#frank got told no and now he’s pouting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chvoswxtch · 2 years

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you gonna let me be good to you?

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: your little slip up forces you and frank to come to terms with your feelings for one another.

warnings: cursing, fluffy frank, mentions of blood (its frank babes), explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this one goes out to all my frankie lovers <3 I promised this a long time ago and i've literally been working on it for weeks but it didn't feel ~right~ until now. i'm a slut for soft frank, and frank in general, so here's 22 pages of just that. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Frank Castle was not a man who was easily taken by surprise. He was used to having the upper hand, normally several steps ahead of everyone else, but even in a tight unexpected situation he was able to come out on top. There were very few things left in this world that shocked him anymore. After his time in the marines, and the reputation that preceded him as The Punisher, he had seen and done things most people couldn’t fathom in their wildest imaginations.

Yet, here he was, staring down at his phone absolutely and completely dumbfounded. As much as he knew he should, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture displayed on the screen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The longer he stared at it, the more he felt his jeans becoming increasingly too tight. His eyes anxiously flickered between the photo, and the door he knew you were just on the other side of. For the first time in a long time, Frank didn’t know what to do. He was completely in shock..because you had just accidentally sent him a photo of yourself in lingerie.

Frank had stopped by your office and asked if you could send him some photos of a few documents that you had found at the library that contained confidential information related to a “case” he was working on. You opted to take photos instead of printing the documents, not wanting it to be tracked back to you or him. Frank had met you through Karen, you were her best friend, and you graciously helped him out from time to time.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be staring. He should delete the photo and lie through his teeth saying he never got anything. He didn’t want you to be embarrassed. You two were friends, in a way he supposed. As much as anyone could really be Frank Castle’s friend. As soon as the door to your office swung open, Frank whipped his head up in the direction of your voice.

“Hey, did you get the photos? Sorry, I have terrible signal in here. I wanted to make sure you got them before you took off.”

Frank felt frozen. There was no doubt a light shade of pink coated the tops of his cheeks, which he knew he could easily blame on the heat in the building. But if he didn’t get the hell out of there fast, there would be little to no ignoring the effect the photo had on him. He could already feel all the blood in his body rushing straight downwards. Frank cleared his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you, turning his phone over in his hands timidly.

“I uh..think you sent me the wrong thing.”

The furrow of confusion in your brows and the adorable pout that formed on your lips made his cock twitch in his jeans. He let his mind wander for a moment as he thought about how pretty those full lips of yours would look wrapped around the head of his cock. He couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling down your body, now that he knew what was hiding underneath. He paid extra attention to how the fabric of your pencil skirt clung to your curvy hips, and the little taste of cleavage he caught from your blouse that dived into a v-shape just above the swell of your breasts. Fuck. Stop it.

“I didn’t send you the photos of documents?”

“No..you uh..sent me somethin’ else. Somethin’ that uh..wasn’t..meant for me.”

Frank should’ve stopped you from checking your phone to see just what he was talking about. He should’ve brushed it off, told you not to worry and to just send the photos when you had a minute, and gotten the hell out of there. But another part of him was curious about your reaction to your mishap. As you unlocked your phone to check your previous messages with Frank, a sharp gasp suddenly left your lips and your hand flew up to cover your mouth. Your doe eyes were blown wide open as you stared down at Frank in panic.

“Oh my god, Frank..I-I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I can’t believe I sent you that. I..I’m so..I’m so sorry.”

“S’alright. Honest mistake. I just uh..knew it wasn't for me. Thought you should..be aware, I guess.”

He had to look away. He couldn’t handle the sight of you biting your lip, even if it was innocent. All it did was fuel the sinful thoughts berating around in his head. Sure, he’d always thought you were pretty, even from the moment you two first met. But he never thought more of it. He never thought about you like that until now. Now that he had seen what your body looked like covered in thin black lace. You weren’t exactly naked in the photo, but it damn sure left nothing to the imagination. It awoke something within Frank he was having difficulty taming.

“It..it wasn’t for anyone really.”

You weren’t sure why you said that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You knew why. You wanted him to know those photos weren’t for anyone in particular. That no other man had seen that. Frank’s head cocked to the side at your confession, eager for you to continue but staying quiet.

“I..um..that was for Karen.”

If Frank’s cock wasn’t throbbing before, it definitely was now. His eyes widened in surprise, and you must have been able to read his thoughts at that very moment, because you rolled your eyes playfully and giggled as your full lips split into a playful grin.

“Not..not like that, Castle. We just..got drunk one night and somehow got on the topic of lingerie and..I told her I’d never owned any before and..um..wanted to know what it felt like..to wear it. So, she talked me into buying some. We actually bought the same set, hers is pink. But we didn’t remember any of that. So when it came in, Karen sent me a picture of hers and asked how mine looked so I um..sent her one back.”

Frank was thanking any God that was listening that he had brought a backpack today, and that it was currently conveniently placed over his prominent bulge. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about what you had just said that was driving him absolutely mad. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was the fact that you had taken a photo like that to send to Karen, or the fact that he was the only person besides Karen that had ever seen that photo. That he was the only man that had seen you all dressed up like that. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him, and he knew he had to snap out of it. The room felt like it was shrinking and he could feel sweat starting to form along his hairline. He had to get the fuck out of that office. Away from you.

“Oh..well..uh..again, no worries. It..looks nice. Just uh, send me the photos when ya get a minute? Gotta..go meet a guy. Thanks again.”

Frank was on his feet in a flash and bolting out the door without another word, leaving you there stunned by his reply. His boots thudded heavily against the steps with every furious step he took, swearing at himself along the way.

“Fuckin’ idiot. ‘Looks nice’? Seriously? That’s the best you could fuckin’ come up with? You dumb motherfucker.”

Frank paused at the bottom of the steps, waging an internal moral war within himself. Part of him wanted to turn around, march right back up to your office, tell you what he really thought about the picture, then bend you over your desk and fuck you six ways from Sunday. But he knew better. He couldn’t get involved with you. He couldn’t get involved with anyone.

»»———　　———««

It had been two weeks since you had heard from Frank. That wasn’t totally unusual. Frank was known to disappear for weeks, even months at a time, then would show back up when he needed something. You had met him several months ago through Karen. You had drunkenly confessed your crush on the big, bad Punisher to her. You knew she had a weird, complicated friendship with Frank. Karen was your best friend, and you two shared a lot of familiar trauma and a complicated moral compass. You both felt like you could understand Frank’s motives, subtly justifying his actions to no one but each other. That was why she knew she could trust you with him.

Seven months ago, Frank had showed up at your door at one-thirty in the morning, completely covered in blood. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Your shock must have been clearly written all over your features when you answered the door to find none other than Frank Castle leaning against the doorway, face covered in fresh bruises and gashes that were dripping with molasses of deep crimson. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he grunted and nodded his head towards you.

“Karen said you were a friend. Knew your way ‘round a first aid kit.”

All the pieces started to slowly come together in your head. Karen was out of town for a conference with the Bulletin. Frank must have come looking for her, and she had most likely redirected him to you in her absence, knowing that you would help him. Frank looked somewhat..nervous? His dark eyes trailed over you with uncertainty, clearly still unsure how trustworthy you were. He must have either been desperate or in a lot of pain to bite the bullet and follow Karen’s instructions to find you. Blinking away your stunned expression, you willed your foggy brain to clear up as you swung your door open wider and held your trembling hand out towards him.

“Oh..yeah, sorry. I..I wasn’t expecting anyone. Um..come in. What uh..what do you need?”

That was the first time you had patched up Frank. Your hands shook slightly with trepidation, due to the fact that Frank was hurt badly and you didn’t want to make it worse, but also due to the fact that you were face to face with the Frank Castle for the first time. Pictures didn’t do him justice. He didn’t make small talk, not that you really expected him to. He sat there silently, grunting every now and then as you stitched him back together and cleaned his various wounds, all the while watching you with complete scrutiny. When he finally passed out from either blood loss or exhaustion, you stayed up all night curled up in the chair across from the small couch his body had completely overtaken. If you hadn’t been so stressed, you might have laughed at the sight of his large body dangling off your tiny couch.

You checked his breathing every twenty minutes, only stopping after two hours when his large hand darted out to grab onto your wrist carefully. His touch was rough and warm, a juxtaposition you welcomed eagerly. Your eyes widened slightly at just how large his hand was compared to your own, completely covering your fingertips up to the beginning of your forearm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he opened his eyes to look up at you, the moonlight filtering through your curtains illuminating a sliver of his hardened features. An achingly beautiful mosaic of purples and blues were scattered over his face where bruises had begun to bloom like the first day of spring. There was a tiny glint of reverence in his obsidian eyes that nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re hurt, and I really don’t want you to die in my living room.”

“You doubtin’ your own work, doc?”

“I..I’m not a doctor, Frank. Nor any version of a licensed medical professional. I’m an editor for fucks sake. I read manuscripts for a living. I just happen to know my way around a first aid kit because I have three fearless and extremely reckless younger brothers.”

That was the first time, and one of the only times, you ever saw Frank Castle smile. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into the ghost of a miniscule grin. You wanted it to last forever. But as most things with Frank, it was fleeting, and as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. His large hand gently squeezed at your wrist before letting go. You hated how quickly you already missed the brief contact.

“I ain’t gonna die. Trust me, I’ve had worse. Get some sleep.”

“Frank-”

“Karen trusts you. So do I.”

»»———　　———««

And that was typically how it went over the next few months. If Karen was out of town or busy with a deadline, Frank came to you. Sometimes, he came straight to you anyway, grumbling some excuse about Karen being wrapped up in something. It made your heart swell with pride that you had won Frank’s trust, and that sometimes he came to you just because he wanted to. That he considered you two something along the lines of friends. There were moments that made you question if there was room for more than that. Frank always guided you to the opposite side of the sidewalk when you were out, taking the spot closest to the street himself. Sometimes he placed his large hand carefully on your lower back to usher you in the correct direction if you weren’t paying enough attention to where you were walking, the gentle act sending your brain into a frenzy. He even memorized your coffee order, although he would always insult it and scoff before giving it to you. “You ever try gettin’ any actual coffee with all that sweet shit?” You had tried several times to work up the courage to flirt with him in a way that was light enough it could be played off as banter, but you were never brave enough.

You supposed you could chalk all those little moments up to him just being a gentleman, and anything else you had derived had been a figment of your own imagination. Frank was a stoic, broody, incredibly intimidating man. He was never mean to you, of course. He had never been anything but gentle with you. Still, you were afraid. You could never gauge what he was feeling unless it was anger. He was extremely difficult to read, and he didn’t talk more than he had to. Frank was also a very complicated man, still very clearly in mourning of what he had lost. It felt wrong to invade on that.

You thought you would eventually get used to the sight of him shirtless, or only in boxers. But unfortunately for you, that day never came. As a matter of fact, every time you saw him begin to shred his torn and bloodied clothes, it only made the ache between your thighs that much more unbearable. He was absolutely captivating. Every inch of muscle was defined perfectly, from his broad shoulders down to the delicious v lines that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. Frank’s arms were bigger than your head, and his hands..God you loved his hands. You wanted to know what they felt like wrapped around your throat, digging into your hips, palming at your chest. You didn’t turn your eyes away from the scars that were scattered across his skin, but they did send fresh cracks throughout your heart every time they were on display. You wanted to trace your fingertips over them, and gently kiss every single one of them away. You knew the scars that covered his skin were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t see.

There was one night you thought you had finally been caught. Your hands were shaking, not because you were nervous or because the gash on Frank’s hip was really bad, but because he was so close to you, closer than he had ever been. You were on your knees right beside him while he laid back on the couch, arm propped up behind his head showcasing his bulging bicep. Your palm was flat against his lower abdomen, right above the waistband of his briefs, as your other carefully stitched his torn flesh back together.

His dick was essentially staring you in the face beneath the thin fabric and it made it hard to focus. Everytime you moved in closer to Frank, your heart pounded so hard against your ribcage you were certain he could hear it in the silence. Feeling the warmth radiating from the proximity to his skin, skimming the taut muscle under your fingertips, smelling the scent of his musky cologne that filled your small apartment for days even after he left, it drove you wild. Frank chuckled deeply as he placed his large hand completely over yours, tearing your unfiltered attention back to his face.

“You keep shakin’ like that, you’re gonna stab me. I’ve had my fill of bein’ stabbed for one evenin’.”

“I..Sorry.”

“S’alright. I just need ya to relax for me, can ya do that?”

Your mouth went dry at his words. You knew he hadn’t meant for them to sound so suggestive, but it stirred something deep within you. You would do fucking anything that man asked. Letting out a deep breath, you pushed your selfish thoughts to the back of your mind and licked your lips, nodding your head slowly.

“Yeah..yeah, I-I’m sorry. This one’s just..it’s pretty bad, Frank.”

“I’ll live. Take your time, darlin’.”

Oh. That was new. The tone of Frank’s voice was so soft and gentle in comparison to the usual gruffness of it that it made you almost wanna cry. You had never heard him talk to anyone that way, not even Karen. Frank was never aggressive or demanding with you, but he usually wasn’t so soft spoken either. He had certainly never called you anything other than your name before. Frank’s voice was another thing you loved. It was so rough and coarse, the deep bass of it traveled straight to your core every time he spoke.

“Ya’know, we were trained to do this shit. Never know when you gotta piece someone back together while shit’s explodin’ around ya. We were trained for months, ya’know?. I tell ya, first time I ever had to stitch one of my guys up, I was scared shitless. It’s easy to prepare to do somethin’, but ya never actually know what it’s gonna be like ‘til you do.”

That was one of the few times Frank had ever opened up about his past to you, clueing you in to the Frank that might still be there under all the jagged layers of pain and trauma. It made you smile, that he felt comfortable enough to share that with you, like you had won over another small piece of him. A tiny victory.

“It’s really hard for me to imagine you being scared.”

“I’m still human. Sure, I get scared sometimes. Not as much these days, ya’know. Not as much to lose.”

»»———　　———««

Unbeknownst to you, Frank had spent every single night of the past two weeks with one hand wrapped viciously around his cock and the other death gripped onto his phone with your risque picture on display. He knew it was wrong. He knew he should feel bad about it. Frank really did try to get that picture out of his head. He took cold shower after cold shower, cleaned every single gun in his collection twice, and even tried to take his frustrations out on the unlucky fucks that dared to get in his way. But it was no use. The swell of his cock refused to go down until he paid it some attention. It was relentless and Frank was desperate.

It was supposed to just happen once. Frank was supposed to get it out of his system, delete the picture, and move on. But every night he found a reason not to get rid of it. Every night, he had an excuse. He felt like a raging, horny teenager all over again, fucking his hand into the mattress of the motel bed every night to the sight of you in the barely there black lace, imagining what you would feel like wrapped around him. Frank hadn’t touched himself in weeks, had been too busy and focused to cater to his own needs. But wild imaginations of you had him feeling like he was going to fucking explode if he couldn’t give himself some relief. Throughout the day he was ansty, even more irritable than usual, hardly able to fucking sit still as he thought about what was waiting for him once he got back to his room.

It wasn’t just the picture that preoccupied his mind. Frank felt like he was fucking consumed with you. He found himself thinking about you constantly, wondering how your day at work was, if you were safe, what book you had your nose in this week, what latest bakery treat you were trying your hand at. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you had grown on him immensely. He made excuses for himself when he would opt to visit you instead of Karen. He tricked himself into believing that Karen was busy instead of facing the truth that he just wanted to see you. Just wanted to hear your laugh when he said something you thought was funny. Just wanted to borrow another book from your collection to get a glimpse into your mind. Just wanted to pretend to be a burden when you offered to let him stay for dinner because it was the only fucking sense of normalcy he had these days. Just wanted to feel your soft touch on his skin as you carefully mended all of the parts of him that were torn and broken, even the parts you couldn’t see.

That picture shed a light on something that Frank had been desperately trying to ignore since the moment he met you and experienced your undeserved kindness. A feeling Frank swore he would never, and could never, encounter again. Part of him felt guilty. How could he be infatuated with another woman when he was still waist deep in revenge for the one he lost? The other part of him could no longer deny how badly he wanted you. That curtain had been pulled back, a glaring spotlight on everything Frank had tried to hide from these past few months. There was no more pretending.

Frank had a choice to make. It was either give in, or let you go. For good. His struggles with his feelings for you were beginning to get in the way of his work and if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna make a mistake in a big way. He had to make a choice, and fast, consequences be damned.

»»———　　———««

You had just finished getting out of a steamy shower, humming softly to yourself as you rubbed your favorite velvet amber and patchouli scented lotion all over your damp skin. After letting your hair down from the messy knot on top of your head, you put on a pair of silky sleep shorts and a tank top, slipping a pair of fuzzy socks onto your feet. You continued to hum as you padded through the open living room to the kitchen that was connected, not even noticing the dark figure sitting in the corner that was silently observing you. As you reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, a deep voice cut through the quiet and burst your blissful ignorance.

“You really need a security system.”

You jumped with a squeal at the sound of the voice, instantly whipping around to face the dark figure with widened eyes. You had a few candles burning on the coffee table that cast an ambient golden glow over your apartment. You had planned a relaxing evening for yourself and decided not to run up your electricity bill when you had so many candles that you had been excited to burn. Your heart beat frantically in your chest as you squinted your eyes, trying to make out the silhouette in the corner.

“S’just me, darlin’. Don’t freak out.”

“Frank?”

“Didn’t even reach for a knife or nothin’. Thought I taught you better than that.”

A deep, breathy sigh of relief sounded from you as Frank slowly stood and took a few steps forward into the dim light, his large frame finally coming into view. You rubbed your palms over your face slowly, feeling your nerves start to settle now that there was not in fact an intruder in your apartment.

“Jesus, Frank. You nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Why didn’t you make any noise when you came in?”

Frank stared at you silently, an unreadable expression plastered over his face. For a moment, he heavily regrets not alerting you that he was here while you were in the shower. Maybe you wouldn’t be wearing those tiny little shorts and a tank top with no bra. He grinds his teeth as he takes in your appearance. He can still see little droplets of water gliding down your collarbones, soaking into the fabric of your tank top. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders in loose waves, and your cheeks were still twinged pink from the heat of the shower. He can smell the scent of your lotion over all the burning candles, and it made his fingers twitch at his sides.

“Sorry. Tried to holler, but don’t think ya heard me over the shower.”

That was a lie. He had knocked though, and then began to panic when you didn’t answer. It was late on a Saturday, so he knew you weren’t at work. The thought briefly crossed his mind that you could be on a date, but he furiously pushed that to the back of his mind as he fished for his spare key to your place and shoved the door open. His right hand flew to the gun tucked into the belt of his jeans, ready to shoot at whoever as his eyes darted rapidly around your apartment. He only stilled when he heard the sound of running water and the melodic tune of your voice as you sang some fucking pop song he didn’t recognize.

Frank had quietly shut the door, securing both locks into place before taking a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the chair as he listened to you sing in the shower. It was a complete invasion of privacy, but definitely not the worst one he had committed when it came to you. Frank thought you sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear you sing more. Maybe he’d play guitar for you, if you’d sing along. Your voice caused a wave of calm to wash over him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Although, it was short lived when he heard the water cut off and quickly had to come up with an excuse as to why he was sitting in the dark waiting for you.

You hadn’t noticed the way Frank was looking at you since your eyes were too busy scanning over his entire body for injuries. You tilted your head to the side, brows knit together quizzically as you made your way over to stand in front of him. Normally when Frank showed up like this, he was bloody, and there were wounds to be cleaned or stitched. But you didn’t see anything. No cuts. No scrapes. No bruises. No gashes or bullet holes from what you could tell. Not a single piece of his hair was even out of place. You dipped your head back to stare up at Frank in bemusement.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I..I don’t see any holes.”

You smiled at your own little stupid joke, but it quickly faltered when you took in the look on his face. Frank had begun to give in a little to your lame attempts to make him laugh, granting you mercy and offering the faintest of smiles or chuckles in response. But he wasn’t smiling, or laughing. His strong jaw was set in a hard line, and his expression was stony. There was something in his eyes though..something unfamiliar you had never seen before.

“I’m fine.”

Both of you stared at one another silently for what felt like hours. You began to feel uneasiness seep into your bones, feeling suddenly even smaller under his harsh gaze. Frank was huge, physically and height-wise. He always towered a good foot over you, which never made you feel unsettled until right now. He looked almost..mad? In that moment, you felt for everyone that had ever been on the receiving end of this menacing look. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing Frank Castle wouldn’t hurt them. Not like you did. Swallowing thickly, you took a shaky breath and spoke softly.

“So..if you don’t need patching up..what do you need, Frank?”

“To confess.”

Frank’s voice had dipped an impossible octave deeper and it caused you to shiver along with sending a flood of wetness between your thighs. You tried not to focus so much on his voice and instead on his words, feeling even more perplexed as they settled in your ears. You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared up at him curiously.

“I..I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job. I’m not religious, Frank. You know that.”

“Yeah, but you’re the closest thing to an angel I’ve ever seen. Besides, it ain’t that kinda confession.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your ears and you felt warmth creeping onto your face, settling into a deep rosy tint that covered the expanse of your cheekbones. Your lips parted in surprise at his words. Frank had never said anything to you like that before. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you desperately wanted to find out.

“Oh..well..I’m not a cop either.”

“I know that, smartass.”

There was an edge to Frank’s voice that submissed you into silence. He wasn’t in the mood for games or playful banter. This was uncharted territory for you. Frank hadn’t been so impassive since the first night you met him, but he had also never spoken in such a harsh tone to you. It caused you to take a step back, and some kind of recognition flashed in Frank’s eyes about his slip. He wasn’t angry with you. He was angry with himself. He dipped his head for a moment, letting out a deep sigh through his nose before meeting your gaze again with a slightly softer expression.

“I need to confess somethin’ to you, personally.”

You didn’t know whether to speak or not, so you kept quiet, staring up into his dark ebony eyes and trying to find something, anything you could use to decipher his cryptic words. But he gave nothing away. Frank had an excellent poker face. There was nothing there but the emotion that was burning brightly in his stare that you still couldn’t identify. Frank squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever reaction you were about to have. It was now or never.

“I didn’t delete it.”

You blinked a few times as you tried to process his words, racking your brain for anything that would make them make sense. Confusion settled onto your features as you waited for Frank to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at you in anticipation.

“What?”

“The picture. I didn’t delete it.”

It felt like your brain was swiveling back and forth as you tried to keep up. You had been so busy with work the past few weeks, and worrying about Frank, that you had almost forgotten about the photo you had accidentally sent him. Once that lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened slightly, lips parting to form an “o” shape, but you still didn’t speak. You had no idea what to say. You were still trying to process what he just said. Why did he say that? What did he mean?

“Oh.”

Frank’s hard stare shifted from your eyes to your full lips, trying to get a reading on what was going through your head. You typically wore all of your emotions, and normally that always helped clue him in to what you were feeling, but right now he couldn’t fucking tell. He could see the scarlet coating your cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, anger or..something else. But that one simple word you uttered had completely taken him by surprise. His dark brows furrowed as they knit in the middle of his forehead, staring down at you in bewilderment.

“That’s it?”

“I..don’t really know what to say.”

“You ain’t mad?”

“Why?”

Frank cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. He had prepared himself for a million different reactions from you. He had rehearsed an apology speech, was gonna let you use him as your own personal punching bag, nearly wore a goddamn bulletproof vest just in case. But this..was not in the realm of his expectations.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why did you keep it?”

Frank paused for a moment. Maybe there was a chance to salvage this. He could lie. He could say he just forgot about it, realized his mistake, and wanted to apologize. But you didn’t look mad that he kept it. You looked..intrigued. You weren’t yelling at him, calling him a pervert and tossing him out of your apartment, so he decided to press his luck and take it a step further. Fuck it.

“Because I thought you looked fucking beautiful in it.”

Frank’s words nearly knocked the breath right out of your lungs. You were having a hard time processing them, even as they echoed loudly in your ears over and over again. That fire that was burning in his predatory gaze was now roaring loudly, setting you ablaze along with it once realization set in. It wasn’t anger swirling around in Frank’s eyes, it was lust.

You had to be dreaming. This had to be a dream. There was no way Frank Castle himself was here, standing in front of you, telling you he thought you were beautiful. Your brain wouldn’t accept it. This had to be some sick, twisted trick your mind was playing on you. Warmth spread between your thighs like wildfire at his admission, the wetness already there doing nothing to put it out. Frank’s stare was unwavering. He wouldn’t tear his eyes away from you. As if he could sense your apprehension, he took a bold step forward and hooked his index finger under your chin, tilting your head back so that you had to look up at him.

“C’mon, darlin. Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours. ”

“I..I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“You think I’m pretty.”

Frank chuckled lightly, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb experimentally over your cheekbone in a soothing manner.

“No, I said I think you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

“The hell you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t think of an answer. You couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of Frank lightly dragging his thumb slowly along the edge of your bottom lip, his gaze dropping just for a moment to linger on your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, reveling in the sensation of his touch on you for once.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes instantly flew open at his gruff words, and a tiny smirk curled onto the corner of his mouth at your obedience. Cupping your cheek gently, he took a slight step forward to close the gap between you, placing his other hand gingerly on your lower back. He pulled you in languidly until you were flush against him, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort, but he didn’t find any. You melted into his touch, leaning your face into his rough palm like you had dreamed of so many nights before. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t telling him to leave. You weren’t angry. You wanted this too.

“Atta girl. You been so damn good to me these past few months, sweetheart. You gonna let me be good to you?”

You sighed softly at his words, nodding your head eagerly as your hands flew up to grip tightly onto the collar of his black denim jacket. As you stood up on your tiptoes to capture his lips, both of his large hands grasped onto your waist to keep you in place as he stared down into your eyes with a shake of his head.

“I need words, sweet girl. C’mon, needa hear it. Tell me you want this too.”

“I want it, Frank. Please..please.”

That was all the affirmation Frank needed to crash his lips onto yours like violent waves in a perilous storm. The kiss was hungry and desperate, and you found yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He was everywhere but you felt like you couldn’t be close enough. You fervently shoved the worn denim down his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor beneath as your fingers attempted to work on the buttons on his shirt. Frank chuckled against your mouth as he broke the kiss, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his large hands.

“Easy baby, we got all night.”

“But-”

“Shh. Let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

Before you could register what was happening, Frank had wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, crossing the small space of your apartment in short strides towards your bedroom. You half expected him to toss you down onto the mattress, and were pleasantly surprised when he carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed. You dipped your head back to stare up at him in wonder.

Anticipation buzzed throughout your veins and you felt your breath hitch in your throat when Frank slowly kneeled down in front of you to be eye level with you. His large hands came down to rest on your bare thighs, squeezing gently to get your attention.

“The second I do somethin’ you don’t like, you let me know. At any point you change your mind, or wanna stop, tell me. I won’t be mad. Understand?”

Nodding your head fervently, you surged forward and grasped Frank’s face in your hands, hungrily chasing the taste of his lips. He chuckled against your mouth, tearing himself away which caused you to whine softly as he gently grabbed your wrists.

“C’mon, honey. What’d I tell ya? Need your words. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand Frank just..please..kiss me.”

You didn’t care how needy and desperate you sounded. Months and months of built up frustration were making you more impatient than usual. You had been dreaming about this for so long, and it was finally happening. You found yourself momentarily suspended in belief that Frank actually thought there was anything he could do that you wouldn’t absolutely love.

“Yes ma’am.”

Frank settled on his knees in between your thighs, grabbing onto the back of your head as his other hand found its home on your waist. Your lips were incredibly soft and tasted of that pink grapefruit chapstick that you were always wearing. As he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, you meekly whined, and the sound went straight to his cock. Frank was caught in tandem between wanting to take his time and worship every inch of you and wanting to be selfish and finally bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

This time when your timid fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t stop you. He decided to let you set the pace, and would only go as far as you wanted. He tore his hands away from you only for a brief moment as you pushed the shirt over his broad shoulders, instantly returning his touch to every spare expanse of your skin he could find to ground himself to reality. You were here, and you wanted him.

Your fingertips brushed against every curve of muscle, every raised and indented scar like you had done so many times before, but this time with renewed vigor. Frank’s skin was always so warm and you savored every ember of his heat. His fingertips cautiously slipped under the hem of your tank top, dancing over the exposed skin of your hips as he brought his lips near your ear.

“Can I take this off, honey?”

“Yes.”

You were surprised at how quickly you were able to answer. Lifting your arms above your head, you let Frank tug the soft fabric upwards, letting out a soft hiss when the chill in the room nipped at your exposed chest. Frank’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you nearly naked before him, a low groan emitting in the back of his throat. He didn’t hesitate to lean in and latch his mouth around one of your peaked nipples causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. The warmth of his mouth contrasted so sharply with your cold bedroom that it had your head spinning. You arched your back to grant your chest fully to Frank, becoming a whimpering mess as his large hand fondled your breast and played with your other nipple. You gripped onto the back of his neck, growing wetter by the second from his delectable assault on your chest.

“Frank..please..”

“What is it baby? What do ya need, hm? Tell me what ya need, I’ll give you anything. Anything you fuckin’ want.”

“Please touch me.”

You should be embarrassed at how breathy you sounded, already so worked up from so little. But that was just the effect Frank had on you, and he fucking loved it. He loved how responsive you were to his touch, and his words. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your little shorts and panties, giving the elastic on both a faint tug.

“Gotta take these off. Gonna let me do that, hm?”

“Please.”

Frank thought he was gonna cum in his pants just from the way you were already begging for him. He had barely even touched you yet, and his excitement only grew for how you would react when he finally did. In a flash, you were completely bare before him, and Frank thought you were the most beautiful fucking thing he had ever seen. Leaning in closer, his broad shoulders spread your thighs further apart to give him a better view of your glistening cunt, and he was fucking done for.

“Fuck sweetheart. You been like this the whole fuckin’ time?”

You shuddered at the ravenous look in Frank’s eyes as he zeroed in on your soaked pussy. The wetness that had accumulated since his confession had grown unbearable, and you just needed him to do something. Anything.

“Everytime you’re around.”

Frank’s eyes darkened considerably as they flickered up towards your face, a wicked glint dancing around in his irises.

“That right?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded your head quickly, feeling heat spreading even further throughout your thighs.

“My poor girl. That’s just fuckin’ mean of me, ain’t it? You take such good care of me, and I leave you like this. Fuckin’ cruel of me. You gonna let me take care of you now?”

Frank's large hands slowly inched up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the tops of them. He stared you down intently as he braced his palms on your inner thighs, spreading you open completely for him. Raising his hand up slowly, he hovered his thumb over your clit as he waited for your answer.

“Please, Frank.”

“Atta girl.”

The contact of his rough thumb pressing against your clit had you jolting upwards, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth without warning. Frank gripped onto your hip to keep you steady, using his index finger to collect some of your slick before starting to rub slow, purposeful circles around your clit. You moaned at the relief you felt when he touched you, grabbing onto one of his shoulders to tug him in closer. Frank fucking loved the way you sounded, and he wanted more of it. He slowly increased his speed, applying more pressure here and there before slowly slipping his index finger inside of you. He took a moment to gather himself at how tight you felt around just his finger, his cock twitching in his jeans at the thought of how easily he could ruin you for any other man.

“There we go, that’s my good girl. Go on, move those hips. Just like that baby. C’mon sweetheart, take what you need.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips against Frank’s hand, watching the way his arm flexed everytime he pushed his finger back inside your greedy pussy. He followed your movements like the tide chasing the moon, pushing back wherever you pulled. A louder moan rang throughout your otherwise silent apartment when he added a second finger, curling them both upon exit in a beckoning manner that had your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. He hadn’t even fucked you, and you were ruined. You would never be able to touch yourself again. You would never be as good as Frank. No one would.

“Doin’ so fuckin’ well for me, baby. Knew you would. Look so beautiful like this. Gonna let me taste you, hm? Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

Frank didn’t bother to wait for you to answer this time. The alluring noises you made were enough for him to pull you further to the edge of the bed by your hips, diving in to devour you completely. A silent cry hung in your throat when he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and began to suckle, all the while still driving his thick fingers inside you at unexplored depths. You were hanging on the edge by a thread, trying your hardest to will away your orgasm so he would keep his head between your thighs forever. Your fingers weaved through his dark tresses, loving how good he looked with his hair slightly grown out, but loving even more that you had something to pull on.

Frank hummed at your taste. He fucking growled against your pussy and the vibrations had your thighs shaking around his head. You tried to give him a warning, but there was no time. You couldn’t find your voice. The second he started flicking his tongue over your sensitive nub at an inhuman pace while curling his fingers against that spongy spot inside you, you were coming apart and Frank was there to collect every drop. Your inner thighs burned from the abrasiveness of his stubble, but you welcomed it eagerly. If anything, it was at least one reminder that tonight had been real.

Frank didn’t stop his assault on your clit as you rode out your high on his fingers, continuing to lap up everything that you had to offer. You whimpered due to the sensitivity from your commanding orgasm, trying to push at Frank’s broad shoulders to get him to budge, but the stubborn fucker wouldn’t move. You could feel him grinning against your core, hear him chuckling softly at your whines and pleas. He was enjoying this.

“God Frank, please. Please..I need a minute.”

Reluctantly, Frank leaned back and licked the rest of your release from his lips. You stared down at him breathlessly, wanting to commit every single detail of the sight before you to memory. His mouth and chin were still gleaming with your release, dark eyes wild and blown out, hair disheveled from your incessant tugging, and broad chest rising and falling quickly as he attempted to catch his breath. But the thing that stole the breath right out of your lungs was that Frank was smiling. Not a crooked one that took up the corner of his mouth, not his usual cocky smirk. A full on, mouth split wide open, all teeth on display, eyes crinkling at the corners, smile. If you hadn’t been so dazed out in bliss, you might have cried at the sight of it.

“You alright?”

“You’re smiling.”

“Hell yeah I’m smilin’. Just made my pretty girl come, and she tastes like fuckin’ heaven. What’s not to smile about?”

A blush crept on your cheeks at his words, causing you to mirror the grin that had taken over his mouth.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”

Frank raised up off his knees, leaning over the bed and placing both of his large hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you so tenderly, it made your stomach flip and nervousness settle in your ribcage. The look in his eyes felt so..intimate.

“Ain’t had a reason to. Until you.”

Grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, you pulled him down to mold your lips together in a passionate kiss. You wanted him to feel everything. You wanted more. This kiss was different from the ones before. It was more patient and evocative, a silent understanding between you and Frank. Your fingertips trailed down the expanse of his chest until you reached the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather from the confinements and popping open the button of his jeans. His lips migrated along your jaw and down your neck, sucking softly at the juncture just above your collarbone.

His large hand wrapped around your throat, not tightly, but just to keep you close. His teeth skimmed along your neck as you tugged down his zipper, pushing his jeans and briefs down his hips to set him free. Frank let out a grateful groan when his cock slapped against his stomach, pulling back just for a moment to shred the layers of fabric completely. You clenched around nothing at the sight of him naked above you. God, he was beautiful. You greedily accepted his kiss once again when he settled his hips between yours, reaching between your bodies to carefully wrap your hand around his base, eliciting a delicious moan from his throat.

Frank was hard, and looked painfully so. You smoothed your thumb over the leaking tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk forward slightly. He was incredibly thick and long, feeling unbelievably heavy in your small hand.

“Shit. Feels even better than I imagined.”

Your eyes darted up to meet Frank’s at his quiet confession, searching the midnight pools intently as a tiny smirk tugged at your lips.

“Frank Castle. You’ve thought about me touching you like this?”

There wasn’t even a shred of shame in Frank’s eyes as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin, leaning in to brush his nose along yours as you continued to stroke him slowly.

“Might’ve left out the part where I’ve been gettin’ off to that picture you sent me every night the past couple weeks.”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes went wide, a hearty laugh rumbling deep within Frank’s chest.

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

“Do I look mad?”

“No, and I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re not. Thought I was gonna have to say goodbye to you tonight.”

Frank carefully pried your hand off of him and replaced it with his own, rubbing the head of his cock between your slick folds and teasing your clit every time he did so. Your brows furrowed at his words, but the second you felt the weight of him rubbing against your still sensitive clit, you gasped sharply. Gripping onto his bicep, you struggled through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. You weren’t letting those words go so easily.

“Why would you say that Frank?”

Frank hated that he could hear the hurt that laced your question, leaning in to press his forehead against yours as he sighed deeply. His hips moved at a tedious pace to keep you both placated, but not enough to satisfy what either of you really wanted.

“Thought you’d be mad, never wanna see me again. Thought..fuck, that I couldn’t have you. Shouldn’t have you. You’re too good to me, sweetheart. Too good for me. Didn’t think I deserved somethin’ so..fuck, so good.”

Frank’s face was twisted up in a concoction of hedonism and self deprecation. You knew what he thought of himself. You knew you would never be able to get him to see what you saw in him. But that didn’t mean that you were going to stop trying. You lifted your hands to cradle his face, parted lips stretching into the best smile you could offer when he was dragging his cock lazily through your folds.

“You didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?”

At that, you lifted your hips slightly, signaling that you were ready for more. That you wanted more. Frank took the hint and slipped the head of his cock into your entrance, watching the way your eyes lulled shut at the feeling. It took every ounce of will power he had not to dive inside your body. He took his time, moving inch by inch, allowing you to adjust to his size. It felt like you were fucking suffocating him, and for a minute he was genuinely worried he wouldn’t be able to last. Once he had finally bottomed out, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and let a strangled moan escape. You dug your fingertips into his shoulders as he stretched your walls to their limits, sucking in a breath at the burning trail he created.

Frank pulled your legs up to wrap around his hips, snaking one of his arms beneath you and around your waist to keep your chest flush to his. He was fucking terrified that at any moment you would disappear. Frank remained as patient as possible, awaiting with bated breath for you to tell him he could move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something so fucking badly.

Turning your head slightly, you pressed the gentlest kiss to the skin beneath his ear. Frank lifted his head slightly so he could get a good look at you, feeling his heart race at the sight of you beneath him.

“I want you, Frank. All of you. If you want me too, then have me. Please.”

Frank stared down at you in disbelief, trying to figure out what the fuck he had done so right that had led him to this moment right here, with you. But who was he to say no to you? Without another word, he retracted his hips slightly just to bring them flush with yours again. He marveled at the sight of you under him, kiss-bitten lips red and swollen and parted, his name falling in breathy pants and moans from them over and over every time he reached that peak inside you. He could fucking die like this.

“Feel too fuckin’ good sweetheart, not gonna make it much longer. Need ya to let go with me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hm?”

You weren’t sure if you nodded or even spoke. You weren’t sure if you gave any indication at all to Frank that you were coherent and understood what he asked.

“Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart.”

The second his fingers found your clit, you were seeing stars. This orgasm was so much fucking stronger than the last one, it suckerpunched every bit of oxygen out of you and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Violent tremors shook throughout your body and you fought so hard to keep your eyes open just long enough to watch Frank fall apart just as hard above you. Your legs tightened around his waist and you gripped onto the back of his neck, holding on as much as he could as his hips stuttered against yours roughly when he finally spilled into you. The loud moan that ripped through his chest was like music to your ears and it nearly sent you over the edge again.

The room felt like a sauna, sweltering and sticky with Frank’s body heat and the combination of your releases hanging heavily in the air. Frank’s panting breaths and your desperate whimpers were the only things your ears could register. Your brain had seemingly shut off and your vision became incredibly fuzzy while you were coming down. You weren’t sure how long that lasted, but the feeling of a calloused finger stroking your cheek seemed to tether you back to reality.

Frank beamed down at you when you slowly opened your eyes, taking in the completely blissful, fucked out look on your face. You nuzzled into his palm, finding your lips maneuvering into a smile of their own accord.

“There’s my girl. Thought I lost you for a second there. Was worried I broke you.”

A symphonious giggle fell from your lips and Frank couldn’t help but grin even wider at the sound. You hummed softly as you looked up at him, shaking your head slowly.

“I don’t break so easily, Castle. Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”

“That right?”

Lightly gripping onto the chain around his neck, you pulled him down to meet you in a head-spinning kiss. His large hand grabbed your face gently, and you giggled when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.

“That’s right.”

“Well, practice does make perfect.”

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher smut #the punisher fic #karen page

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chocsra · 9 months

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"I Can't Hear You, Speak Up!"

15! Chuuya x fem! reader

content: you stain your skirt and a certain mafioso comes to help you, swearing, periods/blood, fluff, pre-relationship, mutual pining, teenage romance

Reader is fem! mention of periods

based off a reddit story 😭

Please give some more ideas and characters for fanfiction, I love teen skk btw

12:13

It's been about 8 minutes since you left an important mafia meeting, excusing yourself to Boss to go to the washroom.

Yet now you stare at your bloodstained skirt and underwear, sighing to yourself in defeat. "No pads either.." You mutter, digging your palms into the luxurious marble sink in thought. Theoretically, you could tell Boss that something happened and you taught an underling a lesson while you were out, or you could be frank about your period; which was something really embarrassing considering you'd have to stop the meeting infront of a bunch of grown criminal men for hygiene products.

So you hid behind the ajar white bathroom door, calling out 'hello?'s and 'is someone there?'s everytime a gust of wind made the slightest creek. "11 minutes.." You leaned your head on the steel door, trying your best to cover your skirt.

Then you heard it.

A quiet murmuring coming from the hallway outside the bathroom, you sighed in relief and poked a leg out of the door; the shadows covering half of your face. There he was, Chuuya Nakahara walking around the hallways like there wasn't a highly significant meeting going on; he had a scowl on his face and his fists clenched like something had happened, muttering about 'killing that bastard'.

"Ahem." You cleared your throat, peeking out to the ginger boy, he spun around in mutliple possible directions the noise could have come from. "Huh?!" the short boy shouted, before locking his blue eyes with yours. "The hell? Aren't you supposed to be in the meeting?" He cocks a brow, folding his arms over his chest. Chuuya seemed to be all dressed up for the day, wearing his signature fedora, choker, white dress shirt and black slacks; but a new large raven overcoat that reached his ankles was loosely thrown over his shoulders, even a new silver hat chain.

"I need something from here, that's why." You purse your lips into a pout, crossing your arms behind the door. "Why are you here anyway?" You ask curiously, slowly easing into the topic, the stylish boy only scoffs with irritation. "Got kicked out, all cause of that fuckin' mackerel." Chuuya rolled his tongue across his inner cheek in annoyance, of course you knew who he was talking about; Dazai, his only friend, you think? You did see them attempting to act serious as they kicked each others leg under the table, maybe he deserved it.

"So then where's Dazai?" You question, tapping your shoe against the marble floor. "He got to stay because he was important, or some bullshit!!" Chuuya shouted again, gritting his teeth harshly. "Woah, calm down." You motion before pausing, "Can you just get a girl, please? Like Kouyou or something.. I don't know." you ask politely, a light blush tinting your cheeks; the redhead's eyes only furrow at your request. "I told you already, I got kicked out, Kouyou's inside. What do you need anyway? I'll just get it for you." He feigns a sigh, shoving his hands in his slacks pockets.

You inhale in annoyance, before stepping further into the washroom, "Nevermind, forget it." you dismiss, causing Chuuya to clench his fists even more. "Just tell me, damn it." He scowls in annoyance, before noticing the blush creeping on your cheeks, and the fact that you did not turn around once from facing him. It all clicked together. "Oh, uh-" The boy paused, red tinting his ears and nose. "You want that thing?" Chuuya asks, causing your eyes to light up at seemingly the only boy who knows what hygiene products are. "Yeah, that!"

He then fishes out something from his pocket and hands it to you, you were a little confused as to why he'd keep pads in his pocket, until he placed a silver safety pin in the palm of your hand. "What is this?" You ask with a blank, despairing face; Chuuya only blushes more at your reaction. "Your.. your skirt ripped, right?" He stammers, making you internally facepalm. "No, no.. pads." You whisper the last part awfully quiet, making Chuuya lean his ear closer to your face, his hands still in his pockets.

"What?" He asks, knitting his brows. "Pads, tampons.." You repeat again, motioning with your hands. "What the hell? Speak up!" The boy scowled, leaning even closer to your face, you almost wanted to push him from inching so close to the girl's bathroom; and the close proximity of his breath tickling your lips.

"Pads!"

You shout in his ear with a frown, Chuuya stepped back at the loud noise, now blushing profusely. "Oh shit, my bad- I just thought your skirt-" You cut him off, crossing your arms. "It's fine! Just please get them, damn.." You brush off with a scowl, seeing the boy scurry off to the hallway.

And after a few minutes of agonising silence, you hear loud shouting coming from Mori's office.

"You can't just go thru Rintarou's stuff!!" A high-pitched girl yelled.

Chuuya quickly hushed her, the loud sound of rummaging through drawers audible. "Shh, shh! He's gonna hear us, shit!"

"I don't care if he hears us! Just let me colour!!" Elise then countered, throwing what you assumed was a crayon at him.

The boy soon rushed to the bathroom with multiple types of pads in his hands; night, day, winged, super. "What the hell is winged?! Does it fly to you or somethin'?!" Chuuya yelled, making you laugh. "Did you really fight Elise for this?!" You laughed, taking them all from his hands. "Shut up!"

And as you finished thanking and mocking him, about to spin around and leave to a stall, he tapped your shoulder.

"Here, uhm.." The redhead took off his overcoat and draped it over your shoulders to cover the stain. A pink blush spread on his cheeks, you only did the same. "Thanks.." You grasp onto the coat, walking inside the stall.

And even as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom, walked you back to the meeting room, and parted ways with a meek wave and blush; you walk into the room with a big smile on your face, only seeing that the meeting was already empty and done.

Fuck.

Even so, it wasn't all that bad; even if the incident happened weeks ago, there would always be a certain redhead giving you a casual nod or wave if he saw you wandering the mafia's hallways or available in meetings.

It made you want to make him steal pads from Mori's office and give you his coat all over again.

Double fuck.

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #15 chuuya #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #15 light novel bsd #chuuya x reader #fem!reader

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darknight3904 · 3 months

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A preview to part two of the Gojo x Zenin!reader I wrote.

Warnings: None

September 2016 (Gojo: 26 You:25)

"Shut up Megumi!"

Tsumiki's room door slamming is loud enough to rattle the entire house.

"Not again..." Gojo groans from his spot on the couch.

Today was his first day off in months, he wished you were here and snuggled into the couch with him but instead, you were off on some mission with Nanami and that kid he was training, Ino was it?

Gojo wished you were here so you could deal with whatever the Fushiguro siblings were fighting about now. You had always been better at diffusing the situation that he was. After all, he'd often end up instigating more problems since Megumi was so funny-looking when he got mad.

"What's going on now?" Gojo asked the dark-haired boy

"Nothing. I just told her that her hair was weird looking today. Where is-"

"She's out on a mission with Nanamin. I'll be handing dinner tonight so go start your homework and apologize. " Gojo said

"You sure you can handle that without burning the place down?" Megumi asked

"Of course I can! I'm the strongest sorcerer alive...I can handle a little dinner."

"Goodnight, Zenin-san!" Ino called out the window as the car drove away

He really was a lovely boy, strong too. Nanami had trained him well. The walk up the sidewalk to your shared home with Gojo and the kids was your last sliver of peace though as you could already hear yelling.

What horrors awaited you on the other side of this door?

"Megumi, would it kill you to help out?"

"Yeah probably. That pot is gonna overflow."

Your feet quickly carry you to the kitchen where Satoru is standing amongst...well you're not really sure what he's trying to cook.

"What's going on?" You ask

"You're home!" Gojo called excitedly, "How's Nanamin?"

"He's great. What's all this?" You ask gesturing to a pan that's been burned so bad its normally white bottom is black with charred food.

"He's trying to make dinner. He's been trying for almost two hours." Megumi says

"Satoru you're 26, can't you cook anything?" You ask as you pull your hair up, ready to take the spoon away from him

"I can cook. " He defends

"Frozen chicken nuggets don't count." You laugh

"Hey!"

Gojo watches as you toss what he was working on, to be frank, he's not sure what he was trying to make at this point. It had started as pork katsu and then evolved into a disaster.

"What's wrong now?" You ask as you rummage through the fridge.

"I wanted to have a nice meal ready for when we got back from your mission. Like you do for me." Gojo says

You can hear the pout in your boyfriend's words.

"It's alright, Satoru. It's the thought that counts." You assure him

"Next time you go away, I'm going to make the best dinner ever." He declares, resting his chin on your shoulder as you fill a pot up with water.

"Well, Nanami and I have orders for Friday...so I'd get learning, Satoru." You smile.

"Perfect. Friday night, my dinner will be even better than yours. I'm going to go pick out a recipe on my laptop." He declares marching off to who knows where.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Megumi." You say, the boy rarely asked questions, so you were always excited to answer them when he did.

"Can you get someone else to cover your mission on Friday? I think if you leave him alone with the kitchen again he might blow us all up."

The rest of this is out now. Check it out here

My Masterlist

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brnesblogposts · 3 months

Text

wired autocomplete interview!

(repost)

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first like irl au, i kinda rushed it just ‘cause I’ve had this idea in my head for so long and I couldn’t relax until I got it out. Also I haven’t written in AGES and it feels so good to do it! I hope you like it! I definitely plan on doing more Pedro x reader irl au’s ‘cause there definitely aren’t enough!

reblog if you enjoy it, thank you :))

—————————-

“Hey everyone, i’m Pedro Pascal” Pedro said enthusiastically. “And i’m Y/N Y/L/N” you stated with a smile. To be quite frank, you were a nervous wreck. This was, after all, your first interview of many, considering this movie was your first big role.

“We’re here to do the Wired Autocomplete Interview!” Both you and Pedro gave your best attempt at talking in unison, you were trying your best to keep your nerves at bay, trying the tip your best friend gave you and imagining everyone in the studio in their underwear. It wasn’t working. You scrapped that idea. On with the interview!

Pedro received the first board of questions, tearing away a strip of paper, “How old is Pedro Pascal?” he looked straight into the camera and deadpanned. “Pedro Pascal is ageless” you blurted out before he could cook up a response himself. He turned to you and laughed, “She’s right. I am ageless!” You both smiled at each other as he moved onto the next question.

“How did Pedro Pascal get into acting?” You listened attentively as he started to explain how his career got started. “(…) Yeah so that’s my story, there are definitely actors out there with more interesting origin stories than me” You slapped his arm lightly “Don’t sell yourself short” you sneered at him, he probably doesn’t know how much you look up to him and have since you were a teenager.

After a few more questions Pedro was done with the board, now it was your turn. You started peeling back the slip of paper, “Who is Y/N Y/L/N’s role model?” Pedro started staring at you, looking around the room and putting his finger on his chin as if he was deep in thought, you started laughing at his comedic act. “Definitely this guy called Pedro Pascal, don’t know if you’ve heard of him” you declared, “Aww, isn’t she sweet!” Pedro put his hands to his heart and pouted, “I love my fans” He said as he wiped a fake tear, you wacked him with the board.

“Who is Y/N Y/L/N dating?” Was the next question on the board, rather intrusive you thought, that’s nobodies business except your own. You struggled to find words to answer this one and it was causing your anxiety to flare up. “It’s none of your business!” Your head turned to see Pedro staring into the camera, he answered on your behalf and you appreciated it, he turned to you and smiled, reassuring you. You whispered a thank you under your breath and he nodded.

The third board was Pedro’s again, and he started peeling the slip of paper away, “Where is Pedro Pascal from?” It said. “CHILEE!!!!” He screamed “I’m from Chile.” He stated matter of factly, “As you can see he’s very proud” you responded to his antics. “I should take you to visit, you’d love it!” His offer caught you off guard but you kept your cool. “I might just take you up on that offer” and you swear you could see a smirk.

“Where did Pedro Pascal meet Y/N Y/L/N?” You had to think on this one, where did you meet Pe- “The first time we met was at an after party for a movie premier of a friend of mine, she’d just got into the industry and my friend told me he’d heard Y/N had auditioned for the movie I was gonna be in. I approached her and she freaked out” You punched him, he started laughing, “Yeah she was like obsessed with me or somethi- OW?!” You had pinched him in an attempt for him to shut up, this is not the kind of information you need to be ridiculed by for rest of your career. “Okay, okay..” he reprimanded “Yeah, so- after our initial meeting we started talking and got one really well, now she always calls me an old man so I don’t really think it was worth it” he joked. You both insulted each other, but it was in a best friend sort of way. Yes he was considerably older than you but he was a child at heart and so were you. When you were together it was dangerous.

Finally, after a few more questions you got to the last one. “Are Pedro Pascal and Y/N Y/L/N dating?” Why are people so nosy? You thought. Pedro answered professionally as not to misinform and start a whole internet drama, “We are not, we’re just best friends. Although, if anyone IS planning on dating her then you should know I’ve been going to the gym. Break her and i break you.” He said in a serious tone, in his defence he had been working out. The best he could, anyway.. bad back and all. “Yeah what he said! Except that last part- I didn’t tell him to do that, don’t let him scare you! And I’m not looking for anything right now, just focusing on my career!” You aren’t lying, you are focusing on your blossoming career, but you also couldn’t possibly date anyone considering you had a massive crush on the man sitting next to you. But that secret was for another day.

The interview ended and you took a deep breathe you’d been holding in. “You did so good!” Pedro exclaimed and hugged you, “I’m so proud of you” He knew you were dreading this interview, but you made it through it and now you could go back to your hotel room, order room service and watch Narcos with Pedro, (against his will but who cares!).

#pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrohub #pedro pascal fandom #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal au

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 10 months

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Can you plsss do a Carlos smut 😭 one where you act like a brat all day during quali day and you start to irritate him and by the end of the day he like f@&ks you stupid and tells you how much you’ve embarrassed him even though you didn’t and he slaps chokes and all that (i love how you write smut one shots lol)

Embarrassment - Carlos Sainz

warning - smut, under 18s dni, (light) choking, degradation, denial

Qualifying. Arguably the most important part of a race weekend. Sure, the race itself was important since that's where the points come in, but if you don't have a good qualifying, then you don't have a good race. Quite simple, really.

To be frank, you had wanted Carlos all day, but he wasn't letting you near him, you couldn't even touch him. "Carlos, you have hours until they need you," you whined, pouting at him.

"I don't see your point," he huffed. You had been pestering him for the past two hours since you had been awake, and it was starting to get onto his nerves. "I need you," you said, sauntering up to him and running your hands across his chest.

"Not right now, I need to focus," he dismissed you, walking off into the bathroom. If that was how he was going to be, then fine. He could have it his way. For now.

The car ride to the circuit was the first part of your plan. "Are you in the garage or on the pit wall today?" he asked. You glanced at him, before turning away and training your eyes back on the road. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," he scoffed, knowing he was going to be in for a day of it.

When you arrived, you walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at the fans and reporters. As soon as you got into the garage, you walked away from Carlos, not even looking at him. "I'll see you later!" he called after you, and you could see people giving the two of you skeptical looks.

You made a beeline straight for the bathroom, taking off the jeans and shirt that you had on and replacing it with the shortest dress you could find out of your backpack. It barely covered your ass as you walked around.

You left the bathroom, strutting around like you owned the place. In the corner, you spotted Charles, doing something on his phone. You saw Carlos talking to his engineer, and his eyes swiftly flicked over to you.

"Hey, Charles," you smiled, leaning on the wall next to him and batting your eyelashes at him. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?" he asked, and you watched his eyes briefly skim over your figure. You bit your lip as you looked at him, spotting Carlos' jaw twitch out of the corner of your eye.

As you talked to the man from Monaco, you twirled your hair around your finger and giggled at his jokes. His cheeks flushed red every time, and if you weren't with Carlos, he would be taking you back to his hotel tonight.

"Charles, time to go," Xavi told him, and he looked sad to have to stop the conversation.

"Good luck, Charles. You'll do great, but you always do," you told him, watching as he walked away. "Thanks Y/N," he shouted as he left.

You took your seat with your headphones over your ears. Carlos was sat in his car, already annoyed at you as it was. Now, seeing you sat in the chair with the tiny skirt of your dress riding over your thighs sent him into an angry spiral.

He put his poor performance in FP3 was down to him being distracted by you. God knows who could have been looking at you while he wasn't around. God knows who could have been looking at what was his.

He got out of the car, his team asking what was wrong to warrant a P11 in FP3. It wasn't bad, but not where he should have been. Especially since Charles had come out in P1. "I'll be one second, guys," Carlos said, storming over to where you were talking to Charles.

"Charles, do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" He asked, struggling to hide the fact that he was absolutely livid with you. "Yeah, course," he said, walking away. You touched Charles on the shoulder as a way to say goodbye, before turning your attention to Carlos.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he spat a you, gripping your wrist tightly.

"Why, you like what you see?" you smirked, knowing you had already gotten under his skin.

"No, you're dressed like a stripper," he stated, his nails digging into your skin slightly.

"Aw, is someone just mad because they came 11th and Charles came 1st?" you teased, putting on the baby voice that he hated.

"I was distracted by my girlfriend parading herself around like a slut," he reasoned, running his free hand through his hair.

"Call me that again, I liked it," you told him, watching his face contort into an expression of pure lividness. "Drop the attitude," he commanded, his tone strict and hard. You started to walk away from him as you rolled your eyes, but the grip he had on your wrist was too tight for you to break.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" he asked.

"So what if I did?" you said, getting as close to him as possible so he had to look down on you. "Let's not make that a habit," he said as if you were a five-year-old, letting you go as the team started to go to the debrief before qualifying.

"Behave," he instructed, "And put some clothes on," he finished.

"Yes, sir," you rolled your eyes at him again, and if he wasn't in a garage full of people, he would have bent you over his car and fucked you until you begged him to stop.

He figured the best way to actually perform well in qualifying was to put all of his anger towards you into his driving, and he could put it on the first row. That was exactly what he did. It was a Ferrari 1-2, but he missed out on pole to Charles by 2 thousandths of a second, so there was nothing else he could have done.

When they got out of the car, they were met with the team clapping and smiling for them. As the pair got out of their cars, they were hugged by their mechanics and engineers, glad that they had finally gotten a good result after a while of misfortune.

You walked up to Charles, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. "Well done Charles! We knew you could do it," you squealed as he lifted you in the air and twirled you around.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you in my drivers room," he shouted across the garage, and people could tell something was up. You did as you were told, swaying your hips as you walked.

"What's up?" you asked, innocently.

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you want people to think you're a slut?" he snapped, slamming the door to the room and blocking it off. "Well at least someone might fuck me because of it," you scoffed, rolling your eyes again for good measure.

"Did you not hear me? Or are you that fucking stupid that you don't know what's good for you? Roll your eyes again and I swear to god," he spat, rushing up to you and pinning you against the wall by your neck.

His fingers gently squeezed as he spoke, the lack of oxygen flowing to your brain making you smile goofily. "If this is what you're like when you don't get what you want, then you're going to have to get used to it," you mocked, rolling your eyes in an over exaggerated manner.

"Get on the couch," he commanded, releasing his grip on you and pushing you towards the couch slightly. "Oh so you want me now that you're frustrated?" you queried, adoring how much you had agitated him. "Get on the fucking couch," he spat, and you thought it would be best to listen.

Stepping over to the couch, you sat down, the skirt riding over your thighs and revealing everything to Carlos. "Look at you, all pretty in pink," he smirked as the pink lace that was your last, thin barrier between you and the Spaniard.

You were blushing, looking down at your feet. "Oh, so we're all shy now?" he mocked, keeling down in front of you. "There's no turning back now, bitch," he spat, and you had to admit his attitude was turning you on.

His fingers slithered up the side of your thighs, hooking into the sides of the flimsy material. He pulled them down your legs, slipping them over your heel clad feet and tossing them aside. Without a warning, he hoisted your legs onto either shoulder, gripping them with his hands.

"So fucking pretty," he breathed against your thighs, placing soft kisses as his lips traveled. "It's a shame you're such a brat," he said. He started nipping the skin with his teeth, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.

Finally, you were getting your way, you thought. You had pushed him to the limit, and a day of gallivanting had finally paid off. Every time he lightly sunk his teeth into your skin, it was like a needle stabbing into you with a sharp prick.

"Now I didn't know you were this desperate," he near on mocked, staring at the effect he had on you. Carlos leaned in, licking a thick stripe up your dripping folds. His tongue gently circled your sensitive bundle of nerve endings, the feeling sending volts of electricity pulsing through your body.

The sensation elicited a moan to escaped you lips, when Carlos pulled away. "For once, you need to keep that goddamn mouth of yours shut," he instructed, earning a nod from you. For once, you would actually do as you were told.

Carlos attached his lips back onto you, lapping and sucking at all of the right places. Pressure bubbled in your stomach as you tangled your hands in Carlos' hair. Tugging at the strands, you earned a hum of pleasure from him as he brought you so close to release on his tongue.

"Shit, Carlos, I'm close," you struggled to say, barely able to suppress the moans that had built up in your throat. At your words, he attached his lips around your clit and teased it with his tongue. "Fuck, I-" you fumbled over your words, so close to release.

Just as you were about to tip over the edge, Carlos pulled himself away from you, a devilish grin on his face. "You didn't really expect me to let you cum, did you?" he cockily grinned, pushing his dark locks of hair from his face.

The pressure that had built up slowly, and irritatingly fizzled out, much to your dismay. "Please, Carlos, I'm sorry, I was a bitch," you pleaded, hoping he would crack and give in to your desires, your needs.

"Yes, you were a bitch. A bratty, little, bitch," he seethed, yanking you up off the couch. "Turn around and bend over," he said. You thought if you obeyed his commands that he would let you off.

Before he could let you do as you were told, he slipped your dress over your head in one swift movement.

You turned around and bent over, holding yourself up with your arms on the back of the couch. "Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, and you could tell he was getting a kick out of seeing you in this compromised position, knowing only he could give you what you wanted. "I want-" you started, but you were cut off by him teasing your entrance with his cock.

"What do you want?" he pressed.

"I want you to fuck me," you blurted out, turning over your shoulder to look at him, cocky grin plastered across his face. "God, such a needy slut," he breathed, slipping into you in one movement with ease.

As he started to rock his hips back and forth, the coil in your abdomen started to tighten again, and it was already so close to snapping. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Sauntering around like that all day. Fucking brat," he spat through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

"And flirting with Charles? I knew you were trying to make me mad, but that fucking pissed me off," he rambled, slamming into you harder each time. "You're an embarrassment, you know that? Trying to fuck my friend in front of the whole garage," he seethed, bringing his hand up and swatting your ass.

You yelped, causing him to do it again until the skin started to sting and turn red.

"Tell me you're sorry," he ordered, his hand gliding up your back and clasping around the back of your neck.

"I'm-" you said, but were cut off by the overwhelming pleasure of him squeezing your neck as he picked up his pace. "Tell me you're sorry for being such a fucking slut," he said between thrusts. "I'm sorry," you managed to get out as he squeezed your throat harder.

"Word for word. I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," he repeated, feeling as your walls were clenching around his dick. "I'm sorry for being such a fucking slut," you hardly managed to get out as the stimulation became too much - but in the best way possible.

Hot, salty tears slipped down your cheeks as silent moans disguised as sobs escaped your parted lips. "Good, wasn't so hard, was it?" he could feel you were on the brink of coming undone, and so could you. The coil was so tight and so close to snapping. Slowly, you felt light tingles spreading through your body, your legs and arms bucking slightly.

Just as your pleasure was about to hit you like a tsunami, Carlos pulled out, detaching his hand from your neck and pumped himself a few times, spilling himself all over your back. "Carlos, please, fuck," you cried, staring at him through glassy eyes.

He rode out his high, looking at your tear stained, reddened face. "Go ask Charles if you're that desperate," he menacingly chuckled, pulling his underwear and race suit back up his legs to his hips. "Please, Carlos. Just two minutes," you whined, needing the release.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been such a slut for it all day," he demeaned one last time, "You've embarrassed me enough, don't become desperate," before walking out of the room. "Put some clothes on for fucks sake," he doubled back, staring at you, almost in disgust.

If he could, he would have watched you squirm for him all day, but he had a job to do.

A/N - This is my first request, and I hope it was good enough! The third part of 'Baby Fever' is on its way, I promise. It's taking longer than expected. If anyone has any requests in the meantime, you can submit one on my profile. I'm pretty much open to anything!

|masterlist|

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toracainz · 9 months

Text

Driver Picks the Music, Shotgun Shuts Their Cakehole

Masterlist

Summary: You and Jake decide to go on a road trip.

Warnings: Inaccurate depictions of DID (only knowledge from the show and some light research). Swearing. Established relationships. Spoilers for Case 63. References to the boys past trauma with water. Mild miscommunication. Verbal conflict due to frustration.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: I am not fluent by any means in Spanish so if there is anything incorrect please let me know.

A/N: beta read by the wonderful @luvpedropascal and another friend that doesn’t have a tumblr lol.

A/N: this was for a fic exchange for the anniversary of Moon Knight, but as you can see I'm kind of late lol oh well! hope you enjoy!

Translations:

Mira, amor. = Look, love. Corazón = heart Mi tesoro, ¿qué pasa? = My treasure, what’s up? Cariño = Dear Dios, ¿eso es todo? = God, is that all? Lo lamento…realmente. = I’m sorry…really. Amor = love mierda = fuck Se lo juro. = I swear it. Nuestro amor. Nuestro sol. Nuestro corazón. = Our love. Our sun, our heart. luz de mi vida = light of my life

The eerie music of the podcast played in the background as the characters spoke. A man, who was apparently a doctor, talking (though he sounded just like the patient from the earlier part of the podcast) with the confused woman, a doctor herself…from the future?

“Let’s see, ‘Case 63’. It says your name is Eliza Beatrix Knight. You were admitted at 7:22 p.m. on November 24th. You were found naked at JFK airport in one of the bathrooms in Terminal 8 with paranoid ideations and confusion. You told a curious story about the end of the world in the future—“

“But the—the future??” She definitely sounded confused and a bit distressed.

“Yes, the future.” The doctor answered.

“Oh…wait. Wait. Okay. Wh—what year is it now?”

“You don’t know what year it is?”

“What year is it?” The woman repeated, a little agitated.

“It’s 2012, Ms. Knight.”

The only sound, other than the credits of the podcast, was the droning of wheels on pavement as you and Jake headed down the road. You had nearly begged Jake to listen to the podcast after you got back on the road from the last stop. You looked over to Jake, smirking as you studied his stoic, contemplative look. He suddenly let out a huff of a laugh, shifting in the driver's seat a bit.

“What?” you asked him, a little unsure of what to make of his reaction.

“That’s like…2 hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

“What?! Oh come on, you can’t be serious. That was a good show!” You insisted, mock offense on your face (though not entirely mocked).

“Mira, amor. It was…interesting, but just not my kinda thing. I mean, the guy was just bullshitting the whole time.” He shrugged, keeping hold of the steering wheel, his other elbow propped on the ledge of the window.

“Bullshitting??? Ugh, whatever. Putting it back on your old man music. Keep listening to this and I’ll have to put you in a home soon.” You teased as you reopened the music app and started his playlist. Frank Sinatra came to life in the speakers.

“‘Old man music’? These songs are classics and timeless. So are the dance moves.” He smirked glancing over at you, seeing your pout fighting off a grin. “I know you like it when I dance with you, corazón. Don’t hear you complaining then.”

“Because I have you to distract me from it.” Looking at the map on your phone, you tried to see how much further until the next stop.

You and Jake had been planning this trip for a while, just you, him, and the open road. The only thing that wasn’t accounted for, though, was Jake’s determination to pick the music, the snacks, and the places to stop. It wasn’t too obvious at first, especially when he was pointing out some pretty fun locations to go to, but it seemed like any time you made a suggestion, he would try and convince you to do something else. It was cute, with a bit of poking and some laughs about Jake being hard-headed, but the further into this trip you got, the more it started to bother you. Looking at the map, the both of you would be arriving pretty soon at the last motel before making the last trek to the final destination on the trip “itinerary”, Antelope Canyon.

~*~*~*~

Weeks Earlier

After you had mentioned going on a road trip, Jake took it upon himself to check out potential places and possible things to do there. Nothing had been discussed in earnest yet, but Jake's (and his headmates’) curiosity got the better of them. Vegas was discussed, San Francisco, and the Rocky Mountains, among other potential options. It wasn’t until Marc suggested the Grand Canyon that things really started rolling. Jake had in his mind that the Grand Canyon, while grand was honestly boring. He hadn’t expected Steven to agree with him, so the three began to look at other locations.

That’s when they found it. Antelope Canyon. Now that was a destination.

Steven offered to do the research since he actually enjoyed reading endless pages of websites or books, but Jake insisted that he would take care of everything. Looking through hiking reservations and things to do in the area around the canyon, Jake had started to really enjoy planning it all. He just knew you’d be excited for it all.

That is…until he read an article about some of the facts about the canyon and its geography. According to the article, the canyon was prone to flooding. Seeing that word made his blood run cold and his heart begin to pound. When he noticed his hand clenched tightly into a fist he had to consciously relax it. It was fairly understandable that if it rained in the area of the canyon then of course water collected, but the part that worried him and his headmates was that it could be dry in the canyon but rain elsewhere, and the canyon could still have a flash flood. There had even been ladders installed in the canyon for people to grab onto and climb to higher ground. At first, they were wooden, but those broke all too easily. They've since been replaced with metal ladders. Plenty of people had lost their lives to this all too familiar force of nature.

Once Jake learned about this, he began looking heavily into the weather of the area and the best time to go. Planning for the driest possible month that he could and making sure the projected weather was clear as it could be. Jake’s not delusional by any means, he knows that weather can be unpredictable so far in advance, but he had to try. Jake started to check the weather religiously to make sure things would work in his favor. He wasn’t taking any chances, wasn’t going to put the system in danger, and definitely wasn’t going to pull you along with them. He wouldn’t let that happen…not again.

So it was settled. Route. Destination. Activities. And the window of time they had to arrive.

~*~*~*~

Present

You both had been talking about taking a road trip for a while now and it wasn’t until a week or so ago that the two of you started talking and planning in earnest. Jake was the one that picked the route since he insisted on driving the whole way, but to your surprise, he also picked the destination - even going as far as to look at weather reports for the times that you two would be there. That left you to pick the snacks and the fun touristy stops along the way, giant rubber band ball-type attractions, that’s what road trips are all about right? Hearing you get excited by each new place you found along Jake’s route gave him the softest and warmest smile. This was how every night was spent leading up to the trip, you and him sitting on the couch, your legs over his, or laying in bed, his arm around you and getting giggly from all the excitement, an extended trip with your partner, your Jake.

What you didn’t know, and what you’ve rarely seen, was how Jake was stealing glances at you. He wasn’t exactly the talkative one in the relationship, but he didn’t mind, not when he could just observe and admire your energy. The smile on his face was content like waking up at your own pace in a comfy, warm bed. These simple moments were what Jake enjoyed most, these mundane, everyday moments. He never asked for much and he never needed much, so when he found you and you decided that you would give him your love, well that was all he could have ever asked for.

~*~*~*~

Pulling into the motel parking lot, the silence that Jake thought was comfortable was not so for you. Stewing away at how nitpicky Jake was being, how he was nearly dictating what you both did on the trip with almost no regard to what you wanted. You knew it wasn’t because he was trying to be mean. Jake liked to have control of situations. Having control meant a certain level of safety, and that’s just how his mind worked, protecting himself, protecting the system…protecting you. What you couldn’t understand was why. What sort of danger could come from the wrong kind of chip or soda being bought at the gas station?

You both grabbed your bags from the trunk and went into the room, starting each of your nightly routines…still, in silence, save for the small T.V. that had been turned on to some local news station. Then Jake chimed in on what side of the bed he would be sleeping on. You didn’t need him to tell you. You knew he would take the side closest to the window and door, that’s the side he always took.

“I know what side you sleep on. You don’t have to tell me!” you snapped not too unkindly. Funny how the bed would be the final straw. Jake stepped out of the bathroom. He was only half undressed as he was getting ready to shower (he thought showering with you, but the tone in your voice had him second-guessing).

“Mi tesoro, ¿qué pasa? If you want to skip the shower that’s fine, babe, just say so.” He fixed you with a confused look.

“Oh? So that I can decide?”

“Cariño, what are you saying? I don’t play head games, get it out. Start making sense or I’m go–”

“This whole trip…the whole trip, you have been so picky about everything. Where we stop, where we don’t stop, what snacks to get, where to stay and almost every time I suggest something you shoot it down. If it’s not your way it’s the highway is that it?” That was one thing that you were happy for in your relationship with Jake, and it certainly took some time to get to this point. Jake was right, he didn’t like playing head games. He didn’t like the whole “you should know what’s wrong” bit. He was never fully open about his own feelings, but clear communication? He was a staunch advocate. He wanted to know what was wrong, what was right, how he could meet you in the middle, all of it.

Hearing this outburst, his muscles tensed ever so slightly, his jaw tensing more. Jake tossed his shirt on the bed as he came over to his duffel bag, grabbing his toiletries bag, and starting back into the bathroom. “I’ve been picky. Picky. Dios, ¿eso es todo? And that’s what’s got you all worked up, just because I’m picky.”

“Just because. Worked up. This was supposed to be a fun trip and it is, it was! But damn it, Jake, it’s not fun for me when you can’t let go for two seconds. Nothing’s going to happen if we stop at some honey farm or a fruit stand or a fucking huge ball of twine!” The floodgates open, as you let out the building frustration from the past couple of days. It felt good to get it out, so it wasn’t buzzing around in your head any longer. Jake had been leaning against the bathroom counter, shoulders tense and hunched as he looked at himself in the mirror. You don’t know if Marc or Steven has anything to say about your outburst, if he’s listening to them, and right now that’s the least of your concerns.

You could see his jaw flexing and clenching as the gears were turning in his head, trying to come up with something to say.

“You want me to let go? Want me to just let things happen? Fine,” he threw his hands up. “Yeah, I’ll let go as soon as you learn some restraint. Think you can handle that for one more day? Hmm? You knew what you were getting into when you looped me into whatever you want to call this relationship.” He looked at you in the reflection as he grabbed what he needed and went to finally get in the shower.

“Fine. Sounds fantastic. Maybe tomorrow you can work on getting the stick out of your ass and actually enjoy the hike instead of worrying if a lizard’s going to be within thirty feet of us. Yeah, enjoy your shower.” You huff, going and sitting on the bed to watch T.V. while you wait for your turn with the shower. Flipping through the channels didn’t produce anything worth watching so you settled on the news again. Sometimes on the trip, you and Jake would shower together, make out, actually bathe, or both, and just enjoy those little moments. That was not in the plans tonight and you weren’t even sure how the bed situation would work tonight, there being only one, probably not a lot of cuddling.

Relationships have their rocky moments, that’s to be expected to some degree, but talking to each other and coming to an understanding…maybe once you both cool off you can have a more constructive conversation. Until then, you both needed some time to let the emotions come down from their boil, maybe on the drive tomorrow you two could talk, sort things out, otherwise it was going to be a long trip back to New York.

Jake eventually got out of the shower, curls wet and slicked back, and only in his underwear. You were upset with him, so stop looking at him like that…with all his muscles and tan skin and inky curls that started to spring back from their slicked state. You tried to shake it off as you got off the bed without a word to go for your own shower. Jake watched you go and once he heard the water start he sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he and his headmates tried to help come up with a way to salvage the trip. Sounds like partly cloudy days in the future.

~*~*~*~

That morning, after a not-so-pleasant night of sleeping as far away from each other as possible, though you're certain at some point in the night you could feel a strong hand gently caressing your shoulder, the two of you packed your things and got back on the road. It wasn’t much further to Antelope Canyon so the drive wasn’t terrible. It was certainly quiet though.

As Jake pulled into a parking space, he was the first to break the silence, gently grabbing your arm, stopping you as you started to get out of the car. When you look back at him it all started to flare up again. He’s stopped you from getting out of the car, decided things for you. You don’t mean to be on edge, it all just feels so raw.

“Lo lamento…realmente.” He says withdrawing his hand, holding it up to show he’s not keeping you, he only meant to get your attention, “We can talk about it on the hike, I just…I wanted to say it now. Before we get out there. I’m not expecting you to forgive me just because I said “I’m sorry”, I know I’m not the easiest person to live with, just ask Marc and Steven…” he paused, not entirely sure what else he could say. He really felt he was difficult to live with and he knew that his hypervigilance could get overbearing, but that’s something he intended to work on.

You listened to him, still feeling that boiling frustration, knowing that he meant it, he always means it. Jake clenched his fist, resting it against the gearshift trying to put the words together. “Let’s get out there…” He nodded, more to himself, gently hitting the gearshift with the side of his fist before getting out of the car to get the backpacks. While you grabbed yours Jake headed over to the information kiosk for maps, a weather radio, and to check in for the hike

~*~*~*~

It’s kind of amazing how being in a place like this could distract from the stresses you both came with. The smooth, waving walls of the canyon in those bright red and orange hues. It looks so ancient, mystical, alien, and absolutely breathtaking. You both were able to relax as you worked your way through trails, well you more than Jake who seemed to be clenching his jaw or muttering to himself (or Marc and Steven) a lot. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you hoped it wouldn't crop up into another argument, not when the hike had been going so well.

And that’s when it happened.

You suggested that you stop for a break, just to drink a little water, maybe eat a snack, take some pictures, or something, but Jake trudges ahead.

“We can go a little further, come on.” He said, pulling ahead now. It was as if the argument and his apology meant absolutely nothing to him. What in the hell was happening?! You never took Jake to go back on his apology or his word. Yes, the man would fib on occasion but he wouldn’t flat out lie like that…not to you.

“What? You have got to be kidding. After all that? For God’s sake, Jake you just couldn’t handle i,t could you? The whole hike you’ve been acting so uptight. Are you even enjoying this? This whole thing was your idea and now you have a look like someone just smelled the most gag-inducing stench.” You weren’t going to let it slide like you had in the car ride, you were going to call him out on it. This was your trip too and you wanted to go out and have fun. Which you were, but having a muttering cloud of gloom accompanying you was not helping.

Jake stopped, tilting his head back and looking to the sky, muttering more things (you couldn’t quite make it out, but it vaguely sounded like Spanish swearing), definitely a bit cloudy now but nothing too bad for now. Slowly, he lowered his head as he turned to look at you, regret clear on his face. “Amor, I swear this is the last time today…I uh, had looked up the trails online—just to be safe—I only meant…mierda…there’s a cool place up ahead. You've probably seen it in pictures, a beam of sunlight coming in…we can break there and after that…” he makes the motion of zipping his lips, tossing away the key, and holding up his hands in surrender.

Well, that was…unexpected. The worst part was, it was a good idea. With a huff you crossed your arms, contemplating the options and the fact that he really did mean what he said…he was trying, but you were still frustrated, and maybe(?) going to this special place meant that the whole rest of the time Jake would just lighten up and you could actually contribute to the trip.

“Fine. Yeah, fine, let’s go to this “cool place” and we’ll take a break there.” You shook your head, conceding. “But after that, you have to let me have some say, Jake—“

“I will. Se lo juro. Just thought you would like it and taking a break there you can take it all in like you do.”

He stood there waiting for you to rejoin the hike. Thankfully the place wasn’t much further, just as he said, and you looked around in awe at how nature could make such enchanting views. You were enjoying it and taking it all in, just as he said.

You both started to take off your backpacks, taking out a blanket and some snacks and drinks for the little makeshift rest stop this little place was about to become. The thing that was most mesmerizing was the beam of light in question, and yet again, he was right. You stood there drinking your water watching this marvel of nature, this beam of light so precise and almost like a sspotlight The sunlight almost looked tangible, so letting the inner kid in you come out for a little fun, you stuck your hand into the sunlight. That wonderful, imaginative part of you almost expected to feel it, well feel something other than the warmth it brought. Like it should have been hard like a stone column or fluid yet weighty like a stream or waterfall.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you. This is a really cool place to rest for a bit. Sorry for blowing up like that again. If you know any more places like this we should stop at, let’s make a plan okay? Together. We’re supposed to be enjoying the hike right? Just like you s—“

When you turned to look at him, you were met with a sight that that imaginative part of you was absolutely not expecting.

Jake.

Down.

On one knee.

Holding a small, velvet-covered box.

You didn’t know what to do, so you just gaped at the sight. Nerves were clear on his face as he opened the little box.

“Nuestro amor. Nuestro sol. Nuestro corazón. I know now that I wasn't being fair to you on this trip and I truly am sorry. You’ve put up with me, with Marc, and Steven when we were absolutely not the easiest to put up with. You accepted us, all of us, and everything that comes with being with someone like us…and we couldn’t be more thankful to have such a patient, loving, and strong partner. Because God knows you have to be strong to have to deal with three grown man-children.” Jake chuckles breathily, hoping the joke would help his nerves (it didn’t), not until he heard you chuckle too. The corner of his mouth quirks slightly, letting that little moment of levity give him the breathing room for what was about to come next.

“Will you marry us?”

You stood there still stunned, but now tears were trickling down your cheeks. Yeah, there was a lot to deal with, mostly due to their collective tempers and vastly different ways of doing things among other quirks…but you weren’t perfect, not by a long shot. There were plenty of things you did or said that they had to put up with too. But that’s the beauty of it, right? People are flawed. They mess up. They find someone to love them and they grow together…to work at being together, because it’s not easy, nothing in life is ever easy…but loving them…even after every argument, disagreement, or misplaced frustration…that was easy. How could you not?

You stepped closer to Jake. The last of the system that you met and once you had, everything just felt complete. Now, here he was before you, on behalf of himself and his headmates, asking you to love them for the rest of their lives. And you said yes…how could you not? You said yes again, nodding your head as he came to his feet, a nervous smirk blooming into an ecstatic grin as he plucked the ring from its box and slipped it on your finger.

It was a simple silver band with three diamonds set into it…one for each of them. You held up your trembling hand to admire it, your heart thrumming with what it represented. Looking at Jake, you wrapped your arms around him, as he did the same to you, your lips meeting each other. So much love and passion shared between you. It felt too soon when you both pulled away to catch your breath. When you looked into his eyes you saw his own tears threatening to slip away and down his cheeks, and you also saw the tenderness and deep love that he and his headmates shared for you.

After another kiss (and another), you both stand there in the beauty of the moment.

“I love you,” you finally say.

“I love you too, luz de mi vida. Like you wouldn’t believe. So much, that I made sure to plan as much of the trip as I could to try and make it memorable…turns out I made it exhausting and should have just had you help plan it.” Jake couldn’t wipe the smile from his face if he tried, you said yes and now you had the rest of your lives to plan more trips.

“Definitely should have consulted me. I have a keen sense for adventure, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And we have plenty of time to plan trips, annoy each other, love each other…and on the ride back, we will be having the best adventure.” You smile wide before Jake leans in, giving you another kiss which you happily reciprocate.

“I can’t wait.”

A/N: Antelope Canyon has a tendency to flood. This can apparently happen even if the rain occurred miles away. The boys were not only nervous about the proposal but also flooding, hence the weather research, monitoring, and radio.

taglist: @spacecowboyhotch @marc-spectorr @juneknight @mccn-bcys

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley x reader #moon knight system x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic

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theitgirlnetwork · 4 months

Text

Better

Ch. 13: I've Got It

Note:....Been a while. I know boooo, it was very shitty of me, and I'll spare you the sob story but I'm back. Thank you all for the continued support, I am extremely grateful to everyone who gave and continues to give this story a chance. I am ready to get back to work. This chapter is a long one as the beginning of my apology. As always, feel free to reach out to me with any questions or just to chat, but all in all, it feels good to be back. Happy Valentines Day, babies <3

Warning: Toxic Family Dynamics, anxiety, angst and strong language.

“Now we wait.”

Lip rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed in his and Charlotte’s room at Kev and V’s house, crossing his arms. “This is fucking stupid.”

V’s sharp elbow goes into his side as Kev shushes him, facing the opposite direction.

The three of them are sitting and waiting outside of the bathroom door, straightening as Carol emerges from the room, blue and white stick in her hands and Charlotte in tow. “Auntie Carol, I told you I’m not pregnant-”

“Hush, little girl, stop whining.”

“But Mama,” V tries, rubbing her head tiredly. “She just had her period.”

“You shut up, Veronica, you were supposed to be watching her, not letting her shack up while you did, lord knows everything but take care of your cousin. Now I’m gonna hear shit from her father and his wife the whole time they’re here.” The older woman huffs, squinting at the test, snapping her fingers and pointing to the bed, gesturing for Charlotte to sit. “The least we can do is make sure she’s not pregnant when they get here.”

Lip rests his hand on Charlotte’s thigh as he tries to hide his annoyance with the whole situation. The call with Charlotte’s dad had been disastrous, as he suspected it would be. The older man had cursed him to high heaven before demanding Charlotte be on the next flight home. When Lip heard that he’d panicked, snatching the phone back from his wife and hanging up. All they’d received since then was an eerie message that they were on their way. Because he’s him and he has literally no control over his own brain, he had no choice but to question why she hadn’t told her parents about them, about him. It seemed like her dad hadn’t even expected to hear from a boyfriend let alone a husband. They’d at least been together long enough that her parents should know he exists.

In fact that’s all he can think about, aside from the fact that he may have lost his job. And how the two may be related.

“Fuck!” Lip growls as he punches the wall in the hallway. He’s unconcerned with what Fiona will say about it. He’ll just blame it on Frank.

Charlotte’s head pops out of the bathroom with a freshly bathed Liam on her hip, both looking as innocently confused as ever. Liam claps his hand, squealing, mumbling out an excited ‘fuck!’ as he meets his brother’s eyes. “No, Liam, that's a bad word. Phillip didn’t mean to say that. He meant to say darn, right Phillip?”

The blond is in too foul a mood to concede for cuteness sake and instead squeezes the boy’s cheek and gives his wife an appreciative pat on the ass before scooting past. “Nah, I meant fuck.”

Charlotte pouts as she bounces the child on her hip a little before taking him to sit with one his other siblings as she goes to figure out what’s wrong with her spouse. She’s noticed that Phillip has been on edge since her parents’ message, but she was beginning to think that wasn’t all that was bothering him.

She finds him spread out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. Her pout deepens as she climbs over the side of the couch, laying her body over his, pressing her chest to his and offering him a bright smile. “Talk to me, bubba.”

“I’ve just got shit to figure out I guess, I gotta handle it or we’re fucked.” he huffs, rolling his big blue eyes, as she smooths the lines between his brows with her soft fingers.

“Shit like what?” Charlotte asks, tilting her head lightly.

“Watch your mouth.” He murmurs, softly, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, humming with quiet satisfaction as she simply closes her mouth around it, brown eyes staring up at him intently. “That shit at the party, lost my cool, cause that fucker is trying to fuck you-”

“Don’t want him.” she says around his finger.

“I lost my cool and sorta might’ve cost us a good thing.” Lip sighs, smoothing his other hand over her hair. “Daddy wants to talk to me in his office later this week. Fucked it up, sorry baby.”

It almost feels worse. How quickly she shrugs off his failures. She doesn’t tell him he fucking sucks, or that he ruins everything. She doesn’t huff and push off of him. She offers him a soft smile, kisses him deeply, and tells him ‘they’ll figure it out’. They’ll do it. Another thing he just can’t do for her. He feels helpless. He loves her, and this job was the biggest step he’s made in showing her that. He might beg. He might literally have to set his pride aside and beg.

That was part one in the hardest lesson life has taught him. Phillip Gallagher is not good enough for Charlotte Gal…Fisher.

“Yay, Debbie!” Charlotte screams , clapping along as Ian whistles. The family was gathering for Debbie’s first soccer game of the season and it was…not going well. Turns out Debbie’s team sucks and she doesn’t respond very well to the rules and restrictions of soccer. She was currently focusing more on digging her heel of her cleats into the shin of a kid who’d accidentally kicked her hand while the ball rolled past her.

“Fuckin’ kill ‘em, Debs.” Mickey calls, lighting his cigarette. His brows furrow at the looks the parents around him send him. “I fuckin’ meant, metaphorically.”

“Figuratively.” Lip corrects, smacking away the middle finger that gets waived in his face. He sighs as Charlotte knocks his own cigarette out of his hand before he can light it, slapping her thigh, pulling her leg over his as she giggles in his ear. Lip relishes in the closeness and warmth he gets from this moment. His wife leaning into him, absently toying with his fingers as she cheers for his little sister.

It makes him think. He thinks about the future. Doing this with his kids. Their kids. Kids he didn’t even think he wanted. Not until her. Just the idea of her opens a world of possibilities he hadn’t even factored in. It feels good. It would feel great, if some fucking idiot wasn’t staring at her like a piece of fuckin’ meat-

“Can I fucking help you, fuck face, or do you wanna keep starin’ at my wife?” He demands, standing immediately. Ian and Mickey are following suit soon enough, the latter, lifting Charlotte and placing her on the opposite side of all of them.

“Woah,” the guy lifts his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the men nervously. “I just was trying to figure out where I know her from, I don’t want any issues.”

“Let’s just say you don’t know her from anywhere and you get to keep your teeth, alright?” Mickey growls.

The three men settle back into their seats and return to the game. Charlotte waves off Debbie’s confused look that she sends to the stands. She whispers into Lip’s ear that everything is fine. That the guy probably frequents the bar she works at. But from the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, zipping her jacket up to her neck and crossing her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice…Lip fucking hates himself. He really does. He hates the guys at the club that pay to see the love of his life essentially naked. He hates that they go around thinking about her after they leave the fuckin’ seedy ass building. He hates that she works there, because despite the fact that her body is beautiful and he’s glad she’s comfortable in it, his insecurity is making her insecure and now they can’t be at his sister’s soccer game, or the grocery store, or the park or the club without someone fucking eye-fucking his wife, pissing him off and making her uncomfortable in her own damn clothes.

But mostly, mostly he hates himself for not being able to make her like the women sitting on the opposite side for the other team. The soccer moms who have husbands that take care of fuckin’ everything they need and have shit to spare to give them what they want. He hates that she’s not sitting here with one of those fancy, stupid ass purses that they all seem to fuckin’ have. He hates that while they got to drop their kids off at a nice ass school after they kissed their husbands goodbye and then went shopping or drinking or whatever upper middle housewives do with their days Charlotte was helping clean his shithole house. He hates that after the game he’s gonna drop her off to the club where she’ll meet more creeps who get off thinking about her and eye-fuck her in his face. He hates that he’s too pussy to go into the club because then he’s worried he’ll steal one of Mickey’s guns and air the bitch out and Charlotte’ll be forced to visit him in jail for the rest of her life.

So Lip grinds his teeth and finishes watching the game. Leg jumping as he tries to soothe his temper. That’s part two.

Charlotte’s parents arriving is the nail in the marital coffin for Lip. They go pick them up from the airport in the attempt to make a good impression. The couple borrows Kev’s car and the whole ride their Charlotte tries to keep him in a good mood. He knew he must be walking into the lion’s den from how she’d been acting. They’d had sex twice that morning, and before he could start to offer to make her breakfast for her…efforts, she was pulling out the ingredients to make him pancakes. In the car, she didn’t whine about his music, just humming softly as it played, rubbing his arm as his hand rested on her thigh. He wants to be able to leave it at this. He doesn’t want to interrupt the great morning by asking the dreaded question, but he’s him and he can’t let it go.

“So, we haven’t really gotten to talk about it, but I need to ask…why didn’t you tell your parents about me?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath, staring straight out the window as they pull into a pickup spot. “They’re parents…you know, they didn’t exactly send me here to get married in three months.”

“They won’t approve. Fuck.” he nods.

“Bubba, it doesn’t matter.” Charlotte turns to face Lip, pulling her knee into the seat beneath her. “It doesn’t matter, I approve. I’m more worried about what you’ll think of me. My parents aren’t the nicest people, and…I’m not good with navigating them.”

“Charlotte, there’s literally nothing short of murder you could do that would make me change my mind, you’re not the one we need to worry about.” Lip pushes his tongue into his cheek absently, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, the reflection of the simple ring shining on his hand.

“This is temporary, right?” Charlotte murmurs, leaning over the console and placing her hands over Lip’s. “They’ll come, and see how good you take care of me and they’ll go home. ‘Kay?”

The blond man just nods quietly, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it, savoring their bubble one last time before they get out of the car.

“I hate the airport, it's dirty and busy all of the time.”

Lip rolls his lips together as he drags his in-laws bags over to the car, listening quietly with Charlotte as her mother and father talk about how miserable their flight has been. Her dad, Victor, had given him a curt nod in introduction and held his arm out for Charlotte to obediently place herself into a hug that Lip could tell she didn’t want. Her mother Cynthia had kissed her cheeks in a European way to where they never actually touch. Both people looked polished, and barely tried to hide their wince when Charlotte said, “This is my husband, Phillip.”

Lip’s wife’s pretty brown eyes haven’t lifted from ground level since they met her parents at the terminal, an absent look on her face as her parents drone on and on with pleasantries.

“...and, honey, don’t you think it’s a little too cold for that outfit?” her mom finishes, as the three of them stand back and watch Lip load the car.

“‘M warm.”

“I am warm.” Her mother corrects.

“I am warm.”

“I don’t know how you could be, with this frigid Chicago air. Hopefully you’re not getting sick. Phillip, you always have to watch her, she never wants to wear a coat, always trying to walk around half naked and expect not to get sick-”

“We’d better hope she’s not having hot flashes.”

“Victor!”

And that too. The snide remarks. Glances down at Charlotte’s stomach, and positioning himself between her and Lip as they walk back to the car. The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps in irritation as her father continues to insinuate that the only reason he’s here is because he’s some white trash deadbeat that knocked his daughter up.

“I’m not pregnant, Daddy.”

“As you’ve told me.” The older man grunts, sliding between his daughter and the car, climbing into the front passenger seat the second the lock clicks open, not even sparing her a glance.

“Are you guys, uh, hungry? We could stop and get something to eat.” Lip sniffs, glancing up into the rearview mirror to get a look at Charlotte. She’s in the back, toying with her fingers as she stares out of the window. That is until her mom swats at her hand to get her to stop, and she takes to biting her lip instead.

“No thank you, young man, the hotel should be fine.” Victor huffs again, for the fiftieth fucking time since he’s been in the car. “Charlotte, I made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, since you never took the time to find a physician yourself. Your mother will take you after we have breakfast. I assume you’ll be joining us, Phillip.”

Charlotte manages to look up at that, her voice resigned as she addresses her father. “Of course he will, Daddy, we’ll be with you bright early.”

The car goes silent for a moment before Victor mumbles under his breath, ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

“Daddy?”

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to pretend that this is okay? Cynthia, I tried, but this is fucking ridiculous!”

“Victor! Please.”

“Okay.” Lip grunts, pulling the car into one of the hotel parking spots in the far corner of the lot.

“No, Charlotte Andrea Fisher, you are 19 years old. You are away from home for the first time, against my better judgment. You have been away for only 3 months. You are naive, and impulsive, and for some reason want to be like your cousin Veronica so damn bad. You are going to take your ass upstairs to the hotel room your mother and I got you and you are not shacking up with this boy-”

“He’s not a boy, he’s my husband, Dad.” Charlotte whimpers from the backseat. Lip grinds his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt, catching her mother roll her eyes and rub her forehead as he climbs out of the car.

“Oh, god, the waterworks-”

“You are a little girl, and that is a boy. You’re talking about marriage, that sham is getting annulled, if it was even legal-” Victor follows suit, climbing out of the car and slamming the door, opening his wife’s before walking, meeting Lip at Charlotte’s door. The older man goes to tug it open, only to be stopped by Lip’s hand. “Move.”

“No. My wife is coming home with me.” he says calmly.

“Your wife? Your wife, she’s my daughter, and she’s coming with me and her mother-”

“Her mother and I.” Lip says smugly.

“Oh.” Victor cocks his head, taking a step closer to an unflinching Lip. “You think you're tough, boy?”

“You tell me, we’re from the same place.”

The older man glares past him to the car window again. Shifting his attention to Charlotte. “Charlotte Andrea Fisher-”

“Gallagher.” Her muffled voice calls from behind the cheap glass. “My last name is Gallagher now, Dad.”

It’s quiet. Soft. Her voice waivers. But still. She said it. And still, it fills Lip up with pride as he leans against the car door, using its keys to click it closed as he watches her mother drag her husband away. Forcing him to the hotel.

After he watches the fancy, sliding double doors close behind them and the yelling becomes a little more faint, Lip unlocks the car. The way she falls into his arms crushes him. The tears, the shaking, the sobs of ‘I thought they’d give us a chance’ that part hurt.

Lip Gallagher has watched his parents abandon his siblings. Hit them. Steal from them. Lie. Everything in the book of bad parents. He’s been watching it his whole life. He’s numb to it. It’s life, he tells them. Doesn’t matter, they don’t matter. Frank and Monica. They’ve never been anything to them, and never would be.

But watching this. Watching Charlotte lose her parents in front of him, because of him, he’s never seen anything like it. He’s sad for her. He watched them rip her to shreds with words and disapproving looks. They came here and broke the love of his life within an hour and a half.

This wasn’t the final straw.

No, because Lip’s girl is sweet. This is something he’s always known, and in anyone else he’d call it a flaw. She’s like Debbie, but less vengeful. She forgives. Gives second…third…fourth chances. Hell, its the only fuckin’ way he’s been able to keep her, and normally, he’d thank whatever shitty higher power that’s up there that dropped this woman in his lap for him to hoard to himself but not today.

“She says she wants to say sorry for him. I’m not gonna talk to him, just her. She promised.”

“Bunny, I’m not gonna tell you don’t see your mom-”

“Good!” Charlotte chirps as Lip watches her tug on some notably baggy jeans over her shapely legs, and pull an oversized sweater over her head.

“‘M gonna tell you it’d be pretty fuckin’ stupid though.” he finishes, grabbing the edge of her sweater and pulling her into his lap as he sits on the bed.

Charlotte smoothes her fingers over his cheek before leaning her forehead against his. “Hm, like threatening your boss's son?”

“Fuckin’ defendin’ your honor.” he grunts, tilting her toward him and patting her ass.

“My hero.”

“Exactly, and now I’m the fuckin’ dragon, lockin’ you up in the tower so the evil people who made the princess cry yesterday don’t get to do it again.”

“That’s really not how fairytales work. And dragons can’t lock doors.”

“Fuckin’ smartass.” Lip breathes, connecting his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. He squeezes her tightly, trying to wring every negative thought out of her head. “They hurt you.” he whispers against her lips.

“They’re my parents. They think they’re doing what’s best for me. They’re not. But that’s what they think.” she whispers back, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “So, I’m gonna go to this doctor’s appointment. Do another pregnancy test. Show them we’re married because you loveee me. And then, I’m gonna tell my mom our love story, leaving out some key details. And I’m gonna make her love you like I do, Bubba.”

Lip sits back and takes in her words. Because maybe that is what she’ll do. Maybe Cynthia will reconsider and maybe that will make things better. Maybe they’ll understand their situation and that they love each other and he’s pretty sure they won’t fuckin’ love him but maybe they’ll understand that he fuckin’ loves her. “Hopefully not like you love me. You’d have some competition.” she gasps at that, smacking his arm. “What? You look alike!”

The plan was clear. Charlotte was supposed to go and charm the pants off her mom on Lip’s behalf, he was supposed to be at home, hold down the fort, and figure out what the hell he was going to say to his boss, to get his job back.

Lip had set up shop. He’d plopped back on the run down couch in his house, and pulled one of his little siblings toys from underneath his ass and started rolling a joint on the table. It was time for him to play his part. Think. For him, and for his family.

But then there was the knock. And then it turned into knocking. It was incessant.

“Fuck! Hold on. ‘M fuckin’ coming!” He calls, tripping over the plastic bat on the floor when he makes his way over to the door. “What-”

“Phillip.”

“I…what the fuck are you doin’ here? Come to yell at me s’more?”

Victor Fisher stands with his arms crossed. Polished with a neat sweater and ironed pants, looking wildly uncomfortable and out of place in his own old neighborhood. “No, I…think I did enough of that yesterday. At least that’s what Cynthia tells me.”

“Okay,” Lip shrugs, leaning in the frame and catching Victor’s glance at the chipped paint. “Well, she tell you that she and Charlotte are going to the doctor?”

“Yes. It was my own idea to come down here and ask you to come get something to eat with me while we wait.”

The blond’s eyes narrow as he laughs incredulously. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Not at all.” Victor sighs, crossing his arms. “I am extending an olive branch. For Charlotte’s sake. Grab the other end.”

For Charlotte’s sake.

“So tech. Good business.”

“Technology and science are languages that I’ve always been able to speak. It pays too.” Lip shrugs, pushing a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Well?” Victor asks without looking up. This has been their breakfast so far. Short, stilted conversation. Lip answering the questions Victor fires at him. Trying to gauge his reactions to everything he says. Pretending he wasn’t starting to hate this man.

“Gettin’ there.”

“How many siblings do you have, Phillip?”

“Uh, five.”

“Smart like you?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“They’re smart.”

“But not like you.”

“Uh, no. Not like me.” Lip shifts in his seat, suddenly unable to follow the conversation.

“Hm.” Victor reaches to the side of the table, pouring more coffee into his cup and then into Lip’s. “Charlotte is an only child, you know that?”

“I know everything about Charlotte.”

“So, you know why we want her to go to the doctor so badly?”

“Fuckin’- yes!”

“You know she’s got chronic pain? That she suffers from sickle cell? She told you that?”

What?

Lip tries to keep a poker face as all of the wind is knocked out of his body. A thousand questions are swirling around in his head. His chest hurts. He didn’t know, why didn’t he know? He should have known-

“Do you know what happens when people who suffer from sickle cell go into crisis? What a flare up of chronic pain looks like for her?” Victor sighs, fully removing his glasses this time. “Probably not, you’ve known her for three months. But it happens, and it's bad. She…she can’t move. Barely eats, loses weight rapidly. The pains. The shakes. The crying. Are you prepared for that?”

“Yea-yes-”

“I’m sure you could. You’re a man. I understand that. You grew up here. You’ve had to be a man long before you were supposed to and that is unfair and I’m sorry that happened to you but the reality is, Charlotte is a girl. You two are a year apart, but you’re a man and she’s a girl. She grew up in a nice house, with me and her mother. She went to nice schools. We knew she was pretty, too pretty for her own good, so we protected her from the boys not worth keeping around-”

“Fuck you.” Lip scoffs.

“No, I’m not implying you’re not worth anything, Phillip. Boys like you from this area are diamonds in the rough. Just like me. I was just like you. And I got the girl. You have Charlotte, I had Cynthia. I know how it feels to hit the lottery.” Victor pauses to take a drink of his coffee, gesturing to the waitress for the check. “But Phillip, I don’t speak to my siblings. My parents. They were deadbeats. My siblings stayed here. I left them behind. They hate me. All of them. And over time, I’ve learned that I don’t care. I chose Cynthia. I chose me. They were holding me back. I let them go. Because you’ll learn, Phillip, that getting there only gets there, when you can focus. You can’t keep two families afloat.”

Lip works his jaw irritably, feeling his skin heat with irritation as he weighs what his father and law says. “What are you trying to say? I should abandon my family?”

“No. I’m saying it's not too late to choose them and annul your marriage. We both know you can’t take care of Charlotte. Not the way she should be. Not for a long, long time. So give her back to people who can. People who can make it worth you and your family’s while.”

“I…” Lip grits his teeth at the sound of his voice cracking. “I love her. I take care of her.” “She’s been living here, working as a stripper under your care. Want better for her, Phillip.” Victor says, snapping his checkbook closed as he slides the piece of paper across the table. The waitress comes over with the bill, dropping it between the two men and Lip absentmindedly reaches into his pocket to find some money, pausing when the older man holds his hand up to halt him. “Don’t worry, son. I’ve got it.”

Sending the message was hard, but it was the only way Lip knew how.

He knew he couldn’t look Charlotte in the face yet. No. He needed more time. Time to think. Time to decide he was doing the right thing. Time to finish talking himself into this.

Victor told him what he needed to do. Bend her heart, not break it. Neither of them wanted to see her broken. Just hurt her enough that she’s prepared to go home. Charlotte’s stubborn, so she won’t just give up. She won’t run to her parents so easily. So Lip would need to be able to hold out long enough that she would give up. Get tired. Realize it was over and go home.

And Lip would be able to pay the bills in the house, for the next three months. One month for each one he and Charlotte had together. He would be able to get his family a car. He would have something to drive back and forth to work in. A real car. Not a run down busted up car barely off the junk lot. A real car. One that he could keep for years.

So, he came home. Her mom kept her out a long enough time, clearly in on this plan to write him out of Charlotte’s fuckin’ life. He went to his house. He looked his siblings in the face and told them that he was ending things with Charlotte. And they were fuckin’ pissed. The kids weren’t talking to him. Debbie said she hated him. But she’d get over it. That’s what Victor had said when he’d told him how they loved Charlotte.

Carl mumbled something about a ‘waste’ and shoved past him. Liam doesn’t understand. And Lip knows that he’ll feel horrible when his baby brother wakes up tomorrow asking for her.

Ian and Fiona were the worst. Ian started rattling insults immediately. Telling him what a piece of shit he was. He knows. Telling him this is the only chance at something good, at love he’ll actually get. He fuckin’ knows.

Fiona just asked so many questions. Why? What happened? Are you sure?

That all stopped when Lip shrugged, schooling an emotionless expression onto his face, dropping the check onto the kitchen table and snapping his phone closed as he finished his message. “It’s done.”

All of that hurt. It fucking sucked and he felt like blowing his brains out when the flood of text messages started rolling in. But nothing could beat the crying. The begging.

“Bubba, please.” Her voice is small on the opposite side of the door, the whining lilt to it has his entire body tense as he leans against the wood, staring at the wall over Ian’s shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with any of his siblings. “I love you. Why are you doing this?”

“Lip-” Fiona starts, cutting herself off when her little brother looks up at her, wide blue eyes watery with tears, an exhausted look on his face, jaw clenched so hard she worried his teeth would crack. She thinks this is a mistake. She loves Charlotte, and even more, Lip loves Charlotte more than anything, but this was his decision, and he was her brother.

“I love you, what did I do? M’sorry.” she whimpers, soft thump letting the three siblings know she’d slid down the door. “Please, I love you. Please…st-stop.”

The three eldest Gallaghers stand there in a stalemate. Ian shifts on his feet, quietly shaking his head as he looks away. Fiona watches her brother struggle somberly, wondering if she could have done anything that would have avoided this.

And Lip, silent, straight faced, completely devoid of emotion as he rests his head against the door, staring forward. The only indication that he feels anything at all is the few tears that managed to escape down his face.

It goes on like this for an hour and a half. At 40 minutes, Ian scoffs, mumbling under his breath as he storms his way up the stairs, slamming his room door closed, causing his sister to flinch. Once the standoff reaches 1 hour and 15 minutes, Fiona sighs, scrubbing a tired hand down her face before patting an unmoving Lip’s shoulder, retiring to bed herself.

The sobbing and constant knocking at the door had slowed to quiet pleas, still making Lip’s chest hurt just as bad. He’s doing what’s best for her. He knows that. It hurts now, but she’ll recover from this. She’ll be better, she’ll have a chance to do better than him.

Lip will never recover. He knows that too. He knows that this is his better. His best. Being with Charlotte is everything. That’s why he doesn’t deserve it. He should’ve never tried to drag her down with him. He can’t give her the life she deserves, or the things she should have access to. He could only offer her hard work, and being bound to mental illness and alcoholism. Trapping her with a baby, forcing her to live in the fucking slums and dance for a couple of bucks from creepy frat boy fucks and drunk limp dick losers like his father.

Soon he can hear footsteps approaching the doorway, Charlotte is immediately riled up by the presence of whoever it is. “No, no, no, he needs to talk to me. Something is wrong, I don’t know what I did- Phillip, please.”

“C’mon Lottie, let’s go home.” Lip recognizes Kev’s muffled voice from the opposite side of the door. After some quiet arguing, he finally releases a breath when he hears the wood creak under the weight of them walking away.

The man ignores the crushing feeling in his chest, the gut wrenching pain that comes with the realization of what he’d just done. A numbness spreads over his limbs as he hazily makes his way over to and up the stairs, breathing shakily. He reaches the doorway of his dark room and stops there. He wants his bed. He wants to climb under the covers and pretend he didn’t just blow up his fuckin’ life. But he can’t make it over the threshold.

This is her room too. He didn’t think this through. She’s touched everything. How was he supposed to lay in the bed that they laid in together? Her clothes are still in the drawers. Pictures still taped to the mirror and walls. Fuck.

It’s humiliating, the way he breaks down. Strong shoulders shaking with stronger sobs. Body curling over until his knees simply give out, he sits on the floor next to the crack in the wall where Carl had drilled a hole to hide drugs for Frank. The sound of miscellaneous toys left out squeaking under him. Lip pulls his legs to his chest and cries, because it’s all he can do. Despite every ounce of his being telling him, ‘stop being a bitch,’ ‘the fuck are you cryin’ about, pussy?’ he can’t help it. And he doesn’t stop. Not when his throat started getting sore, or his back started to hurt. Not when the sun starts to peak in through the half broken window in the hallway. Not when he feels his little sister lay a blanket over him before sitting beside him, quietly resting her head on his shoulder.

Charlotte doesn’t fare much better. She finally fell asleep with V rubbing her back, sleeping in her cousin’s bed while Kev slept downstairs. When she wakes she has a pounding headache, her eyes are puffy and burn. She wraps one of the blankets around herself before dragging to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face.

She’s hurt. Heartbroken and confused. She knows why he’s doing this. Her parents said something. Did something. Something that made him decide she isn’t worth the trouble.

But she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She loves Phillip. She loves her husband, and she didn’t take their time together lightly. She pulls on one of Phillip’s sweatshirts and jumps her way into a pair of jeans before looking at herself in the mirror.

“Hey, honey,” V’s soft voice comes from behind her, Charlotte’s cousin appears over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I’ve gotta,” she sniffs, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’ve gotta take Liam to daycare. And um, make sure Carl remembers his science project. See if Phillip wants me to have lunch with him at work today, I could…I could make him something-”

“Lottie.” V interrupts, “Didn’t Lip-”

“He’s confused.” Charlotte says sharply, swinging her purse over her shoulder, holding her hand out to her cousin expectantly. “My key to their house is in our room. I…don’t normally need it.”

“Charlotte, listen. I’m not saying this to hurt you, but that boy left you crying on the porch in the cold, that sends a message. Don’t you think you two need space?”

The younger woman shakes her head stubbornly, looking forward to the door, refusing to look at V. “No. Space will let him spiral. My parents made him doubt me, I’m gonna show him that they don’t know what they’re talking about, that I’m what he wants and needs, no matter what they say.”

Determined, Charlotte makes her way next door, unlocking the door with V’s keys and gets to work immediately. Frank is passed out on the couch, so she nudges him awake with a beer at the ready, guiding the drunken man out of the door so he won’t be there when everyone wakes up. Next she starts on the bacon and eggs, brewing a cup of coffee before climbing the stairs to grab Liam, changing and dressing him. “G’morning Liam, did you sleep well?” she coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she makes her way back down the stairs.

When she gets down there, Fiona is sitting at the table, eyes going wide as she sees her sister-in-law. “Lottie? I…when did-”

“Early this morning. I know yesterday was really weird, and I’m sorry you guys had to see that-”

“Hey,” Fiona smiles, taking Liam from Charlotte’s arms. “There’s no embarrassment with family. Gallaghers know no shame, girl, and you’re one of us.”

And she means it. Fiona watches as a wave of relief washes over the girl bustling around her kitchen, dumping fresh bacon onto a plate. “Thanks Fi.” Charlotte tucks some hair behind her ear, sliding a bowl of cheerios in front of the toddler. “I’m sorry to even ask you this, but did he talk to you about anything? Like something they said or s-something I did-”

“Mornin.”

The deep voice makes Charlotte’s heart drop to her stomach. She turns slowly, as if she’s approaching an animal that’s likely to scare. And there he is. Standing there in his pajamas, hair mussed, bags under his eyes. But still handsome as ever to Charlotte. “Phillip.”

The blond pauses for a beat. His blue eyes are cloudy for a moment as he takes in the girl before he slips past her, ignoring her extended hand, offering a mug of coffee, opting to open the fridge and grab the orange juice instead. “Hey, you come here to pick up your stuff?”

“My…my stuff? Phillip-”

“I uh, gotta get to work.” he sniffs, grabbing his bag from it’s place on the kitchen floor, slinging it over his shoulder with his jacket in his hand.

“But-” Charlotte flinches as the door slams shut, shoulders tense as she stares after her husband. Fiona quietly slips behind the girl, resting her hand on her shoulder, apologetic for her brother’s behavior, but unable to do anything about it. “He means it.”

Charlotte had whispered so quietly that her sister-in-law didn’t catch it, leaning in for clarity. “What?”

“Phillip, he’s leaving me, and he means it.” It was like a rock landed in her stomach, both painful and grounding, Charlotte steels herself. “Fine.” she huffs, grabbing her own bag and storming out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.

Phillip’s day had been absolute shit so far. He woke up to his boss’s daddy’s assistant calling him in for a meeting. No doubt calling him in to fucking fire him for beating the living shit out of his pussy ass son. Lip doesn’t regret it. Not really. But he regrets losing his fucking job.

On top of that, he came downstairs to see the one person he couldn’t handle seeing. She looked so damn pretty, mixing up in his kitchen, bein’ with his family and shit. The hopeful look in her eye as she saw him enter the room. He didn’t deserve for her to fuckin’ look at him like that. He wanted to kick his own ass for how broken her pretty little face looked when he dismissed her. He loves her. That’s why he’s doing this. Her eyes were pink and puffy. She’d been crying for him. The fact that he was fighting with himself not to like that…he’s a sick fuck. Like he’s said, he doesn’t deserve her.

Lip doesn’t even bother asking Kev to use his car to get to work, opting to take a walk to the train station to clear his head. He was in no real rush to be fired. As he blows into his hands to warm them, he lets his mind wander to the last place it needs to, but the only place it seems to want to go.

“So, what the fuck are they mad at her for? They don’t wanna do the band shit anymore?”

Charlotte giggles, running her fingers through his curls as he lays his head on her lap, scowling at the television. She was educating him on Disney movies; it seemed that in the process of raising his siblings along with his sister, he’d never gotten the chance to experience sitcoms and original movies that were formative for her childhood. He’d said, ‘I’m not watchin’, put your shit on and I’ll take a nap’ but here he was, watching intently with a wonder that made her heart ache. “Guess they don’t have your work ethic, bubba.”

Lip hums contentedly, bringing her free hand to his lips, absently pressing kisses to her palm as he continues watching the movie. “Yeah, I know you liked her little rapping white boyfriend.”

“Um, excuse me? Even though he’s cute-”

“Knew it.”

“And you happen to also be a white, blonde with blue hair, most of my exes haven’t been white, I’ll have you know.”

He tried to swallow down the comment, really. But he fuckin’ couldn’t hold himself back, sue him. “Yeah, how many exes are we talkin’ about?”

He expects for her to get offended, or be evasive. Tell him to fuck off. That’s what any of his sorta exes would’ve done. Hell, that’s what he would’ve done. With anyone but her. He’ll tell her whatever she needs to know. But Charlotte has soft edges. Even when he’s being a dick, she has softness for him he’d never experienced before.

“Not many, baby, just like, five.” She smiles gently, smoothing her hand over his hair again. “You’re the only one who matters now, Phillip.” she takes a deep breath, leaning down to press her forehead against his, and Lip can’t help but lean up to meet her, eyes trained on her face as hers slip closed. “Love you.” she mumbles.

She’s everything. “I love you, Bunny.”

With that, her brown eyes open, staring down at him with joy, she wrinkles her nose. “Ew, you like me?” she teases, squealing in his ear as he pushes himself up, grabbing her thigh and tugging her down on the couch.

“Fuckin’ brat.” he chuckles breathily against her lips, slapping her thigh lightly as he descends on her, her giggles ringing out into the air.

“Fuck.” the blond huffs out, roughly wiping at a stray tear before storming up to an abandoned car, left on the frozen grass and kicking at one of the doors, denting it slightly. He breathes heavily, shaking his head and turning to go back to his path to the train. Her laughter. That fuckin’ pretty ass laugh that she’s gonna end up giving to someone else makes him feel like he could vomit. He could hear it. In his head. It used to be nice. Now it feels like his heart is being wrenched from his fuckin’ chest. Damnit!

Lip drops his bag onto the ground, lifting his leg and kicking the car again. And again. And again. Until he stops. Then, he starts punching the windows, his knuckles start getting bloody as the glass shatters and breaks under his efforts. But he keeps going. He just keeps punching, and kicking, and screaming…? When did he start doing that?

He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.

“Lip…?” A familiar voice calls out. Familiar, but not the one haunting him now. “Well, it’s been a while, I can guess how you’ve been.”

He stops, turning to look at the person intruding on his break down, brows furrowed. The blond reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, raising it to pluck one into his mouth before offering it to them. “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Needed a nice bed, and food. Came to check on my mom. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I’ve been doin’?”

To say Charlotte was pissed off was an understatement. Hot, angry tears stream down her face as she swings open the door to V and Kev’s house, throwing her purse on the floor. She tries to level out her breath as she pushes into the bathroom. Charlotte rests her hands on the sink as she watches herself cry in the mirror. Sobs racking her body she doubles over with the force of her crying. She was glad no one was home to see her like this.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing when she climbs into the tub, bringing her knees to her chest. She raises her left hand to look at the small ring on her finger. It’s not what she used to picture. When she was younger, she would envision her life. She would dream about what her ring would look like. What her husband would be like.

It was always a ring like her mother’s, a large house like she grew up in and the some faceless prince who spun her in circles but surprisingly never spoke.

This life she was building with Phillip was nothing like that. They live in a small house with his siblings, he’d shared a room until he was 18 and got her ring from his drunken father. It was small, and wouldn’t pass as a kids toy where she came from. Phillip was quiet compared to his siblings, but generally loud, crass, and aggressive. With everyone except her at least. He was a prince. He does spin her around, and hug her, and kiss her and look at her like she’s everything. The life he gave her was better than she’d imagined.

But he’s ready to throw it away. And it hurts. Charlotte is tired of being the one being hurt.

She sits in silence for a few moments, staring at the tiles on the wall before she can distantly hear her phone chiming in her purse outside the bathroom door. She tries to ignore the clench in her chest, the little glimmer of hope that it’s Phillip, calling to say sorry, that he’d changed his mind and he was coming over so they could make up. Charlotte pushes out of the tub at the third chime, walking on unsteady legs over to the bag, sniffling and tucking hair behind her ear as she squints to read the messages.

It’s her manager from the club, asking if anyone was interested in working the day party for today because the promoter’s entertainment fell through. Normally, she’d turn this down. She knows how Lip feels about her new job, and for her it was only a means to an end. They were discussing alternatives until this shit started. But maybe working a party would be a good way for her to get her mind off of things, and make some extra cash. Especially since it seems she’ll be doing things by herself for now on.

“So you got married? That wasn’t a joke?”

“Uh, nope, real shit.” Lip takes a final swig of his beer before sailing it into the street, smiling softly at the glass shattering before opening another.

“Hm, never thought you were the marrying type.”

“M’not.”

Karen shrugs, sipping her own beer and looking up at him. “Must’ve been pretty though, to get you down the aisle. Or pregnant. Both?”

“Not pregnant.” He says, opening his phone and showing her a picture of Charlotte. He supposes he’s gonna have to stop having those at the ready, if he’s gonna move on. As if he could.

“Damn, she’s sexy.” Karen’s eyes widen as she grabs the phone. She remembers the current situation and bites her lip. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. She is. Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Karen looks out into the road again, hesitating for a moment before nudging Lip’s shoulder. “Want me to take your mind off of it? It’s been a while.”

Before Lip had even met Charlotte he had told himself he’d never fuck Karen again. She’s better now, sure, but she also almost fucking ruined his life multiple times. Once he had met Charlotte, he hadn’t even thought of it. He really didn’t consider that he’d ever fuck someone else again. A realization that surprised himself more than anyone, considering he’d never been the monogamous type.

But now he’s in pain. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever be with Charlotte again. That makes him feel cold in a way that he’s never felt before. Lip, desperate for any kind of break he can get from what he’s feeling, rolls his eyes to the sky. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Gee, you used to be a lot more excited for me to get you off.” she mumbles against his cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips.

Lip turns his head away, pulling his mouth from her reach, “Don’t um, kiss me.”

Karen looks at him for a moment before laughing. “Okay, kissing used to be your thing, not mine.” As she kneels in front of him, Lip finds himself squirming uncomfortably, looking everywhere but down when he feels her unzipping his pants. “Um…are you…is it like, too cold?”

“Uh, no, I’m…gimme a second.” He feels like he can’t breath, the ring on his finger feels like it’s literally fucking scalding his skin.

“Oh-kay.”

A few more moments pass and Karen speaks again. “Do you want me to help you? Is there anything I can do?”

“Nope, no, not at all. Just, shut up for one second, please.” He brings his hands together, tugging the ring off and putting it in his pocket and prays.

“You can think of her if you need to. I don’t mind.” she tries again.

“Um, yeah, maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and lets the images of Charlotte that he’s racked up over time run across his brain. It feels good to think of her. To sift through the memories of her smiling up at him, holding him close, crying out his name. But he couldn’t trick his mind or body. He’s in love. Still. And she’s not the girl on her knees in front of him. “No, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t I’m…I don’t think I can fuck someone who’s not my wife. At least right now.” Or ever. Shit. I’m never gonna get my dick wet again.

“Jeez, that’s serious.” Karen says. She hops up, tucking her hands in her pockets. “What is she? A contortionist?” Lip just looks at her and she sobers, her smile dropping. “Sorry. I’m serious. I’m talking to you as a friend, talk to me. Your wife is hot, and nice, and clearly has a hold over your dick, so what’s the problem, why’d you leave her?”

“She’s perfect.” Lip sighs, lighting another cigarette, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he works back the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he cries about this in front of Karen.

“Okay so-”

“She’s perfect. She’s everything, she deserves everything and I am stuck here. I live here. I was born here, I’m gonna live and die here and I don’t want her here to do it with me. So I can’t have her, that’s fine I’m teaching myself that it's fine but it fuckin’ sucks! It fuckin’ sucks Karen, and it’s fuckin’ worse because she’s willing to stay. I hate her for not making this easy!” He roughly throws the bottle into the street, barely missing a parked car.

“Oof. Okay. Clearly, you need to get your mind off of things.” She says, scooting the remainder of the six pack the pair of them bought from the liquor store across the street away from him. “C’mon, let’s get you a real drink and some recreational drugs.”

“You’re making some good tips out there girl, they’re loving you at this party.”

Charlotte smiles briefly before leaning over the vanity, reapplying her lip gloss in the mirror.

“Of course they are, they’re actually seeing her. Normally, guests only get a glimpse of the back of her head, before she runs into the back again to check in with her man.”

“Well, he won’t be checking in today, so-”

“What?”

Trish leans back in her own seat to look at her friend. “Did something happen with you and Lip?”

Charlotte tries to ignore the quiver in her lip and stare forward into the mirror, focusing on the pink she’s applying on her lips. “I dunno, he’s doing his own thing, I’m doing mine, I guess.”

“Well, that seems-”

“Girl, about time!” Kelsey, one of the girls Charlotte met through the club, claps, pushing her way into Charlotte’s seat. “All you talk about is that man and his gaggle of kids. Now, we can invite you to do fun stuff. We can go out!”

“They’re his siblings, first of all and they’re good kids.” Charlotte sighs, smoothing her hands over her hair.

“Gallagher kids? Okay.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, her mouth opening for her to ask her co-worker what the fuck she meant by that, something she would’ve never done a couple of months ago. But Trish beats her to it, patting her arm and shaking her head. Instead of telling her other coworkers about herself, Charlotte settles for rolling her eyes and mumbling, “We could’ve always gone out.”

“Please, the way you used to all but trip over yourself running out the door to climb back on Lip’s dick? When would we have the time to ask?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the girl loving her man, Renee.” Trish intervenes, leaving her arm tossed around Charlotte’s shoulders. Was she really that pathetic? Did she really spend all her time running behind Phillip? She supposes that she never took the time to think about it while it was happening, but is this what everyone thinks? “Just because you don’t have one.”

“Well,” Kelsey shrugs, rubbing more glitter lotion onto her chest and meeting Charlotte’s eyes in the mirror. “Doesn’t seem like Lottie does either anymore. So, Lottie, have you dislodged yourself from Gallagher’s side or not? Are we going out”

Charlotte fully plans to say yes. For the first time since she’d met her husband, she thought that maybe this is what she should have been doing. She’s only ever had two identities in her life. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher’s daughter, and Phillip Gallagher’s wife. She’s never been Charlotte. Not when she left home, not when she got her first job, she just went from being one person’s possession to another. Maybe this is all a sign that she should focus on being alone. However miserable that sounds. That’s why, whether you believe her or not, she was going to say yes.

Until her phone rings.

“What’d you even give him anyway?”

“Don’t fucking make it sound like that, it was just some weed and booze!”

“Fuckin’ weed and booze, he’s on his fuckin’ ass Karen! Fuckin’ idiot!”

“Fuck you! How was I supposed to know he drinks and smokes like a little bitch now?” the blonde girl huffs loudly as she turns back to the drunk man in front of them, barely intelligible as he slams his hands down on the bar again, demanding to be served another drink. “Lip, seriously, we need to fuckin’ go-”

“Get the fuck off me, I’m married.”

The bar owner emerges from the back again, his cellphone in hand, a scowl on his face. “Aye, Gallagher, she’s takin’ too long, he’s scaring the real customers, get him outta here before I gotta call the cops.”

Ian groans, running his hand down his face, “Yeah, good luck cleanin’ up all the coke you’ve got on these tables before they get here. Fuck off, your place is a dive, Billy.” Turning back to his brother, the redhead, tugs his arm, making the shorter brother stumble but ultimately not moving him at all. “Lip, come the fuck on man.”

“Just fuckin’ leave me alone. Not listenin’ fuckin’ idiot-” he slurs, shoving Ian a little before grabbing a half drunk beer from the bar and downing it.

“God-fuckin’-damnit-” Ian growls snatching the already empty bottles. His brown eyes catch on something over at the door and his tense stance settles. “Thank god.” he mumbles under his breath.

Karen’s eyes follow his over to a woman who looks just like the one Lip had shown her earlier, a tense, concerned look on her pretty face. Her cheeks dimple as her lips turn down into a frown upon spotting the spectacle in front of her. Her hair is tied up into a clean bun, her body covered with a matching sweat suit. Her eyes look exhausted. So that’s the wife?

“Phillip-”

“Bunny, you’re here, come drink with me, baby.” The blond offers her a crooked, drunk smile that has the same knee weakening effect on both women. His muscled arm shoots out, wrapping around the girl’s waist and tugging her to him, all but dragging her into his lap.

“No, Phillip, it’s time to go home. Let’s get you up.”

Big blue eyes roll closed, his forehead falling forward, uncoordinatedly thunking against the woman’s forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeping her tired, sad eyes on him as he inhales deeply, breathing her in. “We gonna go home together?”

It’s the softest voice Karen has ever heard the eldest Gallagher son use. He’d spoken to her softly before. They’d been best friends, lovers. He was always scared of her leaving…rightfully so. But this, it was like he was scared that she was going to break if he rose his voice too much. It was like he was whispering a secret that’s just for them and everyone else in the room is intruding. Karen hadn’t ever seen anything like it. She likes this for him.

The girl was ordering water, grabbing a straw from over the bar and guiding it to Lip’s mouth as he stayed close, rubbing his hands along her hips and mumbling about missing her between gulps. She hadn’t even looked at Karen, her eyes had locked on Lip since arriving. “Um, I’m Karen by the way.”

Big brown eyes finally take her in. There’s no disdain behind them. No hate. She doesn’t look at her like every other girl who’s ever loved Lip has looked at Karen. She just offers a tired look. Glossed lips parting briefly, snapping shut again when she feels the Lip’s head droop forward onto her shoulder, quick hands shooting up to cup the back of his curls. “I’m Charlotte. I’ve got to get him home, are you okay?”

“I’m..I’m sorry?”

Charlotte bites her lower lip in determination as she pats his cheek, getting him to stir awake again. Her eyes never return to acknowledge Karen. “Up, Bubba, up. Are you okay to get home? I…need to take him home, are you okay?”

Oh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Ian, can you please help him, help him stand?” Karen watches as this woman, Charlotte helps hoist Lip’s weight onto Ian, the redhead slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulder, nodding at Karen as they make their way out of the bar with her…ex? Best friend?

She can’t help but compare herself to the girl. She knew that they were both pretty, generally attractive in different ways. Both short. Big eyes. Round faces. Their difference physically was glaringly obvious, but that wasn’t what mattered. It was in the eyes. Everything is in the eyes. Not the color, but the looks.

When the evening started to turn sour, Karen had been fucking annoyed. She hates babysitting. Hates having to take care of people. That’s why she’s always loved being around Lip in one way or another. That’s why they’d been such good friends. He was the caretaker. He takes care of people. His family, neighborhood kids, her. He doesn’t ask for anything for himself aside from the occasional blowie, and it was mostly a joke.

Until he asked for more. Until he asked for love, attention and care and a partner. Things that Karen had no interest in. Things that crazy bitch Mandy wasn’t able to give him. He needed too much. He went from something easy to do, someone easy to be around to being this person who needs things.

It was hard, too hard. Being with Lip is exactly the daunting task people think it would be. But Charlotte, his wife, she’s doing it. She looks exhausted, pissed off, and just caught her husband hanging out with his ex. But she came. She managed to unclench her jaw and offer him a soft look and kind voice.

Karen had been poison to him. She knows that. She was bad for him, and to be honest, she’d thought that even with the time had passed he wouldn’t have been strong enough to get her out of his system. But, she should have known better than to underestimate Lip Gallagher. He found something good. Someone for him.

Good for him.

“I know you’re mad at’me.”

“Shut up, man, you’re just gonna make stuff worse.”

“M’talkin to my wife, motherfucker, you shut up.” Lip slurs as Ian all but drags him down the street. “Sweetheart-”

“Phillip, please.” Charlotte begs, voice cracking as she refuses to turn around and face him. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her own form, walking several paces ahead of the Gallagher brothers up the dark road. “Please.”

It had been going on since they started walking. He keeps trying to talk to her. He keeps calling her all of these sweet names and they fucking hurt. They hurt like him telling her that they could get their marriage annulled. They hurt like him telling her to go with her parents. They fucking hurt like him let her sit on his front porch crying and begging just to see him as he sat on the other side of the door. And now, she understands that he’s drunk or high or whatever, but she needs him to stop talking.

Her plea is answered with the silence she asked for. Shocked that he actually went silent, Charlotte whips around to see if he’d fallen asleep, but is met with big blue eyes with dilated pupils, brows softened as he meets her shaky gaze.

The woman turns around so he can’t see her chin tremble as she leads the group onto the streets. Another voice breaks the silence, over the sound of three sets of footsteps, only one set steady, the other two, sloppy and wavering. “Lottie, what do you wanna do?”

She knows what he’s asking. They’re rounding their homes. Where should he put him? Is she going to stay with him? And she immediately feels shame wash over herself. She knows the answers to all of those questions. She should be embarrassed. This man has treated her like shit over the last 24 hours. She hates how he made her feel about herself. She didn’t understand how he could be both the man who strolled past her as if he didn’t know her this morning and the one who was just looking at her the way he did.

But she’s weak, and he’s everything.

And she’s already shifting his weight from his brother's arms into hers, stumbling a little under it as she guides him toward her cousin’s house.

“Charlotte.”

“It’s okay.” she breathes. “I’ve got him.”

And she struggles getting him to the door. He tries to help, she can tell. But he’s too fucked up, his motor skills are lacking and only set back any progress she makes. She grips the railing with her spare hand as she helps him up the last step. She tells him to watch his step as she leads him through the doorway, eyes locking V’s as the wooden floors creak under his steps. She ignores the disappointed look on her cousin’s face as she guides her husband to her room. Their room.

But as she pulls the shoes from his feet and helps him into bed, she’s confident in one thing. Charlotte knows she loves this man. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks the breaking point should be, or who they envision her with. She wants him. And she was going to keep acting like it.

Charlotte feels a tightness around her waist as she wakes up in the chair she’d dragged into the bedroom once she’d gotten Phillip settled. Her eyes are already watering as they peel open, burning from tears and exhaustion.

“I fucked up, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte sighs, sniffling a little and letting her head drop back against the wall. “How bad?”

“I fuckin’ hurt you-” his voice is muffled against her stomach, his arms tightening around her, fingers squeeing and releasing the fabric of her shirt.

“Yes.”

“I hate that. M’just fucked up, y’know? But m’sorry, baby, m’sorry.”

Charlotte is annoyed by the sob that leaves her body involuntarily, causing him to pull her even closer to him, her butt almost hanging off of the chair. She’s even more annoyed that she’s wondering if his knees hurt from kneeling on the floor in front of her. She shouldn’t care. “You left me outs-side alone.”

“I know, baby, I know.” she feels a wet spot forming on her shirt and tries to stop her lower lip from shaking. “Fuckin’ supposed to be taking care of you. I’m a shitty husband, you deserve better. And I’m trying to be that, I swear, Charlotte I fuckin’ swear. I…I’m gettin’ to keep my job, and m’gonna save more, gonna get us some more money, just gimme a little more time, sweetheart. I know this fuckin’ sucks, but I’m gonna do better-”

“You’re hurting me.” Charlotte mumbles, staring up at the ceiling, letting the tears freely fall down her cheeks.

Suddenly his arms are gone from her waist and he’s staring up at her, frantically running his hands through his curls. “M’sorry, I was holding you too tight-”

“Have I done anything to make you believe I won’t wait? Have I cheated on you? Made you feel bad about not having a house for us? Buying a car right now? Anything? What did I do to deserve you telling me you didn’t want to be with me anymore? Stop hurting me!” She finishes with a stomp, feeling childish. Lip is quiet as he listens to her, his hand running along her thigh in soothing strokes.

“You’re perfect. You didn’t do anything, Charlotte. That’s why I was fuckin’ tryin’ to do the right thing.” Lip huffs, clenching his jaw anxiously. “I was tryin’ to give you up. Because there’s somethin’ wrong with me Charlotte. I can’t get out of my head. Everyday I wake up and hear how too fuckin’ good for me on loop in my head, and then people remind me, and I can say fuck ‘em, they’re not you, I don’t care what they think, but then your parents came-”

“Fuck them too.”

“No,” Lip pushes up off the floor and paces in the room. “Not fuck them, because yes, they’re fuckin’ assholes, but they made you, and you’re fuckin’ everything, so they are pretty much the authority on what’s good shit and what isn’t. I don’t deserve you, they know it, I know it, for some fuckin’ reason, you don’t know it, so let me make this clear for you, Bunny. This shit shouldn’t be so hard. I’m hurting you. That’s not what being in love with you feels like for me. My love for you isn’t good enough, because it’s making you suffer. Being in love with you gives me a fuckin’ reason to breathe. So I was trying to be fuckin’ good. And let you go.”

Charlotte watches as he finishes, standing in front of her. Blue eyes bloodshot. The veins in his neck popping out, his chest rising and falling with effort. He looks so serious. And all she can do is laugh. Literally, put her head in her hands and laugh.

“Um…what the fuck?” he asks incredulously, watching her shoulders shake with her laughter.

“You’re such an asshole, Phillip.” she giggles, wiping her wet cheeks, gasping in an attempt to stop her own laughter.

“I’m really not fuckin’ gettin’ the joke here.”

Charlotte shakes her head, crossing her legs as she sits up fully in the chair, trying not to break at the confusion on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for you to decide that you want to save me the trouble of being in love with you? You pursued me, you asked me to marry you, you made me love you and it's too late. I’m stuck. You leave, I’m still hurt. You stay, you can choose to man up, make good on your promises, stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good husband. You want to stop hurting me, then stop hurting me. Stop talking about me deserving better and be better.”

The couple stares at each other from across the room, nothing but white noise from the house fills the air as Charlotte’s challenge hangs between them. A few beats pass before Lip begins slightly nodding his head, the same focused face he keeps when he’s working on a project from work, or doing people’s taxes for extra money. Lip smooths his hand over his jaw, clearing his throat. “Okay. I’ll be better.”

“Okay.”

“Can I…uh, hold on a second.” The blond murmurs, crossing the floor and places his hand on her jaw, dragging her up into a deep kiss, absolutely breathing her in as he nearly pushes her chair back with the force he pushes against her. He breaks away only lightly, his lips against hers, as he speaks. “I love you. I’ll be better.”

“I love you too.” she smiles. “And I know.”

This is good…this is better. I’ll deal with the rest later.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #oc #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #kevin ball #lip gallagher x oc #veronica fisher #shameless #gallagher #better #charlotte fisher #lip gallagher x you #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

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fluffypandabun · 1 year

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Are you doing the prompt list for welcome home? If so how about 8 and 20 with lee Wally and Ler Eddie?

"Well, someones grouchy!" Eddie hummed, hands resting on his hips as he looked down at the smaller puppet he'd come across during his rounds sitting cross-legged on the grass. Paint palette and brushes throw aside in a huff and a paint-splattered canvas before him. Wally huffed, crossing his arms across his chest, the yellow puppet avoiding Eddie's gaze. "I am not grouchy." He muttered in his usual cool tone. "Im just...frustrated." The mailman cocked a brow "Oh, so that's why you're sittin' here pouting like a little kid who just got told he couldn't have ice cream for dinner." Wally sent a glare his way. "I am not pouting!" he huffed while pouting. Eddie simply shook his head fondly as he crouched down more to the smaller puppet's height. "Well, what got you so grouchy in the first place huh?" "Im not-!" Wally sighed, shoulders slumping as he gestured vaguely to the canvas in front of him "I just...I just can't get it to look right! I've been at it all morning and nothing I do seems to help it." Eddie's gaze softened as he looked down at the blue-haired painter. "Aw Walls, I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. You're a great painter! Everyone has off days sometimes!" The yellow puppet said nothing, simply looking towards the ground with a frown that could rival Franks, arms crossed. Eddies' face twisted into a worried frown before his lips curled upwards mischievously. He couldn't let his dear friend go about looking so sad! It just wouldn't do. "Aww. c'mon" He cooed, voice taking on a teasing tilt as he reached out with a large finger to gently poke and prod at Wally's exposed side. "Smile!" The reaction was immediate, the dejected frown on the puppet's face quickly began to curl up into his signature grin, though he tried his best to fight it. Squirming about and making blind attempts to push at Eddie's poking fingers. "H-Hehey! Cut that out!" "No can do friend!" Eddie chirped, grinning widely. "Can't stop till we find that smile of yours! Now I know it's in here somewhere..." The mailman trailed off as he now used both hands to poke and prod and wiggle his fingers into any spot he could reach, all the while Wally fought against the laughter bubbling up in his chest, taking to curling up on the ground in an attempt to shield himself from his friend's playful attack. "Come on, where is that smile? I know it's in here somewhere! Is it here? Orrrr here? Or maybe it's...here!" The puppet found an opening to shove his wiggling fingers underneath the yellow-skinned painter's arms.

The reaction was instant, the smaller puppet immediately clamped both his arms down tight to his side, a wide smile finally taking over his face and he squealed and burst into wild giggly laughter. Eddie cheered. "Haha! There it is! I knew we'd find it!" Wally snorted softly as he frantically kicked out his legs, rolling back and forth on the ground lost in his mirth. His cheeks aching from how wide his smile has become.

"N-Nohohohoho! Eddie! C-Cut it out!" "Hm? Cut what out Walls? I'm not doing anything! You're the ones who got my hands all trapped! " to prove his point he wiggled his fingers slightly causing Wally to let out a giggly squeak. "I am really happy to see you smiling again! I much prefer this happy Wally over that grouchy Wally! Wouldn't you agree?" "Eddiehehehe!" "That's my name giggles!" If the painter's face could get any redder it certainly did, after a few more moments of squirming around lost in laughter Wally finally threw in the towel. "Okay! Okayheheh! I-hehe! I gihihihive!" "You feeling better?" Eddie hummed, giving the puppet's side a gentle tweak causing him to squeak. "Yehehes! I do!" "Great!" The mailman chirped, instantly pulling his hands away and leaving poor Wally as a curled-up ball of giggles, after a moment the puppet uncurled himself and sat up red-faced and disheveled. And, most importantly, with a big smile on his face. Eddie beamed. "There! See! I knew we'd find that smile of yours!" Wally let out a low groan, covering his red face with his hands though he still smiled past his fingers. "Did you have to go about it like...that?" "It worked didn't it?" Wally peeked past his fingers to look at his still discarded canvas, and though he would never admit it, he was feeling a lot better. And a lot more inspired. "Yeah..." He gave Eddie a more genuine smile "It did."

#pandabuns fic #pandabuns posts #Welcome home tickles!#Wally tickles!#anon #thank u sm for this prompt it was very fun to do #i loved it sm #eddie is a big lee but he can also be a very soft ler #same with wally #hes secretly a big lee #still figuring out how i wanna write these guys

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robinismywife · 9 months

Text

[ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 ] (p.4)

PAIRING: Elvis Presley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Y/n has an interesting conversation with Colonel Tom Parker, one that makes her question everything.

WARNINGS: Idek. If you find any plz inform me!!

A/N: Most of the information in this chapter might be inaccurate but it's all for the plot girlies ;) Thank you SO much for being patient with me. I know the plot is moving slowly but believe me we're getting somewhere! <3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER : PART 3

(the gif is not mine!)

"Are ya ready honey?"

"No, it's embarassing- Everybody's looking at me all weird and we're not even in there yet.." She pouted with a pleading look on her face, which had the exact opposite effect on Elvis than she had anticipated. Instead of feeling bad for her and comforting her, he burst out laughing and shaking his head in disbelief "What?! E, I think I'll just stay outside I-"

"Aw nah, I ain't hearin' none of that Y/n- I done told ya that I want ya there, honey" Now it's his turn to frown and plead, grabbing her hands soflty and rubbing circles on them.

"Really..?"

"Really. I really want ya in there with me. You're my person, you know? Everybody needs a support system, hmm? What'd you say?"

"Oh fine! But I'm only doing this for Frank Sinatra" Y/n wrapped her arm around his bicep as they stepped into the studio. The flashing lights were blinding them and she had to constantly look down so as not to step on something important and ruin the entire set up. Everybody was working hard to create a magical homecoming special just for Elvis, and Y/n couldn't believe that she was allowed to be there and watch as the two biggest stars on earth got to work together and bond over their love for music.

"Right, honey, right" Elvis chuckled at the girl, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. If it were any other guy acting cocky exactly the way he did she would've been pissed off, however, Elvis had such a charm about him that even his teasing felt like the biggest compliment.

"I ain't lying! I've been dying for an autograph- For my collection, you know?"

"You haven't asked for my autograph.." Elvis' lip jutted out slightly and dissapointment seemed to wash over his pretty features.

"Love, I get to hug you and kiss your pretty lil' pouty lips every day- Your autograph is the least of my concerns" Y/n laughed at how the boy's eyes lit up for a short moment "Now, get me to Mr. Sinatra now!"

"Yes, ma'am"

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Y/n could help but stare in shock as Elvis and Frank rehearsed their duet. This all felt like a dream, a fever dream. She was sure she would soon wake up in a pool of sweat and realize that everything was her sick brain's creation. Nevertheless, the way her heart pounded and the music echoed in her head, reassured her that this was her reality. Y/n was Elvis Presley's new girl.

The thought made her a bit dissapointed, how she would be depicted in the media soon. Just another one of his girls! How long will this one last?! It all felt a little overwhelming. She truly was head over heels in love with the charismatic man before her, but what if he didn't feel the same? What if he cheats on her? What if he's cheating on a girl right now? Could she be some mistress on the side and not know it? What poor girl is left thinking he'll come back?

All these questions flooded her one track mind, making her completely oblivious of her new company.

"So you met Frank, dear girl?"

Y/n turned her head only to find the Colonel sitting next to her, his walking stick rested between his legs.

"I did, Colonel, he's a very nice man" She responded carefully, finding herself stiffening up. It's like he always wanted to catch people slipping up and saying things that they would surely regret, things that he could use against them. Y/n never trusted this man and she never really would.

"Don't be fooled, my girl," The Colonel scoffed in disagreement "That man is anything but nice"

"What makes you say that..?" Y/n suddenly felt a little sad at the prospect of Frank Sinatra being a horrible human being. The small paper with his autograph in her pocket seemed to burn her through her clothes. Was just every celebrity that corrupted after all?

"He almost ruined that boy's career in seconds, little girl," He pointed at Elvis with his pretentious walking stick "Telling reporters how Mr. Presley's music- How rock and roll music fosters negative and destructive directions in young people" The man immitaded Franks voice, obviously making fun of the man.

"I- I- I don't know what to say, sir- I guess it was new back then?"

"Still, if you ask me, that man's a hypocrite- Always bashing my boy in the media but the moment he can make profit off of him, suddenly he forgets"

"Then why did you allow Elvis to do this? If that's how you feel"

"For the money of course, dear girl, and his reputation second. But money is always the priorety. How else do you think we haven't gone bankrupt? Mr. Presley surely has a spending problem, wouldn't you say?"

"What I'd say is that makes you a hypocrite, Colonel, just like the man you've been talking down on" Y/n couldn't stop the words from escaping her lips. She mentally noted to avoid Colonel Parker at all costs from now on. She didn't have the patience to deal with him again.

"A hypocrite? Nah, my girl, I'm merely doing what he's doing- He started it, not me" He smirked at her with a weird glint in his eye. Y/n couldn't understand his way of thinking. She was truly wondering how Elvis even communicated with this man, let alone plan projects and performances.

"Besides my boy will be in the movies now, eh? No need to worry about that damn rockabilly business no more"

"Movies? What mo-?"

"Colonel why are ya talking my girl's head off, huh?" Elvis stepped up to them, teasing an otherwise serious Colonel.

Did Elvis even know about these movies? Yes, Elvis had made movies in the past but it was never anything that could jeopardize his singing career. The Colonel's words kept ringing in her head. She had to find a way to talk to him about this, see how he feels about all these plans the Colonel had made for him. God knows what contracts that greedy fraud of a man had signed without Elvis' approval.

When they were finally in the backseat of their car, Y/n could actually think without the loud piano echoing around the set. What was she even getting herself into?

Y/n thought that she knew the music industry like the back of her hand, always surrounded by the most important singers and musicians of her time. However, that all came crushing down that day. In her eyes Elvis seemed like the most powerful man, someone who simply snaps his fingers and gets everything he wants without so much as lifting his pinkie. She decided that it was all a lie, a deception. How could she be so stupid as to think that musicians were anything more than a puppet on a string? A pretty face covering a corrupted industry full of money-hungry record companies and managers, just like Colonel Parker. And perhaps like RCA?

No. Now, daddy wouldn't work there if he knew all that, would he?

And now that she was thinking about it; How could she allow herself to be involved with such a man? A man like Elvis Presley. A man so blessed yet so trapped in his own good fortune and success. Maybe it would be best if this was all temporary, if she didn't end up marrying Elvis. Y/n didn't want to be trapped in that miserable life. Obviously, she would have anything she wanted supposing she stuck by Elvis' side. Clothes, diamonds and pearls, cooks and maids all working for her, all taking care of her. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing ever again.

Y/n had to slightly shake her head in order to push away that thought. No way was she going to abandon her career and independece for wealth and comfort. She had promised herself she would never do such a thing. Never. Y/n knew she was too smart and too hard-working to go to waste. No man could ever make her change her mind, even the charming Elvis Presley.

"What is that lil' brain of yours thinking over there, Littl'un?" Elvis' eyebrow lifted slightly in curiosity and amusement.

"Nothin' just how amazing today was, hun" Y/n tried to smile as nonchalatly as she could.

"Now, don't lie to me, baby- You were staring out that window like some damn lost puppy" Elvis got suddenly too serious for Y/n's liking, his protective side taking over. She couldn't deny the fact that his overprotectiveness was attractive, which made her mind lose focus from the current situation.

"It's fine, I tell ya, Elvis-"

"Aw hell!" He exclaimed as if he realized something important "The Colonel wasn't mean to ya or somethin', was he? He didn't bother you?"

"I- um-" Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Was this the right time to mention the movies the Colonel had told her all about? "No, hun, we just talked is all"

"Just talked? You sure about that?" Elvis narrowed his pretty blue eyes as if he was waiting for Y/n to crack and spill all of her darkest secrets.

"Yes, Elvis, just talked" Y/n laughed slightly to try to lighten the mood, which seemed to work since his gaze softened "Don't be so tore up about it- I'm a big girl I can fend for myself, hmm?"

"Yeah, you're right, I- I- I- I'm sorry Littl'un- I'll tell ya what, how about we don't go out tonight, we stay in, just you and me, eh?" He rubbed circles on her knee, finally making her headspace quieten down

"Sounds lovely, E" Y/n couldn't be more grateful that he didn't question her any further. This was a problem for another day, she wouldn't worry about it anymore.

Right?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis the pelvis #elvis and priscilla #elvis movie #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis songs #elvis presley imagine #elvis fans #elvis history #70s elvis #elvis the king #elvisaaronpresley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #young & beautiful

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

Text

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that.

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it.

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language.

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes.

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier.

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you.

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively.

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss.

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one.

Single.

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you.

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene.

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had.

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination?

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on.

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered.

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval.

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night.

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat.

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear.

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to.

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes.

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh.

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck.

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you.

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it.

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross.

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you.

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark.

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze.

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over.

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom.

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose.

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission.

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath.

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel.

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him.

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone.

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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lostfirefly · 4 months

Text

With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart (Ch.1)

Buggy and Catherine (OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series) were spending their evening at a bar. He was busy all week with his circus, so they hardly saw each other (yes, this happens too). A simple game leads to their first fight.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Warnings: Arguing. Drunk Buggy. Sadness.

Words: 1730

The title is taken from "The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Tails!”

Buggy tossed a coin. “Heads! I won again, my cotton candy.”

“Because you are cheating!” Catherine pushed Buggy in the shoulder.

“I’m not! Don't blame me, baby. Blame the Universe,” he laughed and sipped his beer. “Ok, it’s your turn to answer. Tell me about.. your worst date.”

“Of course it's my turn. You tricked me again and I'm answering for the fifth time in a row. Ok.. My worst date.. My worst date.” Catherine set the chin on her hand and thought for a moment. “Jimmy Bimmy Bean!”

“Jimmy Bimmy Bean? Gosh! He’s already won the award for the stupidest name ever!”

“He has his mom to thank for that. But he was cute. So.. He invited me to an amusement park..” Catherine ran her finger over the wine glass.

“But it's not so bad.”

“Shush, clown! I haven't finished yet. But I don't know if he decided this date would cost him too much, or if I wasn't worthy of riding the merry-go-round with him. All in all, he took me to an ordinary park.”

“Bastard!” Buggy said in a mocking tone.

“Shut up! This isn't the end of the story. His mom was following us. She was hiding behind bushes, trees, benches and other shit. And when he tried to kiss me, she showed him how to do it, standing behind some oak tree. Imagine, someone’s arms are hugging you, a face is approaching you, but at the same time this face is looking somewhere sideways, where his mother was standing and showing what to do.” Catherine laughed and took a sip of wine.

“I don't want to imagine that,” Buggy's face changed, he pouted.

She stood up from her chair, came behind him and hugged him. “O-oh, don't be jealous, my silly clown. It was many years ago! I was 20.”

“I’m not jealous! Jealousy is for teenagers. I'm an old grown man!”

“Yes, yes. You're a grown man.” She kissed his cheek and buried her forehead in his temple. “You know, I’m so happy we can finally spend some time together. I haven't really seen you for the whole week because of your show rehearsals. I’m ok with that. But I missed you.” Catherine gave him three quick kisses on his cheek.

“Baby, I told you, you can come to my circus tent at any time. I know where we can hide there and have some fun.” He turned his head towards her and winked.

“You're disgusting sometimes, you know that?” She pecked him on his temple. “Well. Feel better now?”

“No, your scary story about Jamboo Bamboo has deeply traumatized me. I will never be the same again and it’s your fault now, because you fell in love with me completely differently.” He turned around on the chair, made puppy eyes and hugged her around the waist. Catherine rolled her eyes and kissed him on the lips.

“Stop grabbing my ass, jerk!” She removed his hand from her buttocks. ”And what are you laughing at?”

“You should see your face now,” he laughed loudly and ran his fingers over her lips, wiping away any traces of his lipstick.

“Oh, fuck you. I hate cosmetics, and because of you, now I’m always smeared with your makeup in every possible part of my body. Even in those that are embarrassing to talk about.”

Buggy chuckled mischievously.

“Hate you. Better order me one more glass of wine.” Catherine clapped her hands lightly and sat back. “O-okay! It's my turn now! Heads or tails?”

“Heads!”

Catherine tossed the coin.

“Yes!! You finally lost, little asshole! Ha-ha! Tails!!” She happily spun around in her chair twice. “Ok-ok.. Oh! I know! When I was about 15 years old, my friend and I had a fight. To be honest, I don't really remember what it was about. But at that time I perceived our quarrel as a betrayal on her part and almost as the most tragic story in my life. Then I was afraid to talk to her for a very long time to make things better. So here's my question. You're all strong and brave. But you have to be afraid of something, right? What is the main fear for Buggy The Most Handsome Clown?”

Buggy's mood changed in a second and he answered rather dryly. “You know, I don't want to play anymore.”

“What? Why? What's wrong? What did I say?” She looked at him with surprised eyes.

“Nothing. I’ll order more wine for you.” He showed “the refresh sign” to the bartender.

“W-what? Are you offended or what? Come on! It’s just a silly question. Buggy….” She took his left hand. “What's…”

“Heeey, boss! Hi, Cath!” Suddenly two men approached the bar counter where Buggy and Catherine were sitting. One was a tall slender man with light green hair that covered a half of his face, he was a large checkered scarf. The second was with a muscular torso and thick lips, he wore a fur vest that covered the area of his chest.

“Cabaji! Mohji! What are you doing here?” Buggy's face was relieved and he patted them both on the shoulder happily. Catherine smiled slightly and nodded her head at them.

“Decided to spend the evening with beer and girls.” Cabaji smiled and made an order to the bartender. “I'm sorry, are we interrupting you?”

“Actually, y…” Catherine didn't finish her sentence.

“No. Of course not. Sit down.” He waved his right hand and the nearby chair and pulled the other out of Catherine’s hand. “Oh, your wine, sweety.” He moved the glass to her.

While Buggy, Cabaji and Mohji were talking and drinking one beer after another. Catherine gently hinted to the suddenly appearing guys that there were cute girls in the bar and they were looking at them. She rose from her chair and stood between Buggy and Cabaji.

Placing one hand on her boyfriend's back and the other on Cabaji's shoulder, she cleared her throat. "Look, Cabaji, I don't want to be rude, but we're kind of on a date here. I just.. Can we…”

“Oh, sorry. He just said..” he suddenly blushed.

“He won’t go anywhere!” Buggy’s drunk voice rang out.

“You know, I think you’ve had enough beer for today.” Catherine said calmly and tried to take the glass from his hand. “Let's go home?”

“And I’m not going anywhere. Oh, I know! Let’s throw a party in your honor! Let’s have some fun!! ” He pulled the glass out of her hand.

“All the fun of the bar is already inside you.” Catherine glanced at him.

“Baby, we’ve just started our evening. Sit down. I’ll order one more glass of wine for you. Or two. Do you want two glasses? I can order you all the wine in the world because you’re with me and you are lo-o-ovely.” He barely touched her hair with his hand and immediately took a sip of beer.

“No, Buggy. I don’t want one more glass of wine. Now I want to go home because my boyfriend is acting himself like a complete jerk.” She grabbed her belongings.

“Where are you going, my biscuit?”

“Home. And you can stay here and drink the whole bar down.”

Catherine left the bar and went home. She spent three hours on the couch, covered with a plaid. Occasionally getting up to make tea. She didn't know what pissed her off more, the fact that he didn't explain the strange reaction to a simple question or something else.

"Damn you, clown. Catherine, you promised yourself you wouldn't become the kind of girl who freaks out over little things. So why are you reacting this way? Of course, instead of explaining something, he went out of his way to answer an innocent question and started drinking with his friends. But maybe you're freaking out over nothing." She muttered to herself.

She heard someone trying to get the key in the keyhole. Finally the door opened and she heard shuffling sounds. Buggy padded drunkenly into the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Catherine.

“I’m back, my Cathie-pie,” he tried to kiss her. "Why did you leave? Do you know how sad I was without you?"

"I noticed. You know, I'm usually amused by you being like this, but right now, please get your hands off me," she tried to get up from the couch.

"Don't walk away from me, my biscuit. I love you so much," he pulled her back.

"Buggy, what the fuck?" Catherine jumped up from the couch. "Fuck, during our relationship I've never reproached you for staying late at your rehearsals or coming home drunk. I wanted to spend one evening with you. What's the bottom line? Everything was ok but you suddenly freak out over some stupid question. God, I didn't want to offend you. And what? I was trying to find out what I did wrong. Instead of telling me the reason for your weird reaction, you start drinking with your buddies. And I'm sitting in a chair like a complete idiot because I didn't know what happened. Score!”

"Baby, jeez, it's just..." He tried to get up from the couch, but fell over. "Damn, the floor's moving. You're going overboard with your desire for fucking romance. Stop overreacting."

She sighed heavily. “Thank you for saying that shit about me. Now I really don’t want to talk to you.” She went to the bedroom and lay down under the blanket.

Buggy came into the bedroom a few minutes later and lay down beside her.

"My cotton candy, stop pouting," he poked her in the shoulder.

She jerked back. "Don't touch me, what if my, as you said, overreaction causes pink unicorns to come and trample you."

"Oh, Lord, lie here and take offense till morning." He turned his back to her and closed his eyes. Suddenly he heard a soft sob from the other side of the bed.

“Catherine.. Baby, why you...” He asked, turning his head back. She didn't answer.

It was the first (and last) time in their relationship that he had heard Catherine cry.

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wordsmithwhumpsandfluff · 9 days

Note

I have a request! I read your fic where you introduce Atticus and Felix to Keiko and Am, so I'd love a part 2 of sorts? Its so good!

I was thinking sickie Kei + Atticus / Caretakers Amber and Felix/ Illness: food poisoning.

🙈🙈

Dude, this one took me so long to write!! It's so long!!!!!😭 I love this so much tho❤️

Double whump, two fics in one!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That poor boyfriend of yours,” Felix said, grinning while admiring his handiwork.

Amberlynn stood on a slightly raised platform, wearing her costume for the theater program’s production of Chicago. She got the role of Roxy, and was—to be frank—looking sexy as hell.

Black leather shorts that just barely covered the bottom of her ass, a strapless leather crop top, heeled boots, and full body fishnets. Her pale face was red as she looked down at her body in the revealing outfit. “Is there any way to make the shorts a little longer?” she asked hopefully.

”Yeah, they’re rolled up a bit,” Felix told her. “Just unroll them. That should make them two inches longer.”

Amberlynn did just that, and it did feel a bit more comfortable. Still, she had no intention of ever telling her dads about this show, no matter how much Jackson adored seeing it on Broadway.

“Wow, Amber,” Dina said, walking over in her own sexy costume. She was playing Velma. “Lookin’ hot. Keiko better bring some extra flowers to this show.”

Amberlynn smiled and blushed.

Dress rehearsals were this week. Then, on Saturday night was the show. Amberlynn told Keiko to not research Chicago since she wanted to surprise him. He was going to be very surprised.

Amberlynn changed back into her galaxy overalls and purple shirt, and brough the costume back to Felix who was with some of the other fashion majors, putting costumes into garment bags.

“Here, Felix,” she said, handing her outfit to him.

“Thanks, Starry,” he said, taking it and zipping it up. “Your boyfriend is gonna need CPR when he sees you in this.”

Amberlynn chuckled. “Good.” Then she asked, “Is your boyfriend coming to watch the show with you?”

“I might try to drag him with me,” Felix shrugged. “But musical theater isn’t really his first choice of entertainment, and Chicago costumes might make him a bit uneasy. But even if he doesn’t come, I’ll take him out to a lovely night of dinner and ice cream after the show’s over anyway.”

Amberlynn smiled. “I might do dinner, too. Keiko would love that.”

Felix brightened with an idea. “Maybe we should do a double date after the show,” he suggested. “It could be fun.”

Amberlynn also seemed to brighten at this idea. “Oh my God, yes! That would be nice.”

“Brilliant,” Felix said with a bright smile. “I’ll run it past Atti. And I’m very sure I can convince him.” His smirk told Amberlynn he had a plan up his sleeve to persuade his boyfriend. “You go ahead and run it past Keiko.”

“I will.”

— — —

“A double date?” Atticus repeated, wondering if he’d heard Felix wrong. “With Keiko and his girlfriend, both of whom I met while tossing my cookies?”

Felix pouted at his boyfriend while stirring a pot of yummy-smelling French Onion Soup—his mum’s recipe. “Well, when you put it like that it sounds like a bad idea.”

Atticus bit his cheek, conflicted. Truthfully, he wasn’t really against the idea of having a double date. But he just wished the date wasn’t with that specific couple. Just remembering their first time meeting made his face hot with embarrassment. He still sat next to Keiko in class and they were kinda like friends now, but he still felt like the night would be awkward.

“And I’d have to watch the show? The whole thing? Chicago??”

Felix pouted even more, looking like a kicked puppy. “You don’t have to come,” Felix said. “I just thought we could have some fun with it. But it’s fine, Atti.”

Atticus sighed, defeated by Felix’s face and voice. He knew the blonde knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he was falling for it. “Compromise? I’ll do the double date if I can meet you after the show. Okay?”

Felix smiled brightly, his pout instantly vanishing and a glint of victory in his eye. Clearly, this is exactly what he wanted. “Brilliant! The show is only two-and-a-half hours. Italian food is good?”

Atticus rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile. “Yeah. Italian is great. I’ll get a nice pasta with a side of manipulation.”

Felix blinked at him in a flirty way. “You love me.”

Atticus rolled his eyes again, still smiling and he kissed Felix’s cheek before walking away.

— — —

“You should find your seat,” Amberlynn said, adjusting the fishnets to make them less twisty. Her hair was styled like it was the 1920s, and Felix was still so proud with his costume design.

“Just wanna know now, do you prefer Olive Garden, or that little family owned place downtown. Bianchi’s, I think it’s called?”

“Olive Garden, definitely. I live for the breadsticks!”

“Okay, I’ll make a reservation.”

Amberlynn let out a sigh when she was done messing with the fishnets. “How do I look?”

Felix grinned and said, “Fabulous. Keiko will be drooling.”

Amberlynn laughed. “Thanks, Felix. Now go to your seat before someone takes it!”

“Okay, I’m going! I’m going!”

Thankfully, Felix got to his seat in time. The show began great, and when Amberlynn appeared in her costume, he swelled with pride. He knew Atticus would’ve hated this, so he wasn’t upset that his boyfriend wasn’t there.

Felix loved Chicago. And Amberlynn was a powerful actor and singer, which was genuinely shocking since she was usually so soft-spoken.

The songs were all amazing. Amberlynn was the perfect Roxy. The other fashion students that Felix was sitting with were all whispering “Look at Starry go!” and other stuff.

It was an exciting, dramatic, and hilarious two-and-a-half hours. Felix cackled at the moment when the person dressed as a pretty blonde news lady revealed he was a bald man (really just some guy wearing a bald cap and a fat-suit), since that part always surprised him no matter how many times he watched the show.

He texted Atticus to start making his way to the campus when the bows were about to begin. The bows took a while, and the crowd erupted when Amberlynn took her bow.

He sent a text to Amberlynn, saying to meet outside when she was ready, and he went out to find Atticus.

Atticus was waiting outside, in front of the theater building. He was leaning against a wall in a nice black-collared shirt and formal pants. His hair was combed and tied back in a manbun that Felix loved since it was incredibly hot on him.

The big guy smiled as he saw Felix and he walked over. “Hey, baby,” he said, leaning down and kissing Felix, bumping their noses together before standing straight again. “We’re waiting on them now?”

“Yeah,” Felix said, holding Atticus’s hand. “They shouldn’t be long.”

— — —

Keiko was waiting for Amberlynn inside, his face unbelievably red. Amberlynn couldn’t help but giggle when she saw him. “Heeeey,” she said, and he looked up at he with a fake accusing look, barely containing a smile.

“You are evil,” he laughed as she came up to him. He reached forward, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair. “God, I love you,” he said against her lips, making her smile widely.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said, pulling back enough to look at him. “You ready for dinner?”

He sighed dramatically. “First you make my heart explode, and now I have to sit through dinner before I get to see you in bed? Pure evil.”

Amberlynn chuckled, kissing him again and taking the large bouquet of purple flowers from him. “I promise, you can see me in bed after I enjoy my breadsticks and Tour of Italy.”

They made their way outside. Amberlynn was now in a cute purple dress with a sparkly skirt. She was arm-in-arm with Keiko as they spotted Felix and Atticus outside and made their way over.

Felix smiled as he saw her. “My God, you were amazing,” he said as they came up to them. He looked at Keiko, a brow raised. “You liked her costume?”

Keiko’s cheeks pinked as he looked at Amberlynn, smiling widely. “I loved it.”

Felix gave Amberlynn an ‘I knew it’ look.

“Hey,” Atticus said to Keiko.

“Hey, man,” Keiko said. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, all’s good.” He resisted the urge to shift on his feet.

He felt. So. Awkward.

Felix checked his phone. “Well, the reservation is in twenty minutes, so we should all get going.” He looked back at Amberlynn and Keiko. “We’ll meet you two there.”

Keiko and Amberlynn went to Kei’s car, and Felix and Atticus left in Atticus’s.

The night started off a bit awkward, and Amberlynn and Felix initiated most conversation. Atticus eventually warmed up and began acting more like his usual social self when the breadsticks came and he couldn’t help but look simultaneously surprised and amused by the fact that Amberlynn nearly inhaled her first one.

Felix sighed after his lemonade came, saying that the one thing he missed most about London was being able to order a martini since he was nearly twenty and the legal drinking age in England was only 18.

Conversation began to flow easily. Keiko was the only one unfazed when Amberlynn ate the whole Tour of Italy plate and five breadsticks without leaving anything leftover. Felix and Amberlynn kept telling hilarious stories from the dress rehearsals. Both of them exchanged glances when their boyfriends began talking to each other about their class, bitching about their professor.

Atticus and Keiko both wound up ordering shrimp scampi, and the whole night wound up being more fun than any of them thought it would be.

“Any boxes?” their waiter asked when they were done eating. They all said no.

“Oh, but a tiramisù to go,” Amberlynn said. “Bring it with the check, please.”

“Okay.”

They wound up splitting the check. And after that, they all went outside, still laughing and talking.

“We should definitely hang out again together,” Atticus said, an arm casually around Felix’s waist.

“Definitely,” Keiko agreed. “Tonight was fun.”

They all said their goodbyes and went on their ways.

— — —

“I’m soooo stuffed,” Atticus sighed as he fell back like a starfish on his bed, a bit of cookie dough ice cream on the corner of his mouth. “And sleepy.” It was basically the middle of the night, after all.

Felix chuckled. “I bet.” He climbed onto the bed to kiss Atticus’s cheek. “Imma shower now, lovely. Okay? Don’t fall asleep.”

Atticus yawned, eyes closed, and nodded. Felix knew he was gonna fall asleep, and he smiled as he stole some of Atticus’s pajamas and went to shower.

He was tired as well, but that didn’t stop him from taking as long as he usually did. As soon as he got out of the shower, he expected to see Atticus in the exact same spot, but his boyfriend was no longer in the room.

He took a second to grab his inhaler and take a couple of puffs before going to look for Atticus. He was shocked to see his boyfriend in the kitchen, panting over the kitchen sink with a string of drool dangling from his bottom lip.

“Atti,” Felix called, walking over. “Goodness, love, are you alright?”

Atticus shook his head. Felix put a hand on his back and felt how shaky he was. He reached in to cup Atticus’s forehead, expecting to feel a fever, but Atticus was just clammy and sweaty, cold to the touch. Some longish strands from his manbun had come loose, and one close to his mouth was coated in a bit of vomit.

“Bloody hell. What is this?”

Atticus jerked with a sudden heave, bringing up his half-digested shrimp scampi. Felix frowned as he wondered if this was food poisoning or something.

“C’mon, lovely, let’s move to the bathroom.”

Atticus continued to hover over the sink for a minute before pressing a fist to his mouth and nodding stiffly, his eyes a bit watery.

Felix and Atticus went back to the bedroom and into the bathroom. Atticus collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet, barely lifting the lid in time to puke again, groaning softly and hugging his arms around his stomach in pain. “Hurrrts,” he whined, making Felix frown with worry. About forty minutes ago, Atticus was fine!

Suddenly, Felix heard his phone ringing in the bedroom. He ignored it and let it ring, cooing over his boyfriend as he puked again. Atticus had sweat through his shirt and cramps were gnawing at him. “Fuck,” he whined. “I don’t— My stomach feels so gross.” He pitched forward with another heave, nearly missing the bowl, and Felix cupped his forehead to steady him.

“Just get it out, love,” he said. Then he heard his phone ring again, and he wanted to ignore it again but this was one call right after the first, so he was just a bit curious.

Atticus groaned. Then, spitting into the toilet, he mumbled, “Go check your phone.”

Felix shook his head. “No way. I’ll check later.”

Atticus let out a sigh, resting his cheek on the toilet seat, making Felix cringe. “Are you empty?” the blonde asked.

Atticus’s face twisted slightly in a grimace. “Maybe?” he guessed. “I just feel so gross. My belly really hurts.” He squeezed his stomach, forcing up a sick burp and then grimacing sourly. “Ugh. I can taste the shrimp. Ew.”

Felix rubbed Atticus’s back until he was pretty sure Atticus was done puking.

“Come on, lovely. Let’s go to bed.”

Felix had to help pull Atticus up, which was a struggle since the man was much taller than him.

Atticus sat on the edge of the bed while Felix got him some new clothes. He normally would’ve had Felix leave the room while he changed, but he was honestly too dizzy to even lift his arms above his head, so Felix wound up getting him out of his sweaty clothes and into pajamas while he just kept blushing furiously at being seen in just his boxers by his boyfriend.

Once Atticus was laying down with a trash bin by his side of the bed, Felix finally checked his phone and saw two missed calls, a voicemail, and three texts from Amberlynn.

He left the bedroom to grab some things, and he listened to the voicemail first while he went to the kitchen. In the voicemail, she’d said, “Hey, Felix. I’m sorry to be bothering you so late. I was just wondering if you and Atticus are feeling sick at all. I’m fine, but Kei is really sick and throwing up a ton. You don’t have to call me back, but at least text me so I know you two aren’t dying or anything. Bye, Felix.”

Felix wound up calling her back, and she answered after two rings. “Hey,” she said, sounding slightly worried. “You okay? Is Atticus okay? Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Felix said, interrupting her worried questions. “Atticus is sick though. You think it could be food poisoning?” He put the phone on speaker so he could still talk for rummaging for medicine. He found the cabinet it was in, but frowned in annoyance when he saw the Pepto tablets on the highest shelf. Sometimes, having an obnoxiously tall boyfriend was a bit annoying.

“Maybe,” Amberlynn answered. “They both had shrimp scampi. You think that the shrimp might’ve been bad or something?”

Felix was trying to climb on the counter as he agreed, “It’s very likely.” He finally managed to grab the Pepto and hop back down, picking up his phone and taking it off speaker. “How’s Keiko?”

Amberlynn sighed in a way that made Felix almost see her rolling her eyes. “Dying of dehydration on a cold tile floor. He’s refusing to leave the bathroom because he’s scared he’ll puke on me again in bed.”

Felix cringed, now wondering if he should be worried about that now as well. “Tell him I hope he feels better. I’ve got to go now, Starry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Okay. And tell Atticus I hope he feels better, too. Bye!”

They hung up, and Felix grabbed a glass of water and went back to the bedroom. Atticus had sat up and brought the bin up to his lap. It was still empty, but Atticus still hovered over it with his mouth unable to close because of the nausea.

“I’ve got some medicine,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He shook two Pepto tablets out of the container and held them out towards Atticus. “Here. And here’s some water.”

Atticus looked at the meds and water but didn’t take them. “They’ll come back up,” he mumbled.

Felix sighed softly. “It’s alright if they do. Or, they might help. Can you please try, baby?”

Atticus hesitated before taking the meds and water, swallowing them with a sour look. Both men waited before Atticus sighed and said, “I think I’m good. For now, at least.”

“Okay,” Felix said, taking the glass back and putting it on the bedside table. “Sleep now. Hopefully this’ll pass quickly. Keiko’s sick too, by the way.”

Atticus’s eyes widened slightly while he was moving to put the bin back on the floor. “Really?”

“Yeah. Amberlynn and I think the shrimp scampi you two had was bad.”

Atticus groaned as he laid down. “Well, that sucks.”

Felix agreed as he got in bed beside Atticus, scooting close to cuddle. Atticus gladly hugged Felix, burying his face in the blonde’s chest. Felix felt a bit guilty, knowing that Atticus wouldn’t have wound up sick if he hadn’t basically forced him to go on the double date. But, as if reading his mind, Atticus squeezed the blonde and mumbled. “I loved tonight. Dinner was fun. Love you, baby.”

Felix smiled, planting a kiss on top of Atticus’s head. “Love you, too. But please don’t puke on me, lovely.”

— — —

(When Amberlynn and Keiko got home)

Amberlynn was giggling in the elevator as Keiko fluttered kisses all over her neck and cheek, trapping her in a hug from behind. “Kei, we’re not even in the apartment yET!” She squealed as he lifted her off her feet spinning in a circle while laughing, his face buried in her curls. “Kei, you’re gonna make my tiramisù squish!” she squealed because she was holding the dessert she got to go.

When the elevator stopped, Keiko put her down but didn’t stop hugging her, forcing them both to have to walk awkwardly with Keiko still hugging her from behind. Once in the apartment, Keiko suddenly spins his girlfriend around, kissing her deeply the way he’s wanted to all night.

She laughed against his mouth, holding her dessert with just one hand and using her other to rest on his shoulder. She pulled away, smiling and looking dreamily at his eyes. “Gimmie a sec to put my tiramisù away, babe.”

He pecked the tip of her nose. “Okay.”

Amberlynn turned to the kitchen and quickly put her tiramisù away. Behind her, she heard Keiko hiccup suddenly. She chuckled at the sound, shutting the fridge and turning around, only to raise a brow when she saw him rubbing his stomach over his nice button-up. “You okay?” she asked.

He smiled at her. “I’m perfect.” She went back over, this time with both arms available, and she wraps them around his neck and kisses him.

Still kissing, they make their way to the bedroom, laughing into each other’s mouths every time they nearly trip together. By the time they get to the bedroom, Kei’s shoes and Amberlynn’s heels are long gone. Kei’s shirt is also gone, and he’s currently pulling Amberlynn’s dress above her head.

They fall on the bed together, still kissing and only breaking apart to get comfortable.

Keiko broke the kiss again to sit back on his knees, looking down at Amberlynn and just admiring her, taking her in. The whole night, she still had her beautiful stage makeup on, and now she looked giddy with her lipstick slightly smeared. Her curls were wild and she looked perfect in every way.

She laughed when Keiko just kept staring at her. “What?” she laughed.

He shook his head, grinning ear-to-ear. “You’re fucking stunning, Amber.”

The series of events that came after that could only be described as incredible and perfect. By midnight, they were cuddling in bed, Keiko wearing boxers and Amberlynn wearing underwear and one of his t-shirts. Keiko was being the big spoon, wrapping himself around Amberlynn and placing lazy occasional kisses on top of her head. She was snoring softly in his arms, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

That is, until his stomach let out an unhappy grumble. That made his smile falter a little. He had been feeling a bit off since they got back, but he’d been able to ignore it. But now it was no longer a little uncomfortable ache, and it was instead a gnawing crampy feeling in his gut. His mouth was flooding with saliva; the universal tell-tale sign that someone is about to puke.

Keiko’s whole body jostled with a hiccup, and that was enough to make Amberlynn stir slightly. “Kei?” she asked sleepily.

“I just hiccupped, baby. Go back to sleep.”

She yawned. “Yeah, okay,” she mumbled, pressing herself closer to Kei. Any other time, he would’ve smiled at the closeness. But now, her back was pressed against his stomach, and a sudden wave of nausea made him stop hugging her and sit up, an arm wrapping around his stomach and his other hand covering his mouth.

“Keiko? What’s wrong?” Amberlynn sat up as well, touching his back. “Babe?”

He shook his head, frowning. “I don’t know. I feel weird.” He rubbed his belly a bit. “My stomach is off.

Amberlynn yawned and pushed his hand away from his own tummy, rubbing it herself instead, and Keiko let her. “Indigestion or something?” she asked.

Keiko shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe?” His chest jostled with another nauseous hiccup, and he knew what was about to happen.

“Are you gonna puke?” she asked, but Keiko didn’t answer. “Baby?” she asked, moving to be in front of him, still rubbing his stomach but now looking him in the eye. “You okay?”

He wanted to tell her to get out of the way, but he didn’t even have the time to push her away enough before he vomited all over his hand, lap, and even Amberlynn’s arm and a bit of her shirt, making her yelp and jump back a bit.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Keiko apologized frantically. “I’m so—”

He stopped when he knew he was about to throw up again, and he all but leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. Amberlynn came in behind him, crouching down next to him and rubbing his back, cooing him softly.

A couple of violent heaves brought up another stream of puke. When he had a minute to breathe, he lifted his head from the toilet and looked at his girlfriend, his eyes falling on the sick on Amber’s arm and shirt. He cringed. “I am so sorry,” he said. “That’s so gross. I’m—”

“Stop apologizing, Kei,” Amberlynn chuckled. “So, what’s going on? You’re not feverish,” she realized as she cupped his cheek. “Was it the food?”

Keiko’s brows creased slightly. “I don’t. . . I—” He quickly turned his head away from her hand and threw up again.

After a few more streams, he looked at Amber, frowning. “Clean yourself up, baby,” he said. “I’ll live if you leave me alone for a second.”

Amberlynn nodded, standing and washing off her arm in the sink. Then she went back into the bedroom to put on a different one of Keiko’s t-shirts. And then she went straight back to Keiko. He was almost as pale as her, which was a very unnatural look on him.

“Hey,” she said softly, crouching beside him again. She pushed his hair back away from his face. “So, scale of one to ten? Do you doctors ever actually ask that question?”

Keiko chuckled a bit at her question, looking at her. “Yes, we ask it,” he croaked. “But I’m not a doctor yet.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking. “You might as well be with our group of idiots.”

Kei snorted, but then his face fell and he threw up again in the toilet.

It was a solid twenty minutes. Eventually, Amberlynn had gone back to the bedroom to test a theory and ask Felix and Atticus if they were also sick, in case it was food poisoning. And she also took a minute to change the sheets.

“I think you’re empty,” Amberlynn said. “C’mon, baby, let’s go back to bed.”

He frowned at that. “No, I can’t,” he said. “I’ll get sick again.”

She ran a hand through his hair. “It’s fine if you do, babe. I’ll get the bin and—”

“Nooo,” he whined, dropping his forehead on the toilet seat. “I don’t wanna throw up on you again.”

Amberlynn sighed, kissing the top of his head. “You won’t, Kei. Don’t worry. C’mon.”

By now, she could tell he was dehydrated. She tried to get him to drink some water, but it came back up right away.

She tried to pull him up, but he resisted and stayed where he was. “Go ahead and go to bed,” he said in a whiny voice. “I’ll come when— hic —I’m done. I still feel nauseous.”

Amberlynn pouted. “Keiko, at this rate you’ll wind up falling asleep here. You’re exhausted. Just come to bed.”

He shook his head, hovering over the toilet and gripping the bowl with white knuckles.

Amberlynn let out another sigh, standing. “Okay. You’re stubborn, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Amberlynn went back to the bedroom in time to see her phone ringing. Felix was calling her back.

She answered, and it turns out Atticus was sick too. Since Atticus and Keiko had the same meal, it was a no-brainer what the cause likely was.

Amberlynn and Felix only talked for a minute before they hung up, and Amberlynn began grabbing pillows and blankets from around Keiko’s apartment. She brought them all to his bathroom.

He looked up at her, confused when he saw all the blankets and pillows she was holding. “What are you—?”

“You don’t wanna leave this bathroom to go to bed, so I’m bringing bed to you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

She smiled, dropping everything and then crouching down to set it up, making a makeshift bed on the floor.

“You don’t have to do this,” Keiko said. “Really, baby, I’ll be fine if you just go to—”

“Shut up and lay down,” she told him, sitting and patting her lap.

Keiko looked at her for a second before a smile broke on his face and he chuckled. “Goodness, you are the perfect girlfriend,” he said, laying down and resting his head on her lap, hugging her legs. “Thank you.”

She smiled, running her hand through his hair. “Just close your eyes, Kei,” she whispered, reaching for one of the blankets and covering Kei and her legs. “Quite a way to end the night, huh?”

He chuckled again, planting a kiss on her thigh. “It’s definitely been quite a night.”

#thebrilliantidiots #ask game #AmberxKeiko #Felix&Atticus #So adorbs❤️❤️❤️#Keiko is in LOVEEEEEE!!!!#Atti turns into such a cuddle-baby with Felix❤️😚💘

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andydrysdalerogers · 8 months

Text

Sliding Into Home ~ Unexpected Surprises

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: A Bump In The Road

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

Frank hadn’t been this nervous to head home since Vegas. Abby, his beloved Cricket, had been in the hospital. And while she was fine, at least, that’s what Marco had told him initially, he could help the fear that seeped into his bones. Abby had been distracted, unfocused when he called. He asked repeatedly if something had gone wrong with Mary, the adoption, Mike, anything. And every time she replied the same. “Baby, everything is fine.” Things were certainly not fine, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He had been in the middle of his ten-day road trip when he got the call. And now, five days later, he was on the warpath. He made it home just as the sun was setting, light flooding the living room. He dropped his bag by the door and made his way inside. He was fuming, raging. His Cricket had been hurt and there was nothing he could do. He stomped into the den and stopped.

His Abby was sitting, turned away from him but the sunlight made it seem like she glowed. She was reading, a blanket around her presumably naked legs. She was in one of his button downs, hair piled on top of her head with just a few tendrils falling around her face. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful, and all of the tension and anger went away. She was perfect. Something startled her concentration, and she looked up and turned right towards him. She broke out into a dazzling smile. “Hi Frankie.”

He took the last few steps towards her and kneeled in front of her, pulling her into his arms. He buried his face into her neck and breathed deep. “Hi Cricket.”

Abby ran her hands down his arms to sooth him. “I’m ok, love. I’m perfectly ok.”

Frank pulled back to check over her. “I was so worried Cricket.”

“I know.”

“When Marco called and said you collapsed, I just…” he took a deep breath, “I thought I was losing you all over again.”

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” She held onto him tighter. “I’m ok, I promise. I’m better than ok.” She kissed him softly.

Frank wiped his eyes. “If you are sick, baby, you have to call me and let me come home. I’m supposed to take care of you. In sickness and in health. I promised your dad I would take care of you.”

“Frankie, you left me with my brother and your best friend. I am being taken care of. And it's my responsibility to take care of myself as well and I didn’t. That’s on me.” Abby cradled his face. “There are gonna be times when I’m sick and there is nothing you can do but ride it out. But I promise, if something is seriously wrong, I will let you come home, ok?”

Frank nodded and then hugged her tightly. After a few moments, he pulled away. “Where is Mary?”

“Scott and his new man, Steve, took her with Marco for burgers. I figured you were gonna be in a snit when you came home.”

“I am not in a snit, Abigail.”

“You are too, Franklin.”

Frank pouted slightly. “Fine, I was in a mood.”

“A snit.”

“For the love of…” he looked at his wife’s face. Her beautiful face read him like a book. “Fine. I was in a snit. Happy?”

“Thrilled. Now I want to show you something.” He stood up, lifting her in his arms at the same time. “I was thinking of decorating another of the rooms upstairs.”

“Ok, then let's head upstairs.” He carried her up, Abby giggling all the way.

“It’s the room next to ours,” she directed. “I was thinking of adding a doorway.”

“A doorway?” Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “What to make a bigger closet or something.”

“Something,” she replied with a shrug. He made it to the door, and she slid down to stand. “I’m just thinking we need access, so we don’t wake up Mary or Scott.”

“Babe, I love you, but I don’t think we wake them up now. I mean, what could possibly…” he opened the door and stopped when he peered inside. “What the… Abby?”

Inside was a plain room with a bassinet in the center with pink and blue balloons. Frank stepped inside and looked in, finding pregnancy test and a onesie with the words “Can’t wait to meet you, Daddy!”

“Surprise,” Abby said softly.

“Abby,” Frank swallowed. “You’re… we’re…”

“The reason for the dehydration is because I’m pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby.” Abby’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears. She had been so nervous to tell Frank, afraid of his reaction of them taking this next step so soon.

“You’re pregnant.” Frank took his wife’s face in his hands. “You’re having my baby?” She nodded. “Fuck, you’re having my baby!” He picked her up and swung her around, laughing and kissing her. He set her down on her feet. “Umm, how much, like, time, wait!”

Abby giggled. “I’m about six weeks or so. I have a scan tomorrow to be sure.”

His hand dropped to her stomach. “My baby is in there.”

“Yes, our baby is in there.”

Frank hoisted her back into his arms, guiding her legs around her waist. “I love you so much.” He kissed her softly but with so much passion. “Let’s celebrate Cricket.”

“Take me to bed Frankie. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too. My beautiful baby momma.” He walked them into their bedroom. He gently laid Abby on their bed and hovered over her, careful not to let his weight crush her. He kissed her softly, on her lips, then her forehead before moving down by her ear. “you are the most beautiful, amazing woman I know. And I can’t believe you will give me the greatest gift possible.” He felt her trembling with desire as he moved down. He lifted his shirt away from her torso and kissed every inch of skin. He unclasped her bra and dragged the straps down.

Her breast hadn’t changed but when he went to suck on one, Abby hissed. “Sensitive.” Frank moved back to just kissing the flesh. He moved south but when he got to her navel, he realized where he was. He looked up at Abby and smiled. He kissed the middle of her belly.

“Hi baby. I’m your dad. I can’t wait to meet you too.”

The tender moment brought Abby to tears. “Cricket?”

“I’m sorry, it's just so real now.” Frank moved back up to hold his girl. He started over on his kisses until he got to her shorts and pulled them and her panties off. Frank kissed her belly once more before kissing the apex of her thighs, gaining a soft moan from his girl. He took his time, tasting, sucking, licking until Abby was a withering mess. “Please Frankie.”

“What do you want Cricket?”

“Want you. Need you,” she whispered.

“You have me, love.” He runs his nose over hers. “Never letting go.”

With the news of the baby, Abby and Frank decided not to wait on the adoption. Andy flew in to file the paperwork and stayed to catch a game. He entered the suite that Frank had reserved. “He didn’t have to do all of this,” gesturing to the catering and the snacks inside of the suite. It had a glass window that opened to two rows of seats outside.

Abby smiled. “It's mostly for Nugget. First time we brought her back to a game, she freaked. Wouldn’t go anywhere without me holding her hand. This is easier. We have a dedicated security guard, and they bring the treats to her.”

“Poor Nugget.” Andy shook his head. “That fucker messed with her head. I wish we had a lead on him.”

“Has Diskant contacted you?” Abby’s eyes had worry and apprehension in them.

“No, but he is still waiting to hear when you are going back east. Is that really the smartest idea?”

“I have to, Andy. I need to get this over with so I can start moving my family forward.”

“If you insist on it, then please allow me to go with you.”

“Andy, I don’t...”

“Look, you will be talking to the person who attacked you. You need to have counsel present to at least make sure nothing incriminating is said.”

“Antonio said he would come with me.”

“That’s fine but really Abby, be smart about this. I know you want to help her because she is your friend but there are criminal charges pending and those have to be the priority to protect your family.”

Abby sat back quietly, contemplating his words when the batter from the Padres sent a fly ball up. She watched her man spot it and make the easy grab. She clapped with the other fans.

“He’s looking good this year.”

“They’re just two out of the wildcard.”

“Think they got it?”

Abby looked back at the field. “I know they got it.”

After the game, the group headed out to dinner to celebrate. As they were ordering, Andy stepped away to take a call.

“Hey Dad,” Mary called out, chewing on a breadstick.

“Eat then speak Nugget,” Frank chastised.

She swallowed, “do you know if you’ll be able to take me for the first day of school?”

Frank looked confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged. “We’ve been busy.”

“You know I don’t miss things on purpose Mary. But I already checked, and I’ll be home.”

“Good, because no one will believe me that you’re my dad.” Mary shoved more breadstick in her mouth as Frank realized what she was calling him. Dad. He reveled in that feeling for a moment before he spotting Andy coming in, a solemn look on his face.

“Andy? Are you ok?”

“Can I talk to you and Abby?”

“Sure. Cricket, come here a sec?” Frank waited until Abby was next to him and took her hand. They walked away from the table. Scott gave Frank a knowing look and kept Mary distracted. “What's going on?”

“I just got off the phone with San Francisco PD and Detective Diskant. Mike has been arrested in San Francisco. He was caught with a prostitute and being charged with solicitation and possession.”

“Holy shit!” Frank said. “Wait, you said Diskant was on the call?”

“Yeah, apparently this all happened a few days ago and San Francisco and Boston have been talking. They just confirmed the transfer to Boston so he can be arraigned on the kidnapping charges.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Abby squeezed Frank’s hand a little harder. She studied Andy. “What’s wrong?

Andy swipes hand over his mouth grimacing. “They submitted DNA to the system.”

“Ok,” Frank said slowly.

“Frank, we had submitted Mary’s DNA when she was taken. Remember, they took hair, for the worst case scenario. Thank God they never had to use it but she’s still in the system.”

“Wait, if her DNA is in the system and he is submitting DNA... oh God.” Abby clasps a hand over her mouth. "Will he get the results? Will we?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what that will do to the adoption.”

Abby took her seat next to Andy. “You ok Abby?”

"Flying to face my attacker. I’m great,” she replied.

Andy took her hand. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Nausea took over midway through the flight and Abby raced into the bathroom. When she emerged, Andy handed her a bottle of water. “You ok?”

“I’m fine. Just a little air sick.” She put her hand unconsciously over her stomach.

Andy smiled. “Right. Air sick.” He looked back at his phone. “So how far along are you?”

Abby choked on her water. “Excuse me?”

“When Laurie was pregnant with Jacob, she was “air sick” for a couple of months until her second trimester.” He smiled at Abby. “Congratulations.”

Abby smiled. “Thank you. We’re about eight weeks along. We just had the confirmation appointment.”

“How’s Frank?”

“He’s so happy Andy. Really excited. Had to bride him to keep his mouth such and not tell anyone. We were waiting for week 13 to tell everyone.”

“Sorry to spoil your surprise. But I’ve flown with you before and you’ve never been sick.”

“Fuck me,” Abby said leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “This kid will be the death of me if I have to keep throwing up. Morning sickness my ass. More like all day sickness.”

Andy chuckled as he returned to his phone.

Once they landed, Abby headed straight into the arms of her father. “Hi Papi.”

“Hi mija. You look tired.”

“I am. Frank hasn’t been able to relax since we got the news about Mike.”

Her father swore. “Puta madre. He should be rotting right now for touching my granddaughter.” William shook his head. “He was a bad egg in school and he’s worse now.”

“I know Papa. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you Abigail. He had everyone fooled.” William went quiet for a moment. “How is my son-in-law and my granddaughter?”

“They’re good. Mary starts school next week. Fifth grade.” She sighed. “They moved her up a grade.”

“Wow, my little genius. Think the Dodgers have a chance at the playoffs?”

“I think so. But you know Frank. Ever the pessimist.” She rolled her eyes at the thought.

William chuckled and pulled up to her childhood. Her mother was there to greet her with a hug and dinner. She called Frank and let him know everything was ok, a touch of sickness on the plane. “I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I know Cricket but when I’m home you’re supposed to be here.” Frank pouted and gave her big puppy eyes.

“Baby, c’mon,” Abby whined. "It’s two nights."

“And you’re pregnant Abigail. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“And you are baby. I love you.”

She listened to him sigh. “I love you. Please be careful Cricket. It's not just you anymore.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Morning came and with it found Antonio driving his little sister towards Boston Metro. “Are you nervous princessa?”

“Kind of. I just don’t know what to say to her. She was my best friend for so long.”

“Just remember that she is sick and needs help. But making excuses her does not help her.”

“You sound like Andy.”

“Smart man.”

Andy met them at the front door and signed them in. “Tony, you have to remain silent because anything you say could potentially be used against your sister.” Antonio nodded. “Ready Abby?”

She nodded. She followed Andy into an observation room where Diane was seated. She perked up as soon as she saw Abby.

“Hello Diane.”

Frank was seated, nervous and angry. He felt uncomfortable being away from his girls. But Scott and Marco had Mary and Andy and Antonio had Abby. He took a breath before he noticed the figure that was placed and seated in front of him. Thick glass sat between them, probably the only thing saving him from the beating that Frank was ready to deliver. Frank picked up the phone and waited for the other end to be picked up.

“Hello Mike.”

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#andy's hea #andy's shenanigans #chris evans fanfiction #frank adler #frank adler au #mlb au #dodger au #ofc abigail hernandez #sliding into home #chris evans #mike weiss #johnny storm #baseball au #frank adler smut #slow burn #chris evans au #cliffhanger queen

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 years

Text

sneaky

Summary: Your best friend is getting married. And Frank, her father, can’t keep his hands off of you for the entire day.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 2.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: age gap (legal), established (secret) relationship, jealousy, sneaking around, smut (unprotected sex), Public sex, fluff

Masterlist

You smiled when you felt lips on your shoulder, looking at Frank in the mirror you were standing in front.

He was wearing the suit you had helped him buy. Dark dress pants, crisp white dress shirt, still unbuttoned. No tie.

“You look beautiful,” he hummed, kissing your shoulder again as you put the finishing touches to your make up.

You were late.

Very very late.

Which was completely Frank’s fault.

Well… Maybe you shouldn’t have spent last night here and slept in your bed for a change. Not that you did sleep very often in it.

It was your best friend's wedding day.

Frank’s daughter's wedding day.

You and Lana had known each other since kindergarten. Four year old Lana had punched Jeremy Clark into his nose because he had taken your colouring book from you and made you cry.

It was that day that you saw Frank, back then it was Mr. Castle to you, for the first time.

You remember being scared of him at first. He was tall and his voice was deep and loud and you had hidden behind your mothers legs when he introduced himself.

You definitely weren’t scared of him anymore.

When Lana had gone to college and you had to move out of your parents place because they were getting a divorce and had sold the house Frank had offered you to move into Lana’s room while you searched for something on your own.

Your mom had moved to another state for a new job and your father had moved to another country, leaving you with the choice of where to go.

You would be lying if you were saying you did not have a crush on Frank Castle growing up.

You spent more summers in his house than at your own, even more so after Frank got divorced and Lana chose to stay with him.

Both you and Frank hadn’t seen it coming.

That you would fall in love with each other.

He was everything you could have ever dreamed of. So much so that you both decided after almost two years of sneaking around it was time to tell people.

But first you had to make it though your best friend's wedding.

She had met Kevin in college, fallen head over heels for him. Even Frank, much to his disappointment, couldn’t find anything wrong with the guy which is why he couldn’t even say no when he asked for his baby daughter's hand.

Now Lana was 22 and about to be married.

And Frank was happy, he really was. But he had told you that it was hard to think of his daughter as married.

“Will you come home with me tonight?” he asked and looked at you.

“I live at your place, baby,” you smiled.

“Not all the time. You left me to go to college. Everyone leaves me,” he whined dramatically and you rolled your eyes before you got up from your chair and crossed your arms behind his neck, smiling softly up at him.

“Not gonna leave you ever, Frank Castle,” you vowed and he gave you a shy smile before he crossed the distance and kissed you softly.

You sighed against his lips, your fingers playing with his hair.

“I gotta go,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I know,” he kissed your nose.

“Can’t wait to strip you out of this dress tonight,” he whispered against your ear, giving you a slap on your ass, as you groaned.

“You’re the worst, Castle,” you pouted and he pecked your lips again.

“But you love me anyway.”

As the maid of honour you were standing next to your best friend when she married the love of her life. You were in tears, holding on to her flower bouquet as they vowed to love each other forever.

You glanced at Franke, sitting in the front row next to his ex wife as he looked torn between happy and sad.

He gave you a small smile which you returned before you looked away again.

Weddings were not something you ever thought about.

You never saw yourself getting married. Of course you were still pretty young. 23 years younger than the man you were in love with.

Would Frank want to get married?

That would make you…. Your best friend's stepmother. You grinned to yourself just when applause erupted around you, your best friend now officially married.

You gave her the flower bouquet back, before they kissed again and then made their way down the aisle. You looked after them before you stepped forward, your hand resting on Alex’, the best man, elbow as you followed them shortly after.

“You know what they say about maid of honour and best men, huh?” he whispered against your ear and you looked displeased at him.

“Really? You’re going with that?” you asked with a raised eyebrow after you parted from him. You caught Frank coming down the aisle, giving you a questioning look.

“Lana told me you were single. Thought I’ll shoot my shot,” Alex shrugged.

“Well. I’m not single, so consider your shot blocked,” you smiled before you walked towards Frank.

“You okay, honeybee?” he asked when no one was close and you nodded.

“Lana apparently wanted to set me up with the best man,” you sighed.

You were walking side by side up the hill, the wedding ceremony had been close to the lake of the hotel Lana had chosen as the location.

Frank looked at you and you fought the urge to let your head fall against his shoulder, and your hand taking his. You were tired of hiding this.

Of course you ran the risk of losing your best friend once you came clear but you had the feeling that she would be okay with it in the end.

“That’s… nice of her,” Frank said and you looked up at him suspicious. His nostrils were flared and he was moving his jaw. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you jealous, Mr. Castle?” you asked sweetly and heard him breathe in deeply. He looked around before he pulled you towards a line of trees, away from the crowd, taking your hand when you were out of view and pushing you against one.

“I don’t like other people touching what’s mine,” he hummed, his nose brushing against your cheek before he kissed you. You pulled him closer, your hands in his hair as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands pushing your skirt up until his big hand was squeezing your ass.

“I’m not jealous,” he hummed in between kisses. “I came inside of you four hours ago, I’m pretty damn sure you’re mine,” he sucked on your bottom lip as you moaned quietly.

“Why does you saying stuff like that make me so fucking horny?” you giggled against his lips and he let his head fall against your forehead.

“You’re always horny,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Not horny enough to let you fuck me against this tree out in the open before the reception of your daughters wedding,” you said and he sighed. You smiled, your hand running down to rest on his chest.

“Maybe after the reception?” he asked and you punched against his chest making him laugh.

“Just the Father of the bride and the bride now,” the photographer said and you stepped away, stopped from leaving by your best friend holding you back.

“I want a couple of the three of us. We basically spent our whole life together in my Dad’s house,” Lana grinned and you smiled at her. Frank approached you, his sunglasses resting on his nose, a big smile on his face.

“Get in the middle Dad and take those glasses off,” Lana instructed and Frank did you, wrapping his arm around her first and then around you, looking down at you with a soft smile you mirrored before you looked towards the camera.

It must have only been a split second but neither of you knew then that it was enough for the photographer to shoot a picture that would end up framed on his bedside table.

You knew Frank was an attractive man.

But you were unused to seeing him all cleaned up and in a suit.

It was doing things to you and more than once he caught you looking at him, giving you a knowing look before you looked away again.

It was after dinner, the sun already setting that Frank found you again, pulling you back outside and leading you back down towards the treeline from earlier. He squeezed your hand, walking farther until you almost couldn’t hear the noise of the many guests of the wedding.

You were about to ask where he was taking you when he pulled you against him so he could kiss you.

Smiling against his lips you crossed your arms behind his neck, letting him walk you backwards until your back was leaning against a big tree.

“Can’t wait until we’re back home,” he mumbled, his fingers finding your panties under your dress, pulling them down your legs. He pulled them into his pocket before his hand was cupping your cunt, finding your soaked.

“Honeybee I wanted to give you my fingers, but I don’t think you need them, huh?” he grinned, kissing you again. You shook your head.

“Just fuck me baby. Please I need you,” you whimpered and he chuckled.

“Already begging for me. My honeybee,” you helped him with his belt, pulling at the zipper of his pants until you wrapped your hand around his cock and he groaned.

“Turn around,” he said and you let go of him, turning around, resting your hands against the tree. He pushed your dress up, taking a step closer, his hands on your hips and his cock rubbing against your pussy.

He groaned.

“Always so fucking wet for me,” he praised an you bit your lip, one of his hands leaving your hips. You looked over your shoulder, seeing him spit down on his cock, pumping it a couple times until he lined himself up and slowly entered you. You sighed, letting your head fall down.

No matter how often he fucked you, it was always a stretch.

A delicous fucking pleasurable stretch you were addicted to.

You both moaned quietly when his whole length was inside of you.

“Frank please. We gotta be quick, people will notice…. Fuck,” he thrusted hard. Just once and you felt all air leave your lungs.

“Can you keep quiet for me?” he asked, beginning to fuck into you from behind, both hands groping your hips.

“Baby…” you whimpered, and he slapped your ass, making you cry out.

His hands left your hips and he pushed you closer against the tree, one of his hands over your still covered tits, his other hand coming down beneath yours on the tree.

He thrusted faster, harder, your head falling back against his shoulder as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud, definitely failing as his hand wrapped over your mouth.

“Want you to scream my name when you cum on my cock,” he snarled against your ear, kissing your temple before he picked up the pace. You felt his other hand run down your body, until his fingers rubbed over your clit.

“You gotta cum honeybee. I’m so fucking close…” he put two of his fingers inside your mouth and you sucked them, moaning around them.

You had trouble keeping yourself upwards, your orgasm quickly approaching.

“Cum. Now,” he hissed against your ear, slapping your clit once, twice…. And you came with a cry the third time, your arms against the tree shaking as he fucked you through it.

“Yes… Fuck yes. Just like that. Squeezing my fucking cock… Shit…” he groaned and you felt him pulse inside of you as he came, pumping you full of his cum.

You took deep breaths, trying to get back to this planet as he kissed your shoulder. You turned around, finding his lips in a soft kiss.

“Come one, we gotta dance,” he said and you rolled your eyes with a small laugh.

“How do you expect me to walk after you fucked me like that?”

Slowly.

Was the answer to that. You walked slowly back up the tree line, his hand in yours until you were too close to the party.

Your heart ached and you could see in his face that he wasn’t liking it either, but it was only a little while. You decided to tell everyone after Lana’s honeymoon.

Ready for all consequences.

You were sitting at a table, an almost empty glass of champagne in front of you when he sat down next to you.

“Really Frank? Another piece of cake?” you laughed and he pushed it towards you.

“Gotta make sure you’re fed for what I’m planning with you later.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. He just winked at you. You shook your head with a laugh before you began to eat.

“You have the other cake?” you asked, he nodded.

“Want a taste?” he asked.

“Kinda, yeah,” you said, your fork already reaching over the table but he was holding his up for you to take.

“Open your mouth,” he said and you took a look around. You were still around a lot of people but everybody seemed to be occupied.

“Please,” he said and you smiled before you parted your lips and let him push the fork with the cake inside your mouth. You closed your lips, humming as the flavour exploded in your mouth.

“Good. That was pretty good,” you nodded and saw Frank sucking his bottom lip in as he looked at you, before he took a deep breath and shook his head.

You giggled, reaching for his hand under the table.

“I love you,” you whispered and he gave you one of those soft smiles you loved so much.

“I love you too.”

“Oh my god,” Lana huffed a laugh, now sitting beside you.

“What?” you asked, following her line of sight, seeing Frank on the dance floor. You chuckled.

He was really getting in there, his body moving as he danced with his ex wife.

“He looks happy. Happier,” Lana said and you smiled at her.

“Yeah. I think he does.”

“You do know I would never set you up with Alex, right?” she said and you looked at her confused.

“You wouldn’t?” you asked. She shook her head.

“Just wanted to see Dad’s reaction. And I was not let down,” she grinned and you looked at her with big eyes, a nervous flutter in your belly.

“You know?” you asked and she nodded.

“Wasn’t sure for a while but I saw you two kissing on the BBQ for your birthday last year?”

“Last year?” you asked, now completely flabbergasted and she giggled.

“Yeah. And you both look happy.”

“We wanted to tell you. After…”

But Lana just shook herhead, taking your hand.

“I understand why you didn’t. I wouldn’t know how to tell you I was in love with your father too,” she teased and you laughed.

You looked at Frank who was now dancing with one of the bridesmaids.

“Go and dance with him. I know you want to,” Lana said, squeezing your hand before she left to go to the dancefloor too, going to her husband.

You watched them dance for a moment, before you got up and walked over to find Frank.

“Mind if I cut in?” you asked the woman he was dancing with and she frowned before she shrugged and walked away.

“You really wanna dance with this old man?” Frank asked, his hands wrapping around yours as he made you twirl. You laughed, one of your hands resting on his shoulder after he twirled your back against him.

He looked down at you, his eyes searching yours when you didn’t move.

“Lana knows about us,” you whispered and his eyebrows raised.

“She’s known since my birthday last year,” you chuckled.

“Seriously?”

You nodded. You caught Lana’s eyes over his shoulder and he turned his head, looking at his daughter, who winked at him.

“Good,” he said and you frowned.

“Good?”

“Yeah. So now I can do this,” he hummed before he kissed you.

#my fic #frank castle #frank castle x fem reader #jon bernthal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #the punisher au

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