frvnkcastles
.｡.:*☆ minttu
she/her. 23. jon bernthal enthusiast with c-ptsd writing for the traumatized girlies <3
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EVERY NIGHT I BURN ➵ S. ROSSI
Summary: After a disastrous date with your high school crush, Sam is there to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: Borderline sexual assault, language, implied female reader, some descriptors
Word count: 5.6k (geez)
Author’s note: Making my comeback with a THREE year old fic that I was always too embarrassed to post anywhere for some reason. Anyway Sam is my favorite Jon character after Frank and I think about him on a regular basis :’) Sorry I’ve been so inactive lately, college is killing me!! Can’t wait to get back to writing during summer break.
”Hey, are you busy?”
Looking up from his bookkeeping, Sam lifted an eyebrow and tried his very best to maintain a stoic, neutral expression rather than breaking into the giddy smile he always felt coming on in your presence. Seeing you at the doorway of his office, dark hair flowing in the cool breeze and a gust of your perfume invading his space in the process, was nothing short of enchanting, making him clear his throat as he briefly glanced at where your skirt rested against your thighs and then back to the shiny eyes behind your glasses.
For you? Never. That’s what he wanted to say, anyway — that hell or high water, he’d make time for you. Instead, he lifted one hand to gesture at the empty office. ”Nah, somethin’ wrong?” he asked gruffly, yet the rough voice was nothing short of polite as he eyed you up and down as if to search for any signs of distress. The nervous wringing of your hands was the only clue he got, but he chalked it down to your typically shy — and endearing — personality with a soft, barely audible chuckle.
”No, no, not at all. I was just wondering if I could bother you with a favor? I got some shelves for the new house and uh, as much as I’d like to campaign for being a strong, independent woman... I do not know how to handle power tools”, you grimaced in a way that made Sam laugh fondly and glance at his boots before bringing his enamored gaze back up at you. ”Really, if you can’t, it’s—”, you began again before you could corner him into agreeing, but waving you off, he interrupted.
”Be my pleasure. Rather that than, uh, drive ya into the hospital after lettin’ you do it alone, right?” he spoke, cracking a joke that almost sounded strange coming from his quiet, level voice. Once the amusement in his tone registered in your head, though, you broke into a grin and nodded in agreement.
”Yeah, I’m a much better driver if you end up drilling a hole in your own finger”, you countered, only to realize the potentially offensive hint in your voice — at that, your smile faltered, but before you could do much more than open your mouth to explain you hadn’t meant to poke fun at his hands, he smiled at you.
”I gotchu, sweetheart. ’S all good”, he reassured before you could worry about hurting his feelings. There was a moment then, with you gazing into each other’s eyes, goofy smiles on your faces with no one needing to say anything.
Didn’t mean it stayed that way. With an excited cheer, your goddaughter was soon emerging through the entrance, disrupting the moment between you and Sam as she grabbed your shoulders. ”I thought that was you! Did you bring me lunch?” Maggie wondered with a grin, and laughing, you jutted your finger in your car’s direction, encouraging her to break free from the office with a delighted sprint again.
She was the reason you had come here, to begin with. You were a teacher and when a job opportunity near your favorite goddaughter had turned up, you took the chance to go back home and reunite with what little family you both had left. Within days, Sam had grown smitten with you — and Mags could tell; you, not so much. In his defense, how could he not? You were smart, caring, had the prettiest smile he had seen in years and there was no doubt about your kind heart. The way you treated Mags, him, and anyone you came across made his own heart swell. You were damn beautiful, too.
Now, nearly a month into your stay, you had formed new habits and routines, including stopping by the motel to get lunch to Mags. Sam had insisted that he’d feed the girl if you just let him, but frankly, your visits had an ulterior motive now — see, you really liked him, too. Again, how could you not? He was everything you loved in a man and whatever chance you got to spend more time with him, you leaped at.
Hence why you had insisted the furniture shop didn’t need to come over and install the shelves for you; you had a guy for that.
Before you could say anything more, the rev of an engine got your attention and both you and Sam turned your heads to the motel’s parking lot only to see an old but well-kept, stylish car pull up with no regard to the actual parking spots. You would have recognized the car and its white stripes from a mile away, pulling a surprised gasp from you — the same, joyous reaction was far from Maggie’s face as she traipsed back to the office with a glare at the car she had seen enough times not to trust its owner.
”Oh my Gosh, what are you doing here?” you gushed as you stepped back out into the warm spring air, your hand on your chest as you watched the tall, lanky guy step out of the car while unfolding his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt. Sam certainly didn’t miss the amazed tone in your voice, nor the hand placed on your arm as the stylish guy eyed you up and down.
”Heard you were back in town, I just had to see it for myself”, the guy grinned at you, and even from behind his desk, Sam could see the blush on your cheeks.
Trying his best to tune out the rest of the conversation, he clenched his jaw as he looked down at the papers still waiting for his scrutinizing. His focus was everywhere else, though, and suspecting as much, Maggie leaned her elbows on the counter to share her gossip with Sam with her stare still trained on you.
”That’s Benny. Complete jerk, if you ask me. They almost dated in high school but he’s always just been stringing her along”, Mags dished casually, and with an incredulous snort, Sam looked up with doubt in his dark eyes.
”That guy?” he confirmed, struggling to imagine a world where anyone would be out of your league. You were a gem; a whole treasure and he would have never made you feel like anything else.
Nodding, Mags glanced at Sam with a hopeful smile. ”He doesn’t deserve her. Maybe if someone nice actually asked her out for once”, she theorized, far from sneaky, but before Sam could scold her for her taunting tone, she continued. ”Until then, she’s just gonna let him play with her feelings because every time she thinks it might work out.”
With a frown, Sam looked over to the parking lot where you were, indeed, fawning over the man, lovesick grin and all. It was in that moment that his jealousy got beaten by his anger — not towards you, but towards the man for toying with your heart.
That said, he would have lied if something envious didn’t brew in the pit of his stomach when he watched you touch his chest and lean into him, laughing at his jokes.
———————
”Nervous?” Sam rasped from where he was hoisted on one of your chairs, arm leaning against the wall while glancing between you and the drill he was setting up. Maybe it was the date, maybe it was the sight of him rolling up his sleeves and hiking up his tight jeans that made you gulp, but either way, you ended up nodding. When he effortlessly grabbed the shelf off the table with one hand and balanced it against the wall in a way that made practically every muscle in his body flex against his clothes, you had to look away.
”A little”, you admitted with a dry throat, fiddling with the sleeves of your dress as you wandered back and forth in the small living room just to channel the anxious energy somewhere. ”Not to sound like a schoolgirl, but— he’s so cool”, you breathed out, an embarrassed chuckle accompanying your words as you checked the time on your phone again and then turned back to Sam who had paused his work and was looking at you with a lifted eyebrow.
He seemed to weigh his options for a beat, wonder what was the right thing to say when eventually he sucked in a breath and turned back to the shelf with the drill hoisted at the right position. ”Ain’t no one cooler than you”, he pointed casually before activating the drill and getting the nail through the wood effortlessly. ”You got that?” he emphasized when silence landed in the room again, his words demanding but his voice soft when he eyed you briefly. ”You’re a real gem, sweetheart. You deserve to be treated like one”, he added before adding in the second nail and then the third, giving you the chance to collect your thoughts while he worked.
Suddenly feeling the tension in the air, you chuckled quietly. ”Did Maggie say something?” you wondered, well-aware of how little she liked the man you had been drooling over for the past decade and more.
With a quiet laugh, Sam reached for the final nail. ”Maybe”, he confirmed, not getting to say much more when the tremble of his fingers betrayed him and the nail flew to the floor with a clatter. As he cursed, you jumped into motion, not allowing him the chance to climb down when you were already crouching down to pick up the nail from the floor in a way that had your skirt hiking up your thighs.
When you stood back up to hand it over, Sam was staring at you in quiet amazement, and softly, you smiled at him. ”Well, thank you”, you whispered, still thinking about his previous words as you stepped back to let him finish without you in his way — he, in response, felt his heart swing at the loss of your warmth and perfume in his face. ”I appreciate all of this”, you gestured at him with a grin, ”but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
With a nod, Sam gave you one more look, one that he was forced to tear away when the honk of a car filled your driveway with sound. He couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at your adorable gasp, and any idea of saying goodbye left his brain when you reached forward to briefly peck his cheek, your soft lips tickled by the coarse hairs of his dark beard as you bid him farewell.
”I’ll make this up to you!” you promised with a smile, and chuckling, Sam ducked his head down and willed himself to not blush.
You already had.
—————
Ever the gentleman, Sam had decided to wait at your house for you to return from your date — partly to make sure you were safe, partly to see your excited smile when you’d burst through the door in an enthusiastic ramble of how it had gone. That was how he played it out in his head, anyway, giddy at the idea of your happiness even if it meant from another man. With your shelves up and installed, there was not much to do but linger around; even with the TV on, though, he found it hard to focus.
The entire house felt like you. Like one big comforting hug, one that you could never quite fit his large figure into but you always tried as hard as you could. You were sweet like that. As was the ghost of your perfume haunting the living room where Sam was seated, unable to think about anything but what kind of movie you’d choose to put on if you were there with him. One of the armchairs next to the couch he was on had some of your dresses draped over it — the rejected pile, he assumed, but the different colors and soft materials made his stomach swing when he imagined the edge of the skirt falling above your knees, the flowery sleeves a stark contrast to your dainty hands.
At that thought, he cleared his throat and got up from
the couch with unwillingness to stay there and obsess over you all night. He had already grabbed some water from the kitchen only to think about the baked goods you brought to the motel every now and then, the image of your warmth mixing in with the soft music you had mentioned liking while stirring a bowl of batter refusing to leave his head. And as he passed by the foyer on his way out, he noted your shoes, all in different styles yet somehow so you, and the large mirror where his smitten reflection was adorned by a colorful sticky note wishing a lovely day. With a smiley face and all.
He made his way to the local diner, then, figuring he could kill some time by grabbing some shakes and fries for when you’d get home. By the time he considered you already having dinner with your date, it was too late and he found himself striding up to the counter where he hoped the kind lady wouldn’t notice the red on his cheeks and the extra tremble in his fingers.
He had hardly limped his way over, though, when the lady he was quite familiar with gave him a sympathetic smile. A frown barely crossed Sam’s face when she pointed a finger across the diner, and when the tall man faced the right direction, he found you sitting in the furthest booth, drenched from the rain that had just stopped on his way over, hands shaky and cheeks stained with the make-up you had spent so much time on. An untouched cup of coffee sat in front of you, and it seemed like you had no intentions of moving anywhere.
Sam, on the other hand, abandoned his initial plan immediately and with a slight swing from side to side, stomped his way over to you. The heavy falls of his boots caught your attention quickly, and meekly, you looked up only to somehow feel worse at the worried pair of eyes you found staring back at you, concerned creases painted across Sam’s forehead as he fiddled with his fingers. He could see the slight disappointment on your face, but before he could take it personally, you were sighing weakly.
”This is so embarrassing”, you whispered, soon enough breaking into a sob as you covered your face with your hands and leaned towards the table. Without a second’s hesitance, Sam sat by your side, and when you moved to give him space next to you, he took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your shoulders and hold you close.
”Shh, shh, no, it ain’t. It ain’t. Promise, ’m not here to judge. Alright? Don’t even gotta tell me what happened if ya don’t wanna”, he assured, his rough voice so soft as he rubbed your arm soothingly and placed his head against yours. A mere second later, he was taking in your appearance, from the drenched hair to the mud on your knees, and with a regretful inhale, he walked back on his previous word with a gentle tone. ”Tell me if you’re hurt, though. Please, sweetheart”, he was quiet and respectful, and with the nickname welcoming something warm in your heart, you shook your head.
”Not hurt”, you confirmed, and although the faintness of your voice did little to comfort Sam, he nodded approvingly at the promise. When you said nothing more, he simply held you in his arms, caressing you softly and humming in your ear without empty vows of things going to be okay and you going to be alright. Right now, all he could offer was his presence and attention.
Somehow, that was enough. Your breathing leveled and your heart didn’t feel like it was going to jump out of your chest anymore, but rather, feeling the beat of Sam’s helped in grounding you. He was warm and comforting and for a moment, you forgot where you even were.
”That’s it”, he encouraged quietly when you grew more stable in his embrace, ”attagirl. I’m right here with you, darlin’.” Feeling you relax helped him relax, too, his fear slowly dismantling and his feeling of utter helplessness subsiding.
”You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked gently, never pushing, only giving you the chance to share if you felt like it. At first, you truly hadn’t, but now, with his care so thick in the air, you felt entirely safe telling him.
”You gonna tell me you told me so?” you asked, half-joking, and it earned a quiet snort from Sam before he pressed a tender kiss on the top of your head.
”Never.”
That was all the encouragement you needed, and with a deep sigh, you recalled the past two hours of your life. ”He took me to a drive-in”, you swallowed, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the memory. ”It was nice, actually Fun. Nostalgic. Then, he, uh, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. But then I—I tried to pull away and he—”, you continued, your voice breaking as you covered your mouth with your hand and exhaled.
”He wouldn’t stop. His hands were everywhere. So I—I somehow managed to get out of the car and I just… ran. I ran. I knew the diner was close by so I headed over here but it started raining and I fell so it took me a while but I just couldn’t go back”, you continued before gesturing at your ripped stockings and then leaning into Sam’s chest with your eyes sealed shut. ”I was so stupid. I should have listened to you and Maggie.”
Silence landed again, apart from the sounds around you and your soft sniffles. It was Sam, then, who was silent — his nostrils flaring and his heart pounding in his chest as he imagined the Hell you had been through. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but he sure as hell stood up to assholes like some of the men at his motel and this… this sad excuse of a human being who had had the chance of a lifetime with you. A chance that Sam would never waste for anything in the world.
”It ain’t your fault”, he finally rasped, trying to swallow down his anger even if the tick of his jaw betrayed him. He was glad you were huddled up against his chest, shielding you from seeing the fury in his narrowed eyes as he stared out of the rainy window and clenched his jaw. ”None of it. You did good, sweetheart. You did so good”, he continued, losing some of his temper as he wrapped both arms around your trembling body. ”You were real fuckin’ brave, ya hear me? Did nothin’ wrong. That guy is a piece of shit, you understand?”
You managed a nod before Sam continued. ”You deserve the world. I’m so sorry that happened. I ’preciate you sharin’”, he sighed, not even sure what more to say. He felt like he was going to be sick, though he doubted it was nowhere near to how you were feeling.
As if on cue, you shivered again, and he withdrew from you just enough to look at your drenched body. ”Listen, sweetheart, you’re freezin’. Okay if I drive ya home?” he offered, and unsure what other option you had, you simply pleaded yes to his proposal. Even if there had been an alternative, he was what you wanted — his safety, his reassurance, his guidance.
You just did not realize that he had sworn all of that since day one.
As you sat in his passenger seat, shaking from the cold as well as the adrenaline, Sam made sure to hold your smaller hand in his large, warm one, all the while cranking up the heat in the truck. It was silent for the most part, and when tears fell from your eyes only for you to hastily wipe them away, he said nothing, simply brushed his thumb across your hand and let you be. There was no judgment in the air, and even with your torn appearance, he didn’t stare, only glanced at you to make sure you were alright, eyes full of care and the wish that there was more he could have done for you.
When the truck was parked in your driveway, Sam was quick to leap out of his seat and circle the car to open the door for you and help you out of the fickle seatbelt. You didn’t hesitate to cling onto him, allowing him to guide you inside to the safety of your home where you toed off your shoes and let him hang up your jacket.
”You go get changed, alright? I’ll make you some tea”, Sam whispered, gentle as he brushed a hand across your hair and took a step away to allow you your space. The hesitation in your eyes suggested you weren’t quite ready to leave his side, but certain that getting dressed on your own was the best idea, you nodded and hid into the bedroom while he wandered to the kitchen.
It didn’t go unnoticed by either of you how naturally he blended into your life. Having him around the house felt like the most natural thing, and he breathed easy while getting out your kettle and pouring the boiled water into one of your big mugs. Well-aware just how much sugar and honey you liked in your tea, preparing the drink for you was like second-nature, like he had spent years with this routine, attached to you so tightly he didn’t even question it.
When you shyly snuck out of the bedroom, dressed in tights and a large, grey sweater, he was seated in your living room with his hands nervously wringing with one another. It made you want to laugh, how both of you were so on edge, but when you saw his eyes light up at the sight of you, as well as the steaming tea he had made just for you, and the shelves perfectly balanced on the wall behind him, you burst into tears, instead.
”The shelves look so nice”, you cried with a laugh, trying to wipe at your eyes while sniffling and taking a seat next to Sam. ”You’ve done so much for me”, you whispered, amazed by the kindness of his heart, but he was quick to protest with a quiet chuckle.
”’S just basic decency”, he countered quietly before observing you carefully. The scratches on your palms and wrists made him swallow and look away, but he gently knocked his knee into yours to promise he was right there as long as you wanted it. ”Whatever you need, alright? Just say the word.”
Carefully, you took a sip from the tea and then glanced at Sam. ”Is it weird if I ask you to stay?” you questioned weakly, and with an exhale, Sam wanted to promise you that he could have never said no to you. Instead, he gave you a shake of his head and offered a hand for you to take.
”I’ll be right here”, he swore. And true to his words, he stayed all night, making you a second cup of tea, helping you brush through the knots of your hair, sanitizing the scratches on your hands, messaging Maggie that you were home safe. He wiped your tears, hugged you tight, rubbed your back and kissed your forehead. And at the end of it all, he let you fall asleep on him on the couch, your head on his lap and his trembling fingers caressing your hair until you were soundly asleep.
And all he could think about was how he wouldn’t have minded watching over you every single day.
——————
The following day, Sam made sure to wake you up before leaving, breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen once he had apologized for slipping away so soon — however, you understood that he had a whole motel to run; not to mention, he had already done so much for you. As much was obvious when you sat in the kitchen by yourself, munching on the eggs and toast he had prepared, surprising yourself with the soft smile that crossed your lips at the thought of his kindness.
Sam, on the other hand, didn’t find himself smiling much at work. Mags was yet to clock in, and he was grateful — not wanting to reveal what had happened without your permission, but knowing that the girl would see right through his bullshit. The other personnel, however, had already asked if everything was okay.
And for the most part, it was. You seemed to be doing okay when he had left you, and he was glad to have been of any consolation. Nevertheless, he was so, so full of anger that it had even happened in the first place. And the fact that he had been right there, with the opportunity to stop you, not once but twice, yet he hadn’t. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he needed to channel the fury in his chest somewhere — why not himself?
That was what he figured until a familiar, sleek car was cruising onto the lot, parked like an asshole yet again. At the sight of Benny’s presumptuous face, Sam dropped the pen in his hand and swallowed thickly, his feet moving on instinct to stop the man from entering his premises. Suddenly blessed with a new target for his anger, Sam strode straight towards, a twinge of delight poking at his heart when he saw the scratches matching your nails on his jaw.
”Hey, is she around—”, Benny started, but that was all he got to utter out when Sam was punching him across the face, the crack of his nose most pleasing to the man’s ears as he watched the other man go down from the weight of his fist. Blood went flying across the concrete and despite the throbbing through his knuckles, Sam didn’t stand down from staring at the man at his feet now.
”You ain’t welcome here, you hear me? I never wanna see your stupid fuckin’ face again. Neither does she. You go anywhere near her, you’ll regret it”, Sam gritted out, his rough voice heavy as he glared at Benny who, in a flurry of panic, scrambled up to his feet and towards his car.
”You’re a piece of shit”, Sam added with a stern finger pointed at him, ”and you don’t deserve her. Fuck you.”
——————
Although the initial idea of being around people seemed exhausting, you were happy to get a visit from Mags. She pulled you into a hug out of instinct, but you had longed for the comforting embrace all day, therefore forcing her to stay in it a little bit longer. You supposed, then, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the question she broke the silence with once you finally pulled away and welcomed her inside.
”How was your date?” she inquired carefully, not missing the scratches on you but choosing not to blatantly point them out. Nevertheless, she radiated sympathy and you knew you could trust her — that said, you didn’t quite like the idea of burdening her with what had happened. You weren’t best friends gossiping, you were the closest thing she had to a guardian, and while communication was key, there were some things you weren’t meant to unload onto her.
”I don’t think there will be another one”, you stated simply with a quiet smile, and nodding thoughtfully, Mags followed you into the kitchen where you had been stress-baking all day. She, at least, was happy to grab one of your tasty brownies, and you hoped that Sam would appreciate the pie you had made just for him as a thank you for everything.
As if on cue, Mags hummed from the table she sat herself at while you continued slicing the brownies. ”So, uh, wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact I saw Sam
with bruised knuckles, would it?” she asked innocently, the obvious tension in your shoulders encouraging her to add, ”looked like someone got a taste of them, actually.”
Putting down the knife, you blinked at the wall in front of you and then turned to Maggie. ”Really?” you whispered, full of disbelief and amazement that Sam would do such a thing. He wasn’t usually a man of violence, so you struggled to come up with another explanation than him confronting Benny. And against all odds, the thought almost put a smile to your face — your asshole date had certainly earned it, but Sam doing that for you…
Well, you definitely hadn’t expected your heart to flip so violently at that.
”Uh huh”, Mags drawled before eyeing you with a grin. ”You like him, don’t you?”
You immediately reacted with a bashful chuckle and turned back to the brownies. You had thought about it before. Many times, in fact. He was handsome and kind and naturally loving, and despite his brooding, tall appearance, he was shy and gentle. He was good with kids and animals alike, and he made sure to make everyone feel welcome. But he was also so, so very easy on the eyes. And after last night… you had a whole new appreciation for the man and his good heart.
So, yeah. Maybe you did. You had just never been bold enough to take the leap and ask him out — he was, indeed, quiet and a little bit reclusive, making it hard to tell if he liked you or was just being polite. And frankly, you didn’t want to set fire to the friendship you had built with him.
Going out with Benny had seemed like such a good idea to find some company that wasn’t Sam, but now, you couldn’t help but wonder if it only had been good for driving you right into his arms.
—————
Sam was surprised to see you arrive at the motel — but positively so. When Mags stepped out of your car though, he guessed it was simply to drop her off, but he was quickly proven otherwise when you followed her lead with a pie in your hands. You were dressed in a worn pair of overalls and Sam couldn’t stop the somersault in his chest as he limped from behind the front desk to the parking lot, giving Mags a brief squeeze on the arm as she passed him by.
”It’s good to see you”, Sam breathed out as he nodded and observed you from head to toe briefly, ”you look damn nice.”
With heat already crawling to your cheeks, you ducked your head down only to catch a glimpse of his red knuckles in the process. You licked your lips tentatively and gave him a shy look. ”Your, uh, hand… Was that…”, you began, not really sure how to finish that thought.
…You decking Benny in the face for my sake?
”Yeah”, Sam rasped with a clear of his throat, ”yeah, he, uh… came lookin’ for you. Told him you ain’t interested.” For a moment there, he seemed almost embarrassed, his other hand going over the scabbed one to rub it nervously, but as soon as you broke into a careful smile, the worries in his heart evaporated.
”I appreciate that. I appreciate you”, you emphasized before handing over the pie. ”Pretty sure I owe you a dozen of these, but… I thought I’d start with just one. I don’t know how to thank you enough, Sam. You’re my hero, I guess”, you explained with a chuckle, your gaze falling to your boots before you looked back up at him only to find him shaking his head in a way that left his unruly curls bouncing.
”Nah, you don’t… you don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. ’M just glad you’re alright”, he promised while clutching the pie and pursing his lips as if there was something else to say.
You had something else to say, too. And for a second, you wondered if it was wise to speak out loud, but then you saw Mags and her vigorously encouraging gestures from inside the office, and then you faced Sam again and he just looked so beautiful and soft and—
”Would you wanna go on a date?”
Much to your surprise, your own words echoed back to you in his deep voice, your eyes flying wide when you realized he had posed you the very same question. A mere second later, you broke into a genuine laugh, and Sam’s lips curved upwards into a giddy smile as he nodded at you.
”We could start with this pie”, he offered with a chuckle, and with an agreeing smile, you returned his nod. Shakily, he lifted his hand for you to take, and you did not hesitate to wrap your fingers around his trembling ones so he could lead you indoors where Mags was cheering by herself.
Needless to say, your poor date was soon forgotten by an absolutely delightful one — especially when they did not stop coming, and within the next month, you found yourself being called Sam’s girlfriend.
He, for one, couldn’t recall the last time he had been so happy. Getting to leave his shoes next to yours in the foyer, getting to bring you tea to bed in the morning, getting to finally kiss your pink lips with his beard scratching your soft skin… He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it all, but he certainly felt lucky as hell.
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hope everything is okay! haven’t heard from you in some time!
awww this is so sweet!! i’m still here, just really really busy with college right now. i’m doing teacher training and it’s hands down the busiest year i’ve had in all my 4 years of college. but the semester is almost over and i’m excited to get back to writing!! i do have one request about some hozier lyrics and frank which i’m excited to get to, but right now my energy is just going into all these damn essays. thanks for checking in <33
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hey !! i just wanted to tell you that i think your writings are amazing and, honestly, quite comforting. you always write frank so sweet and understanding, and it kinda makes me love him more than i already do, and sometimes they remind me that my trauma(s) won't stop me from being loved soo there's also that 👍
i guess i just wanted to tell that. i truly hope you're having a lovely day (or night!).
thank you so much you kind angel <33 i hope you have an awesome day too!! i appreciate you :)
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SET MY WORLD ON FIRE ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You struggle with sex because of pain but want to give it a try with Frank.
Warnings: Female reader, feminine nicknames, light smut
Word count: 1.6k
Author’s note: Soooo I’m back with another PTSD related fic. I rarely write smut anymore but I wanted to do something like this because surprise surprise, it’s something I deal with. I suffer from chronic pain called vulvodynia, which is kinda similar to vaginismus I guess, and it makes having sex very painful or even impossible. There isn’t a lot of information about it available but I’m pretty sure it can be connected to (C-)PTSD or trauma in general (also other anxiety disorders). And I just think Frank would be so understanding and a safe person to try new things with. That’s all, thank you for reading <3
Your breathing was heavy as you rested on your back, your eyes locked with Frank’s as he hovered above you on the bed, and your fingers running through the coarse hairs on the back of his head. The air was tense and there was a ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach, but deep down, you were excited, too. And most importantly, you trusted Frank. You knew that the moment would be over with your say-so, and he’d be off of your body within seconds, but so far, you were willing to push your limits.
”Gorgeous girl”, he muttered while caressing your cheek and traveling down to grip your jaw softly, just enough to tilt your head up so he could lean down to kiss your neck. His lips left a trail of goosebumps and you closed your eyes to fully revel in the feeling, your arms hanging around his neck and your legs around his hips.
His name escaped your lips and you could feel his mouth curling up into a smile against your skin. ”Yeah, sweetheart?” he rasped, lifting his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. He took in the sight of you, eyes squeezed shut and a mixture of pleasure and anxiety twisting your features. ”Hey, look at me”, he demanded gently, and licking your lips, you met his gaze only to feel even more vulnerable under the intensity of it.
”Y’know nothin’ happens without your permission, yeah? ’M just here to go at your pace. You got nothin’ to worry about, I promise”, he explained, tilting his head at you, and slowly, you managed a nod.
You had wanted this for a long time. You had wanted him for a long time. But no matter how strong that desire in you grew, you knew that your body wasn’t on the same page with you, that regardless of your feelings, it would hurt. And when you had told Frank as much, he had sworn to be gentle with you, to proceed as slowly as you needed him to, with promises of being honored you’d trust him with it.
”Breathe for me, pretty girl”, he encouraged, and swallowing, you inhaled deeply through your nose, and following his example, you exhaled through your mouth. ”There ya go”, he smiled at you before biting his lip and deciding to dip a toe in the waters. ”Can I touch you?”
Your breath got stuck in your throat, but once again, you nodded. ”Yes, please”, you requested quietly, and satisfied, Frank let his hands venture across your body. You were already reduced to just your underwear, making it easy for his thick fingers to graze against your skin and glide down between your legs. He was careful, but you still tensed up, and he could immediately tell. You stared at the ceiling and tried to keep your breathing balanced, but you were scared.
”Want me to stop?” Frank asked, but despite the fear bubbling in your chest, you immediately shook your head.
”I want to feel you”, you admitted, and chuckling softly, Frank nodded.
He tried his best to be gentle, but you still gasped sharply at the feeling of his finger prodding, and Frank’s chest ached at the idea of causing you any pain. Nevertheless, when you didn’t tell him to stop, he pushed further, and somewhere within his movements, the initial pain melted into a warm, pleasant feeling.
”This okay?” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses as he moved his hand back and forth, and nodding rapidly, you clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle any stray moans about to slip out. Frank noticed in an instant and with his free hand wrangled your palm away from your face, wanting to hear everything.
”It’s good. It’s really good”, you breathed out, and with a crooked smile, Frank leaned his forehead against yours and kissed the air out of your lungs. His lips were like magic, just like his fingers, and the combined sensation of the two had you seeing stars, speechless as you writhed under the weight of his body.
Before you could reach your climax, though, Frank withdrew his hand from you, and when you whined at the loss, his grin widened. ”Shh, sh, it’s okay. Be patient f’me, baby”, he reassured before wetting his lips and looking down at where your bodies were about to connect.
”We’ll take it slow, yeah? I got you, sweetheart. Tell me to stop and I will”, he promised you, and with an impatient nod, you agreed to his words. It was a terrible mix to be both needy and scared, to want him more than anything in the world but dread that you wouldn’t be able to go through it. But Frank was endlessly patient with you, and like he had sworn, his movements were languid and careful.
The grunt that rose from his throat when he entered you made you want to keep going. You would have done anything for him in that moment. The exertion of being slow was obvious on his creased forehead, but he didn’t break his promise — he slid in slowly, pausing as soon as you sucked in a pained breath.
”Hurts”, you croaked out, wringing your eyes shut, and immediately jumping to action, Frank smoothed the lines in the corners of your eyes.
”Hey, hey, don’t worry. I ain’t movin’ ’til you tell me to, aight?” Frank whispered, and with a gulp, you nodded.
”Maybe… maybe if you… make small movements back and forth”, you proposed, and humming in response, Frank kissed your forehead.
”You know what to do if it ain’t feelin’ right”, he noted before inching his hips forward just the slightest, then pulling back and repeating the motion. It was an attempt to get you used to him, and it had you huffing and puffing with the hopes of remembering to breathe through it, but it didn’t seem like the pain was going anywhere.
”This would be a lot easier if you were… smaller”, you pointed out with a wry smile, earning a snort from Frank.
”Wanna stop?” he asked again, but you shook your head.
”I think I can take a little more”, you said hopefully, and with concern shining in his eyes, Frank nodded reluctantly and made a firmer thrust, only for you to immediately regret it.
Your hands flew to his chest to push him away, and reacting quickly, Frank pulled out and watched the ache bloom on your face. With a frustrated huff, you ran a palm across your features, and as Frank got off of you and knelt on the bed, you sat up, as well.
”You okay, sweetheart? Shit, I shoulda— I didn’t wanna hurt ya”, he stammered, hands hovering over you, not sure if it was okay to touch you.
Pursing your lips in a sad smile, you took his hand and squeezed. ”I’m okay. It’s not your fault”, you told him quietly. Nonetheless, regret blossomed in Frank’s chest as he watched you curl up and wrap your arms around your knees bashfully. But when he saw the look on your face, he knew you were feeling much worse than he was.
”Hey, it ain’t your fault either, ya know that, right?” he spoke up, tilting his head down to catch your gaze, which you expertly avoided. Frustrated tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away.
”I guess”, you shrugged. ”It just doesn’t seem fair to you. To—to get you all worked up, and then I can’t even—I can’t—”, you tried to explain, but Frank hastily shot down your anxieties.
”You don’t owe me anythin’. Just ’cause you make me turned on, and trust me, you really do, I don’t expect you to do anythin’ ’bout it. It ain’t fun for me if it ain’t fun for you”, he stated matter-of-factly, his fingertips caressing your arm as he sat closer to you.
”I guess we can always do other stuff”, you tried to see the positive in the situation, and with an encouraging smile, Frank opened his arms for you, and you didn’t hesitate to crawl into the welcoming embrace.
”That’s right, sweetheart. I’m happy to use my fingers if that felt good. Would love to get my mouth on you”, he whispered into your ear, and with blush creeping to your cheeks, you covered your face with both hands and giggled. ”And if you ever wanna do the same for me, that’s more than enough. Or if you want to try this again some other time, I’m okay with exploring. There’s no pressure”, Frank went on, and with a genuine smile, you gave him a grateful look.
”Sorry for ruining the mood. I really do want you, you know”, you wanted him to know, and with half a smile, Frank kissed you.
”Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. I know”, he sighed, his hand caressing your hair tenderly. ”How ’bout we order some food and maybe you’ll feel better?” he proposed then, and full of adoration for the man and all his patience and understanding.
”Thank you, Frankie.”
The guilt in you began to dissipate eventually, and underneath all the frustration, you felt lucky to have someone like Frank. Someone who you could trust to take care of you, someone who was okay with taking things slow. It hadn’t always been the case with other men, but with Frank, you felt safe. You felt like it would be okay, regardless of the outcome.
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WILL YOU LOVE ME FOREVER ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You’re feeling insecure and Frank wants to reassure you.
Warnings: Body image issues, weight gain, feminine nicknames, fluff, language
Word count: 900
Author’s note: I haven’t posted anything in a hot minute because university is keeping me SO busy but I’ve been feeling a little down about my weight lately so I decided to write a little something about it. I gained a lot of weight after I started antipsychotics and even though they probably saved my life I really wish I had my old body. Maybe some day. Anyway, I know for a fact that Frank would be accepting of all bodies and not give a fuck about weight. <3
A frown was set heavy on your face as you stared at your reflection in the full-body mirror in your bedroom, your hands gliding down your figure as you assessed the situation. You had just gotten out of a shower and started dressing up, but you hadn’t made it past your underwear when you had caught a glimpse in the mirror and felt something dreadful and anxious weigh down on your chest.
Frank noticed quick enough — he was on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands, but as minutes ticked by with you spinning back and forth in front of the mirror, his attention drifted from the words on the pages and over to you. He saw the downcast look on your face, the tension in your knitted eyebrows and the incessant picking at your limbs, as if they’d change eventually.
”You okay, sweetheart?” he cleared his throat, and flinching, you snapped out of your thoughts and gave him a guilty look.
”Oh, yeah”, you mumbled with heat slithering into your cheeks because of being caught. Still, as you moved back to your closet to dig around for a shirt, Frank didn’t return to his book but kept his eyes glued on you, and you could feel his gaze even with your back turned to him. It made you feel all the more insecure, and quietly, you spoke up. ”Stop staring, Frank.”
With a low chuckle, he put his book on the bedside table and inched his frame to the very edge of the bed so he was closer to you. ”I can’t look at my girlfriend?” he hummed, and with a slight scoff, you continued to look for a top, but nothing felt right.
”I dunno what you find so worth looking at”, you argued against your better judgment, knowing very well that Frank wasn’t going to ignore your self-conscious comment.
His heart broke a little, in fact. ”Hey”, he spoke gruffly, forcing you to stop rummaging through your closet, and begrudgingly, you turned around to face him. ”Where’s this comin’ from, huh? Talk to me”, he encouraged, his dark eyes full of worry, even more so when you subconsciously brought your hands in front of you to hide your body from his attention.
”You don’t have to act like you haven’t noticed”, you muttered, but he only stared at you in confusion, earning a frustrated sigh from you. ”I’ve gained a lot of weight, Frank. It’s obvious”, you gestured at your body with a sad look deep in your eyes, before folding your arms in front of yourself again to hide your stomach from him.
Frowning, Frank pulled at your arms to unravel them and allow him to take your hands in his. ”It ain’t a bad thing, sweetheart. You’re still just as beautiful as ever”, he pointed out, but he could tell you didn’t believe him.
”I already feel like you’re so out of my league, and now this…”, you added quietly, casting a look down at your conjoined hands to avoid his eyes piercing into yours.
At your words, though, he couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. ”Out of your league? You gotta know that ain’t true, pretty girl. You’re gorgeous, everythin’ ’bout you. And you really think I care about your weight? C’mon, sweetheart, you know me better than that”, he insisted, trying to tilt his head low so he could catch your gaze.
You didn’t seem convinced, so with a sigh, he reached for your hips and pulled you in closer. ”Hey, I mean it. I wouldn’t change a thing ’bout you. I love you. I love your body. You’re sexy as hell, darlin’. But you’re also soft and lovely in all the right ways and I—I can’t get enough of ya”, Frank rambled away, his grip on you tightening as he admired you from head to toe.
”Thank you”, you whispered before turning back to the mirror and trying to see yourself in a more positive light. Frank didn’t hesitate to stand up behind you, his figure hovering above yours as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head.
”My gorgeous girl. Could look at you all day. Shit, you make me feel things I hadn’t in a long time, y’know that? You’re so much more than a number on the scale. That shit don’t matter. I love all of this”, he went on, running his hands across your belly and your thighs before settling back on your hips.
”If you didn’t have to go to work, I’d take my time and show you just how much I’preciate you”, he spoke lowly in your ear, the timber of his voice sending a shiver down your spine, and noticing, Frank broke into a grin. He kissed your temple and you finally cracked a smile of your own, making him feel successful in his mission to make you feel better.
”Thanks, Frankie. I love you”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank spun you around so he could tip your jaw up and lean down to kiss you tenderly. His lips met yours and you let your eyes fall shut as he kissed the air out of your lungs, always so dizzying and enchanting.
”I love you too, sweetheart. And when you get home tonight, I’mma make sure you know just how much.”
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no request. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for all your work that you put into your writing. thank you, and a lot of love for you.
this is just the sweetest thing, thank you so much <333
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WANT YOU SO BAD ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You’re Matt’s best friend and you don’t much care for how Frank treats him — but you do end up caring for the man himself.
Warnings: Language, mentions of wounds, mutual pining
Word count: 1.8k
Author’s note: Ohmygod this request is literally 8 months old, I feel so bad it took me so long but here it finally is. Anon, if you see this, I hope you enjoy it, I’m thinking of you today <3
It was no easy feat being best friends with a vigilante — as much had been proven to you ever since you had bonded with Matt Murdock. You were constantly worried about him and for someone who had no prior experience, you sure found yourself doing a lot of stitching and nursing. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to only know the lawyer side of him, but since he had saved your life as Daredevil and you had pieced his identity together all on your own, there was no changing the facts of your friendship. And those were 1) you were scared he was gonna get himself killed one day, and 2) you were going to do all you could to protect him, just like he protected you.
So, when a certain second vigilante made his debut in your city and Matt found himself in trouble yet again, you made the big bad Punisher someone you kept your eye on — for Matt’s sake, of course.
You weren’t in their little group, so you didn’t cross paths with him too quickly, and you doubted Matt would have introduced you to him. But as fate would have it, you and Frank frequented the same diner near your apartment, and on a Saturday night just like any other, you found the man sipping coffee in the corner booth of your favorite place to get French fries.
You placed your order and then, defiantly as ever, strutted your way to Frank and sat down across from him with a stern stare etched onto your face. His own expression spoke in volumes — who the Hell were you to invade his personal space and alone time? Still, he didn’t say anything, only stared back at you, trying to figure out why you looked so familiar. Had he killed someone close to you?
”You don’t know me, but I know you”, you started, inhaling and exhaling heavily to keep your anger at bay. ”You shot my best friend in the head, you asshole”, you seethed, keeping your voice quiet to avoid other patrons overhearing you, but it was still obvious you were pissed at him.
At that, Frank chuckled. ”You’re Red’s friend”, he put two and two together, and as he reached for his coffee mug again, you snatched it away from him, evoking a frustrated glare from him.
”Damn right I am. He’s just trying to protect the people in this city. He did nothing to deserve your… your shitstorm”, you ranted, pointing a blaming finger right at his chest. He lowered his eyes to your hand, but eventually looked right back up at you, leaning in to close the distance and whisper his counter-argument over the table.
”Yeah? Tell your friend he’s a fuckin’ coward. The criminals in this city… they don’t deserve a second chance. He ain’t makin’ any difference. I put a stop to ’em”, he growled, his eyes a bottomless pit as you made contact with them, and something about the sincere fury in them made you swallow. You were angry, but so was he, that much was obvious.
Before you could say anything more, the lady working at the diner brought your bag of food over to you, and gave you a reason to leave Frank alone. As you got up, you clenched your jaw and gave him one last look.
”I’ve got my eye on you”, you warned him, and as you walked away, Frank couldn’t help but chuckle. You were a force, and as much as he tried to resist, he felt drawn to that.
The next time you and Frank were in the same orbit, you were having a night out with your two best friends. It wasn’t the classiest bar, and maybe that was why it had attracted lowlifes to its pool table, but the drinks they served were cheap and the music they played good enough to dance to — that was why you were there, and that was exactly what you told him when he found you by the counter.
”This place ain’t safe”, he spoke quietly by your ear, trying to warn you, but you were feeling stubborn and a little drunk, so his attempt to get you out didn’t go too well.
”Screw you, who are you to tell me I can’t enjoy a night out?” you spat at him, loud enough for the gang members by the pool table to turn their attention to you. You were nobody to them, but Frank? He was far too easily recognized, and before you realized it, a full-blown gunfight had broken out.
Frank hauled you over the bar counter and you crouched onto the floor to shield yourself from the gunfire. Screams filled the night as people ran out of the bar, but Frank ran towards the danger, reminding you all too much of Matt. But when you peeked over the counter, you saw him in all his glory, and in that moment, he wasn’t like your best friend at all. Whereas Matt was graceful and precise in his movements, Frank was brute power, using his fists when guns didn’t do the trick. Blood coated his knuckles and he didn’t stop even when the men were down — only when they lay dead and he could catch his breath over their bodies.
You stood up and stared at him in some kind of wonder and amazement, but the words that tumbled out of your mouth were far from appreciative. ”Way to ruin girls’ night”, you scoffed, and rolling his eyes, Frank looked you over to make sure you were okay.
”They get you?” he rasped, and shaking your head, you smoothed your hands over your dress.
”I’m good.”
Nodding, Frank wiped his hands against his jeans and then offered one to you. ”Aight. I’m walkin’ you home. Don’t even try and protest, sweetheart.”
Reluctantly, you took his hand. ”I’m not your sweetheart”, you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, anyway, and it made him crack half a smile.
For such a big city, your circles seemed to be quite small. You ran into each other almost habitually after that, and without fail you managed to lecture him about treating Matt better and he argued back. But in between those little spats, you had both developed a liking to seeing each other, even if neither of you would admit it. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you were doing a hell of a job distracting him from his mission, just by being you.
Undoubtedly, you had gotten under his skin, because not much time had gone by when he was actually working with Matt, not against him. Of course, you only learned about this when the two men appeared at your doorstep in the middle of the night.
You opened the door only to find Matt struggling to support Frank’s weight on him, a pool of blood soaking through the latter’s shirt. ”What the fuck?” you breathed out, stepping aside to let them in, and Matt didn’t waste any time in getting Frank to your couch.
”He took a knife for me”, Matt explained vaguely before turning to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. ”I need to go back out and make sure they didn’t follow us here. Can you handle him?” he asked you with genuine concern behind his words, but you didn’t hesitate.
”Yeah, I got this. Go, get out of here”, you urged him, and with that, he fled the apartment and left you alone with a groaning Frank. You glanced at him before heading for the bathroom where you quickly grabbed your first-aid kit and then stepped back into the living room where you crouched in front of him.
”I can do it myself”, Frank tried, but you slapped his hand away and gave him a glare.
”I got it. Take your shirt off”, you commanded, and for a second, Frank simply looked at you, but eventually caved in. With a huff, he struggled to get his shirt off but soon enough it was tossed onto the floor and you could get a good look at the gash on his abdomen. ”Okay. Definitely needs stitches but you’ll live”, you assessed the situation before taking out the disinfectant and getting to work.
You were both silent for a moment, with you focusing on Frank and Frank looking around the apartment, taking in all the details. It was so you. You had turned the place into a home, something he hadn’t been in for a long time, and against his better judgment, he relaxed. With you, he felt safe, like he could breathe again.
”So, you were protecting him, huh?” you asked finally, not looking up from the wound but the teasing tone in your voice was obvious.
Frank snorted. ”It ain’t that deep. You look after the people on your team, ’s all. I wasn’t gonna be outnumbered like that”, he explained it away, and now, it was your turn to chuckle.
”You sure you didn’t get attached? Maybe it started out as a rivalry, but then you realized he wasn’t so bad, after all. In fact, he’s kind of nice. Just what you needed. And now you can’t imagine being without him”, you theorized, right as you completed the final stitch.
”We still talkin’ about Red?” Frank asked in that deep voice of his, and your heart skipped a beat. You looked up at him, your eyes locked on each other, and suddenly you were painfully aware of his shirtless state. It was truly a sight to behold — he was sculpted like an artist’s handiwork, and now, with your neatly applied stitches on him, maybe he was.
”I’m done now”, you evaded the question while reaching for his shirt and handing it back over to him. Frank shrugged it back on, and you made a move to get up from the floor, but he stopped you with a gentle hand on your wrist.
”I did get attached”, he admitted quietly, avoiding your eyes for a beat before looking right into your soul and tilting his head at you. You were situated right between his knees, resting on top of your own, and it gave him the perfect angle to lean down and seal the distance between your lips. His landed on yours like a magnet was pulling them together, soft and sweet, not at all as rough or intimidating as he was. With you, he was gentle and tender, and your heart fluttered when he pulled away.
”Red’s gonna be so mad”, he whispered, and you couldn’t help but giggle, both of you chuckling before he kissed you again, a little more determined and heavy this time. Your eyes closed and you brought both hands to his face, cradling him and holding him close to you, all the while you breathed each other in.
”I guess he’s just gonna have to deal with it.”
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Hello love! I know you’re probably still in recovery, so feel free to table this request as long as you like (or permanently if it doesn’t vibe with you!) but it came to mind and I immediately thought of you.
I thought, maybe something happens to the reader as a consequence of Frank’s life. Maybe they’re kidnapped or tortured or otherwise hurt, and it’s really not that bad - Frank gets to you in time, and you’re not too terribly hurt. But it sets off the readers cPTSD, which they weren’t ready to share with Frank yet. And he thinks they’re haunted and traumatized by the event, and you don’t know how to tell him it’s not what he thinks. And Franks doing his whole guilt spiral but you can’t explain that it’s not his fault, that these cuts and bruises are nothing. That you’re not scared of those men. That it’s something else you’re scared of
WILL YOU STILL LOVE WHO I AM ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You’re kidnapped and Frank comes to your rescue, but the ordeal triggers your CPTSD and you just want to make Frank feel less guilty.
Warnings: Knives, guns, mild torture, childhood abuse, hurt/comfort
Word count: 1.8k
Author’s note: I hope I did your idea justice!! I don’t feel like this is my best work but it’s a very heavy topic to write about and I really wanted to be respectful and careful with it. Sending you lots of love <33 (Also, I’m realizing I am NOT good at ending fics lmaooo.)
It was supposed to be a fun night out with your girlfriends. And you could have sworn you hadn’t taken your eyes off of your glass, but somewhere between laughing at your friend and reapplying your lipgloss you must have lost focus and that was when they had struck. The dancefloor was full, anyway, so you shouldn’t have been surprised that no one paid attention to a stranger dragging you away, and yet, you wished so dearly that someone would have.
That, you figured, was how you ended up in that warehouse, tied to a chair with your head heavy and groggy, just like your eyelids. You couldn’t tell how long it had been, but you were tired and scared and all you wanted was to go home.
You came to when one of your captors roughly grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. ”Smile. It’s for your boyfriend”, the man grinned in satisfaction, and as he squished your face and snapped a photo of you, you squinted at the flash. It was over quickly but the burn on your jaw remained, and it made you groan as you tried to look around you and process your surroundings.
”What do you say we make you all pretty for when he arrives?” the man spoke up in front of you, and when you turned to look at him, you saw the gleaming knife in his hands. You inhaled sharply and your whole body tensed at the implications, but with your wrists and ankles tied, there was nowhere for you to go.
He traced the knife across your stomach, not enough to draw blood but enough to remind you he could. He then fisted the material of your dress in one hand and, with his other one, drove the blade through the fabric, creating wide tears over your chest and thighs. He laughed mockingly, and as he trailed the knife past your revealed chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
”You’re going to regret this”, you mustered, but the shakiness in your voice didn’t make a very convincing case. Still, the attempt was enough to piss him off, and before you could do or say anything else, he had cut you right across your collarbone.
”Don’t talk back to me”, he warned you, and despite the tears running down your face, you stared back at him defiantly.
”You’re pathetic”, you spat at him, and within seconds, he had swung his hand across your face, making the warehouse echo with the smack. You cried out, and in an instant, you were back in your childhood home — at the hands of your parents, slapped around like you weren’t worth anything else.
You supposed that dissociating from the situation was how you got through the next hour. You were far too busy stuck in a flashback to fully process the cuts you received at the hands of your captor, but you heard every word he whispered in your ear.
You’re worthless. You deserve this. No one’s coming to save you.
It was all too familiar to you. But you had survived then, and you were determined to survive now — you knew Frank was coming to your rescue. Even if you had barely started dating, he wouldn’t let an innocent person get killed by his enemies, and that was exactly why you had faith that it was only a matter of time.
And, indeed, eventually you heard gunshots from behind the heavy door closing you alone with the man. He flinched, and when you both heard Frank roar out his name, you knew it was time. He reacted by circling behind you and holding the knife to your throat, so tight you barely dared to breathe.
Then the door opened, and Frank looked absolutely feral as he pointed the gun at the man behind you. ”Let her go”, he demanded with his gravelly voice, and the man only laughed.
”You stupid—”, he began, but Frank didn’t waste more time — he pulled the trigger, and your captor dropped dead, the knife clattering against the floor as he did.
You exhaled heavily, and immediately, Frank was rushing to your side. ”I gotchu, sweetheart. ’M here now. I’mma take you home, okay?” he rasped, using his own knife to free you from your binds. Your body slumped forward and he caught you with ease, supporting you against his chest as he gathered your limbs and heaved you up into his arms.
”I got you”, he repeated in a quiet whisper, before carrying you out to his truck and taking you home.
Soon enough, you were seated on the edge of your bathtub with an ice pack against your bruising eye and Frank’s hand ghosting over your body to assess all the damage. In hindsight, it really wasn’t as bad as it could have been — minor, shallow cuts littered your skin but they didn’t even need stitches, and the drugs were wearing off. Frank still made sure to disinfect the cuts and apply band-aids where it was necessary, but for the most part, there was nothing to do about the physical aspect.
He helped you out of your torn dress and into one of his sweaters, and the whole time, you could tell how tense he was, like he was a ticking timebomb about to go off.
”You saved me”, you voiced your thoughts out loud, after not having said a word since he had found you. Your words got his eyes to meet yours, and you gave him a weak smile. ”You found me and I’m okay”, you added, and with a wry scoff, Frank looked down at your conjoined hands as you stood in the middle of your bedroom.
”You’re not okay”, he grunted, his voice dripping with guilt and blame, all of it directed at himself. ”I never shoulda let this happen”, he continued as he let go of your hands and started pulling off his skull-adorned vest, only now finding the time to take care of himself.
”It wasn’t your fault”, you argued with a frown, and with his back turned to you, Frank shrugged.
”Wouldn’t have happened to you if you weren’t involved with me”, he pointed out, and from the fragile tone, you felt like he was on the verge of tears. It made you sick to your stomach, and in a sick twist, you started to feel guilty, for causing him distress.
You weren’t used to someone looking after you, either. And his care-taking seemed to only emphasize the voice in your head that your parents had instilled in. You didn’t deserve it. You would have been better off dead.
Swallowing, you gave Frank’s back a caress before dropping your hand. ”Let’s just get some sleep, okay?” you proposed, ready to put this night behind you, and with a small nod, Frank agreed.
It was 4 AM when you jolted awake from a nightmare. You cried out as you flinched up, and reacting to the potential danger, Frank snapped out of his slumber, ready to attack. When he saw you sitting next to him, on the edge of hyperventilating, he ran a hand across his face and reached for your arm.
”Sweetheart”, he called for you, and startled out of your haze, you turned to look at him. You let your shoulders drop and with a sigh, you buried your face in your hands, all the while Frank climbed out of bed and began pacing back and forth in the room.
”This is my fault, shit, I never should have let you go. I never should have gotten you involved in the first place”, he rambled away, ”I fucked up, I did, and now you’re sufferin’ ’cause of me.”
Shaking your head, you tried to open your mouth and tell him. You wanted to. But a part of you was nervous. You hadn’t told him about all your trauma yet, hadn’t disclosed the effects your childhood still had on you, and you didn’t know how to get the ball rolling.
”Frank”, you croaked out, but he didn’t stop pacing. ”Frank, listen to me. It’s not your fault”, you insisted, and finally, he gave you a weary look, like he was catching you in a lie. But it wasn’t a lie — your nightmare hadn’t been about the man with the knife, it hadn’t been about the cuts or the bruises, it hadn’t been about any of it. It was like any other nightmare you had on a regular basis, and if anyone was to be blamed, it was your parents.
”Look… I didn’t want to tell you like this, but it’s not the first or the worst time I’ve been hurt”, you started, and finally, Frank paused and sat on the edge of the bed to be closer to you.
”Whaddya mean?” he wondered, curiosity and concern in his voice as he looked at you intently.
”My parents”, you shrugged with an unamused chuckle. ”I guess all of this is reminding me of the way they treated me. They put me down, physically and verbally, and no one’s ever looked after me the way you do”, you explained, and instantly, something shifted in Frank’s eyes.
”Shit”, he breathed out, ”baby, I’m sorry. You realize you deserve to be looked after, right?”
You licked your lips in thought. ”I don’t know”, you answered truthfully, and that was what got Frank to snap out of his guilt. He sat closer to you and took your hands in his, peppering your knuckles with kisses.
”I mean it. I’m real sorry no one’s shown you that before. But lemme tell you, I was going outta my mind tonight. I was wonderin’ if I’d ever see ya again. And that’s a feeling I never wanna deal with again. I want you in my life, and I fuckin’ wish it wasn’t so dangerous”, he ranted, and pursing your lips together in a faint smile, you nodded.
”It really wasn’t that bad. I’m okay. You came to get me”, you assured, before adding, ”and you’re worth it.”
Chuckling, Frank ducked his head before leaning in to kiss your forehead. ”You’re worth everythin’. I adore you, y’know? There ain’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you”, he emphasized, holding you close to him.
”Thank you for saying that. I might need some support for the next few days. I think I can manage it for the most part but after getting triggered things suck a little extra for a while”, you spoke shyly, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, or revealing too much of yourself. This thing with him was still so fresh, and that was why you had avoided telling him about your past before — it was too much too soon. But now, you supposed, you both had baggage and it was just a part of who you were.
”Hey, you got it. Anything else you need right now?” Frank tilted his head at you, and quickly, you nodded.
”Yes. For you to stop blaming yourself and to get in bed with me”, you decided, and with a chuckle, Frank nodded.
”Aight. I’ll try my best. C’mere, sweetheart.” And with that, he wrapped you into his embrace and helped you fall back asleep, satisfied that you were still in one piece and home with him.
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hello my love!!! i was wondering if i could request a fic with a reader who finds it hard to accept affection (even though she loves and craves it), especially in public getting super embarrassed and thinking everyone is staring and judging because why would someone like FRANK be with someone like them??? but frank is just determined at all times to show how much he cares and knows to respect boundaries but also how to push back a little and open the reader up to accepting open affection more. idk if that makes sense? i'm sorry if it doesn't
WITH MY TUNNEL VISION ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You struggle with affection, but Frank is determined to give it to you.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, anxiety, feminine nicknames
Word count: 1.3k
Author’s note: I loved this request so much and I was so worried about not doing it justice, but I tried my best!! I hope you like it :)
Even months after you and Frank had more or less officially started dating, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. He saw himself as someone damaged and broken, but you thought he was the greatest man you had ever gotten to know, and admired him from inside out. He was caring and protective and no doubt easy on the eyes — and most days, you appreciated that wholeheartedly. Some days, you felt insecure. Full of doubt and wonder that he would choose to be with you, and that only heightened whenever you were out in public together.
So, when Curtis and his girlfriend invited you and Frank to a bar for a night out, you were stressed to say the least. You felt completely out of place, like you had no business being by Frank’s side, his arm casually over your shoulders as he laughed at whatever Curtis had just said.
”You okay?” Frank’s deep voice cut through the buzz in your head, and when he ducked down to brush his lips against your forehead, you instinctively dodged — and in an instant, guilt rushed into your system and you could physically feel the air getting awkward. ”Hey, what’s wrong?” Frank added with a frown, unsure where the hesitation was coming from. You had been fine before going out, not a single sign of being mad at him to be seen, and his kisses well-received.
”I’m gonna get another drink”, you evaded the question, and as you turned for the bar, you could feel their eyes on you. That was the feeling you had wanted to avoid — like you were being watched and judged, and here it was, anyway.
You weren’t by yourself for very long. As soon as you were seated by the bar, Frank was following and leaning against the counter to catch your wandering eyes. ”Sweetheart”, he grunted, tilting his head to meet your gaze, ”talk to me.”
Inhaling sharply, you glanced at him before returning your eyes to the bartender mixing your drink. ”You know what’s wrong”, you insisted, but when Frank just stared back at you, you sighed. ”It’s the… affection. Feels weird in public”, you explained further, and with realization dawning on his face, he slowly nodded.
Hell, he hadn’t been the most touchy person, either. But something about you had made it feel safe and secure again, like it was okay for him to be happy and show that to everyone else.
”Baby… ’m sorry, I… shit, yeah, I do remember you mentionin’ that”, he cleared his throat, watching you closely and aching to touch you. ”How come you don’t like it?” Frank wondered with a tone of sincerity, not trying to push your buttons but to understand you better — and as much as you wanted to be frustrated, you understood that.
”I dunno”, you shrugged, but you already knew he wasn’t going to take that for an answer. ”I guess I just feel like people will stare. And—and judge me”, you went on, and with an incredulous chuckle, Frank knitted his eyebrows together.
”Judge you?” he repeated with confusion, and nodding, you drew a generous sip from your drink.
”Yeah, you know, just… you’re… you. And I’m just me. And why would you choose to be with me, right? Everyone can see it. You could do so much better and I swear, if people see you kissing me, they’ll just wonder what you’re doing with me, wasting your time on me”, you rambled, and by the end of your rant, you were flustered and looking around to make sure you hadn’t been too loud. Even now, with Frank only inches away from you, you were sure eyes were on you.
Frank processed your words for a moment. ”Hey, you know that’s total bullshit, right?” he spoke finally, giving you a grave look, his curious smile long gone. ”If anything, people will wonder what a stunner like you is doing with an ugly mug like mine. And even if that were the case, I don’t really fuckin’ care what other people think. You’re my girl, and no one else matters”, he defended you, seething at the mere idea of someone looking at you wrong.
”Did ya see someone starin’? ’Cause you know I’ll fight ’em”, he changed his tone suddenly, glancing around to pinpoint any lurkers, but you quickly placed a calming hand on his forearm.
”I didn’t. It’s just my anxieties, that’s all”, you sighed in defeat, and taking in a breath, Frank turned back to you and nodded.
”And you know it’s all lies, right? Just your head tryna mess with my girl”, he pointed out, and as much as you wanted to justify your fears somehow, you couldn’t help but admit he was right.
”So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna agree on a safeword that you can use if it gets too much. Until you say it, I’mma dote on you ’til you’re spoiled rotten, ’cause I wanna show you how much I goddamn admire you and I don’t really care who’s around to see”, he proposed, and with a smile curving your lips back up, you stared at him in disbelief — here he was proving yet again that he was everything.
”Deal.”
You tried your very best to tolerate the public displays of affection, because truthfully, you wanted them. You craved his touch and his attention, and behind closed doors, you were hungry for it. So you tried to extend the same courtesy out and about, pushing your own limits because deep down you knew he was right about other people not mattering.
And the greatest part was seeing how happy Frank was. You were the first serious relationship he had found himself in since Maria and it had taken him a long time to relearn how to be in one. But slowly, he had unraveled what worked for him and you, and discovered that he really, really wanted to show his girl off.
So whenever you were out, he made sure to hold your hand or have his arm around your shoulders. Every now and then he would lean in to kiss your forehead or cheek, sometimes even lips, and you were learning how to lean in instead of pull away.
A month later you were back at the same bar with Curt and his girlfriend, on a night when it was especially busy. Frank could tell you were nervous, but trusting in the progress you had made together, he kept you close to him.
”So, things are good?” Curtis queried while Frank was getting you a new drink, and with a beaming smile, you nodded.
”Things are great. He makes me really happy”, you chuckled sheepishly, and just in time, Frank appeared from behind you, handing over your drink.
”Who’s the lucky guy?” he grinned, and softly nudging him, you snorted.
And then, as if it was the most natural thing, you thanked him for the drink by giving him a kiss, and as soon as your lips left his, you could see the amazed stare in his eyes. Immediately, you realized what you had done, and you opened your mouth to say something, but panic washed over you and you were rendered speechless.
”No, no, baby, it’s okay. You did good. You did perfectly”, Frank breathed out, his eyes full of love as he leaned down to cup your cheeks and kiss your nose and jaw and forehead. ”No one’s lookin’, I promise. It’s just you and me, right?” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
You caught your breathing and managed a nod, and when you glanced at Curtis and found him preoccupied with his girlfriend, relief washed over you. ”Yeah, it’s okay”, you swallowed when you looked around, confirming that truly, no one cared. No one was judging.
”Love you”, Frank spoke quietly before leaving a kiss right next to your ear, and squeezing his hand, you dropped your head on his shoulder.
”Love you.”
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write something about reader who used to self harm and is slowly starting to do it again and Frank finding out.
SCAR-CROSSED LOVERS ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You relapse and when Frank finds out, he tries his best to comfort you.
Warnings: SELF-HARM, hurt/comfort
Word count: 1.3k
Author’s note: Anon, I sympathize with you <3 I had to restart my count 13 times this year so safe to say it hasn’t been an easy one. But I got this and so do you, I promise. I believe in you!! And guess what, so does Frank :) Thank you for sharing with me.
You had made it through 37 days. You had had yourself convinced that this time it was for real — this time, you wouldn’t have to start counting all over again and this time, you could make yourself proud. More importantly, you could make Frank proud. He was such a big part of why you had been able to stop, one of the main reasons why you had stayed so strong, and there were no words to describe the rush you felt when he smiled at you, kissed the top of your head and told you how amazed he was. How could you do anything to change that?
And yet, on the 38th day, you caved. It was so stupid, it wasn’t like anything even happened but you woke up with a dark cloud over you and it wouldn’t budge. Frank was out of town all week and you were left alone with your thoughts, the kind that spiraled and got out of hand with every passing moment. You felt hopeless and out of options and in a moment of weakness, you gave in to the urges.
You cried instantly. You had wrecked all your progress, lost Frank’s admiration for you, all for momentary relief that soon turned into shame and regret. And that, in a vicious cycle, got you addicted all over again. You felt like you deserved it now, like you needed to punish yourself, and that was why you did it again the next day. And the day after that. And again the next day. Sooner rather than later, the wounds that faded into light scars were back and you looked just as damaged as you felt.
When Frank finally came home from his trip, you were able to control yourself. You didn’t want to be caught in the act, and you didn’t want to be exposed, in the immense fear that he’d be entirely too disappointed or bluntly decide you were far too much trouble than he had signed up for.
”I missed ya, sweetheart”, he murmured into your neck, his arms tight around your shorter figure, and all you could think about was him turning on his heel and leaving you for good if only he knew.
”I missed you”, you whispered, but your voice was much too hollow for Frank to take the words and accept them as they were. He always knew when something was wrong. He just didn’t know what — but he’d get to the bottom of it. And that was exactly what you feared.
When he was all unpacked and you had eaten dinner together — although you had barely had an appetite — you were cuddled up on the couch, the TV on in front of you but neither of you really paying attention. He was wondering how to pick your secrets out of you, questioning if you were upset at him for being away so long, and while he was thinking his head through, you were frozen in the fear of being caught.
”Baby, I can hear you thinkin’. What is it, huh? You mad at me?” Frank was the first to speak up, and flinching at the gravelly sound of his voice, you shifted against his chest and looked up at him with wide eyes.
”What makes you think that?” you squeaked, and with a wry chuckle, Frank tilted his head at you and brushed his thumb across your chin.
”I dunno, figured that maybe you were gettin’ sick of me always being gone. I don’t like it either, y’know”, he murmured before leaning down to kiss your shoulder.
Sighing, you cast a look down at your shaky hands. Now you had made him feel bad. God, the guilt was unbearable. ”No, I’m not mad. I understand why you had to be away”, you spoke quietly, and betraying your facade, a tear rolled down your cheek and Frank reacted quickly, wiping it away with his fingertip.
”Then what is it? Ya can’t tell me everything’s fine. I ain’t stupid. What I am is worried, sweetheart”, he continued, rough voice full of affection and concern as he eyed you up and down.
You knew you were past the point of no return. There was no getting out of this. You couldn’t lie to him, either.
As if on cue, your phone screen lit up, and you glanced at the notification that mocked you. Your first day sober! The app you had downloaded when you had quit the first time reminded you now, and unable to speak the words out loud, you lifted up the phone and showed Frank. You could see the moment it registered in his head, his eyes darkening and his face dropping, and in an instant, you were crying and pulling away from him.
”I couldn’t stay strong. I tried, I swear, but it was too much. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you”, you tried to explain, your trembling hands coming to cover your face as you inched to the other end of the couch, but as soon as you were off of him, Frank was trying to close the distance back up.
”Hey, hey, stop that. You haven’t disappointed me, sweetheart, what do you mean? C’mere”, he insisted, shushing you gently while widening his arms for you. You hesitated, not really feeling like you had earned it, but the selfish part of you that wanted to feel his comfort won, and you curled up into his chest while trying to level your breathing.
”You always cheered me on. You always made me feel so strong and so good about myself. And it still wasn’t enough”, you whispered shakily, sniffling while closing your eyes and breathing Frank in, as if worried he was going to slip away from you at any given moment.
”I’m sad, of course, I am. ’Cause I never want you to be hurtin’. But I never thought I’d be able to magically fix anythin’. It’s a battle and some days are tougher than others. All you can do is try again the next day. It doesn’t make you any less worthy or amazing if you stumble along the way”, Frank assured you, his arms holding you in place as he rested his head against yours.
”Like I told you last time, and the time before that, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’mma help you in any way you need me to”, he added, and with a quiet mix of a sob and a laugh, you nodded.
”How do I deserve you?” you wondered out loud, and with a chuckle, Frank kissed the top of your head.
”You never judge me for my scars, and I ain’t ever gonna judge you for yours. I promise you that, sweetheart”, he shrugged, as it if was the most casual thing. He then rolled up his sleeve and pointed at a new wound on his forearm. ”That one’s gonna leave a mark, for sure. Some asshole nicked me a few days ago. Not too bad, but it’ll be my millionth scar”, he explained before pulling down his collar and gesturing at an older scar at his collarbone. ”Got that one when I was still in the Marines. Hated it for a long time but now it’s a part of me, I guess.”
Nodding in understanding, you withdrew just enough so you could roll up your own sleeve and point at the scars there. ”That one was when I had a fight with my best friend and I was sure I was losing her forever. That one… shitty grade from a really important exam. That one is from when I couldn’t fit into my favorite dress anymore. I guess a lot of things get me down and I always go for the blade to cope”, you explained, and now, it was Frank’s turn to nod.
”I’preciate you sharin’ with me. I know it ain’t easy. But I’m always willin’ to listen, aight?” Frank insisted, gently taking your arm to pepper your wounded skin with the softest kisses.
”I love you”, you whispered sincerely, overwhelmed by your adoration for him, and cracking a smile, Frank leaned in to kiss your lips.
”I love you. Scars and all.”
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Hey love ♥️💕♥️ I just wanted to pop in and say that I hope you’re recovering well from your surgery! I remember in October when you wrote Disappearing Years and mentioned you had a rough diagnosis, and then now you’ve just had an operation. Seems you’ve really been going through it this year, which I’m so sorry to hear. I hope you start feeling better soon and that everything turns around. You deserve all manner of wonderful things
this is so so sweet!! thank you so much <33 i wish you all the best as well :’)
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hope your recovery from surgery goes well <3
thank you tons 🥺🫶🏻 !!!
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hello my love, I hope you're feeling okay after your surgery and that you're able to rest and recover peacefully ❤
thank you so much! i really appreciate this <33
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ONLY HOPE FOR ME ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: After you’ve gone through a surgery, Frank is there to support you through the recovery.
Warnings: Mentions of surgery, feminine nicknames, just a brief mention of a shower together, fluff
Word count: 1.3k
Author’s note: This is straight up just me trauma dumping LMFAO but I thought maybe someone else will find themselves in a similar situation and could use something like this. I had to get surgery because of a tumor in my ovaries and I’m currently in the process of recovering and all I want is Frank to be real. GAHHH.
”I’ll be right there when you wake up, okay, sweetheart?”
Those were the words Frank had reassured you with right before you had been taken to the operating room, and you clung onto them like a mantra or a prayer to keep you going. You had never been in a situation like this before, and despite all the calming speeches you had gotten from the surgeon and the anesthesiologist, you were scared. You were nervous. But above all, you were glad that you weren’t alone — you had Frank, and that was giving you all the courage you needed.
You imagined holding his hand when they inserted the cannula, and you pictured his kisses on your forehead when they started giving you oxygen, and when the doctor warned you that the medicine for the pain would make you woozy, you closed your eyes and thought about Frank’s beautiful, beaten face to give you comfort. And thinking about him was how you passed out, without even realizing it.
Hours had passed, but to you, it felt like you had only blinked when you finally opened your eyes again. Everything was blurry and disorienting, and for a moment you thought you were still on the operating table, but as you slowly adjusted to the bright surroundings, you realized that wasn’t possible. No, instead, you were in the recovery room, concealed from prying eyes by white curtains, and your whole body nestled comfortably under the heated blankets.
”Hey, there’s my brave girl”, a familiar, deep voice cut through all the confusion and buzzing in your ears, and immediately laser-focused on him, you rolled your head to the side and found Frank seated next to you, just like he had promised. Your eyes still felt so heavy and difficult to keep open, but you could still see the faint smile directed at you, and a quiet giggle rose up your throat as you lazily gestured at Frank’s nose to brush against him.
”You’re here”, you whispered, almost like you couldn’t believe it, and Frank chuckled.
”Promised ya, didn’t I?” he retorted before taking your hand and giving it a soft caress. ”The doctor was here just a few minutes ago. Said everything went just as planned. You did perfectly, sweetheart”, he continued, and with a bashful smile, you let your eyes close again.
”I didn’t do that much”, you pointed out, and shrugging, Frank shuffled closer to kiss the back of your hand.
”Seems to be like you’re the perfect patient”, he hummed, and you couldn’t help but snicker slightly.
Before you could say anything more, your nurse appeared from around the corner, asking if you were feeling up to eating something. You answered in the affirmative, and as she left to get you a sandwich, you looked back at Frank.
”I hope you know how much it means to me that you’re here”, you murmured, your speech still a little slurred, but Frank didn’t mind. He wasn’t cowering away from this side of you — you had seen him at his absolute worst, so now that it was your turn to be vulnerable, he was honored to be by your side.
He would have told you as much, but your nurse returned with a snack and something to drink, as well as some painkillers, and Frank respectfully moved aside to let her do her thing. Once she had set all the food down, you began to awkwardly inch upwards to sit, and only then you realized how much in pain you were. You grimaced and whimpered as you attempted to sit up, and before the nurse could move a muscle, Frank was up from his chair and letting you put all your weight on his arm so you could comfortably adjust your position. You must have dug your nails into his arm, but he didn’t flinch — something that made the nurse smile as she thanked Frank for the help.
You squeezed your eyes closed and exhaled deeply, trying to breathe through the pain, but as soon as you got your hands on the water brought to you, you downed the painkillers eagerly. Frank watched attentively, back in his chair, a concerned gaze over his dark eyes as he followed your gentle movements to pick apart the sandwich you had in front of you.
”Need any help, just say the word”, Frank assured you with a gravelly tone, and you knew that he would have fed you if you had asked for it. Still, you managed, and simply let your other hand rest in his while you ate.
Once you had eaten and the nurse had helped you to the bathroom, you were officially allowed to go home — on the condition that you wouldn’t be alone for the first 24 hours, and Frank was taking that immensely seriously. He swore to be by your side, and as much was obvious from the get-go.
”You sure you feelin’ okay? You look a little… I dunno. Don’t wanna offend the lady”, Frank cleared his throat while walking you towards the car, his hand gently on your back to support you, your bag slung over his shoulder so you didn’t have to worry about anything extra.
”I’ll be okay, Frank, thank you. Let’s just go home, okay?” you pleaded, and with a curt nod, Frank helped you to the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel and starting the car.
”Home it is.”
Needless to say, you were bedridden for the days to come, and Frank wasn’t kidding around about it. He practically carried you to bed when you first got home, and he made sure to fluff your pillows and get you at least two different kinds of drinks to keep you hydrated. When you got hungry, he was happy to help you eat, and when you needed to get up, he was right there to keep you upright. He delivered you your medication right on time, and you weren’t allowed to worry about a thing. When it was time for your first shower, he got undressed with you and made sure to tenderly wash you and take care of you, his calloused fingers carefully peeling the bandages off of your body.
The next problem was falling asleep. You were tired, drained even, but not being allowed to roll on your stomach was a personal level of Hell you hadn’t been looking forward to. You were propped up on several pillows, laying on your back, groaning and complaining and Frank was by your side, drawing soothing patterns on your arm.
”Sleep will come, baby. Just lay here with me, yeah?” he grunted, and supposing you had no other choice, you reached for his hand and squeezed it tight.
You could tell he hesitated, but slowly, he draped an arm over your belly, careful not to put too much weight on you, but simply just aching to hold you and be close to you. He breathed you in and kissed your shoulder softly, and it made you smile.
”Thank you, Frank”, you whispered, and with a quiet sound of disagreement, he lifted his head from his pillow.
”You got nothin’ to thank me for. It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. I like takin’ care o’you. And I’mma do it properly”, he insisted, and as you looked at the sincerity in his eyes, you were mere seconds away from tearing up. Going into the surgery, you had been so anxious, wondering how you’d get by without your family to support you, but turns out, you didn’t need them. You just needed Frank.
”I love you”, you spoke quietly, and for a moment, the two of you just stared into each other’s eyes, nothing but devotion between the two of you.
Slowly, Frank leaned in to give your lips a kiss, sweet but deep. ”I love you, too”, he smiled before kissing your forehead once more, ”now get some sleep, pretty girl so I can look after you again tomorrow.”
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Heyyy babe I have a fic request if you’re taking them:))) based on some personal experiences, but one where there’s no established relationship but you and Frank are two idiots in love pining for each other and are neighbours. The reason you haven’t actually done anything about your feelings is because you have an on-again/off-again abusive boyfriend who’s been in jail (but Frank doesn’t know about it). Anyways can we see the boyfriend being released from jail and coming home to your apartment, and Frank hearing through the walls him attacking you? Lots of hurt and lots of comfort after?
Please and thank youuu:) I really love your fics<3
THE ISLE OF DISTANT DREAMS ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You and Frank are neighbors and clearly sweet on each other, but one thing stands between you — your abusive ex-boyfriend.
Warnings: Physical abuse, hurt/comfort, Frank to the rescue, feminine nicknames, reader celebrates Christmas
Word count: 2.1k
Author’s note: Ohmygosh it literally took me so long to do this, you requested this in the summer but I waited so long I managed to make a Christmas fic out of it 😭 I apologize for the delay, but I hope you enjoy it!! <3
All you wanted leading up to Christmastime was some peace and quiet, and a chance to celebrate the way you always did growing up. You wanted your own little tree that you could decorate, you wanted to adorn your apartment with lights and tinsel, you wanted to listen to all the classic songs and above all, you wanted to do it without any fighting. With your ex-boyfriend, such a request was usually impossible and nothing but a fantasy, but this year, you had high hopes — he had been sent back to jail for what had to be at least the third time, and it had been enough for you to break things off. No more abuse and toxicity, you had decided.
You started early, the final days of November around the corner when you were dragging a small but adorable tree up the stairwell leading up to your apartment building. You had taken a risk, knowing that more often than not the elevator was out of order and you lived on the third floor, but you weren’t willing to compromise on the tree. Still, you couldn’t hold back a litany of swear words as you tried to heave the poor thing towards the stairs.
”Need a hand?” a gruff voice spoke from behind the tree, and although you recognized that deep voice easily, you peeked through the branches only to find your next-door neighbor standing there with an amused smile on his sharp features. You broke into a grin of your own, and gestured at the tree awkwardly.
”If you don’t mind”, you huffed, and with a dismissive wave at your worries, Frank effortlessly picked up the small tree over his shoulder and headed for the stairs, like it weighed nothing. You followed at his heel, still breathless, whereas he was striding to your floor with ease.
”Gonna be decoratin’ this weekend, huh?” Frank wondered when you finally reached your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you nodded to confirm his suspicions.
”I haven’t had a proper Christmas for a few years. Wanted to do it for real this time”, you explained, without going into the details about how your boyfriend hadn’t allowed any of your ’childish crap’, as he had so eloquently worded it. Now, he was gone and you could deck the halls as thoroughly as you wanted.
”Hey, sounds great to me”, he agreed while handing over the tree to you at your reassurances that you could handle it from your doorstep.
”What about you? Big Christmas plans?” you inquired, although you remembered him mentioning his family being gone — and concluding from the dark look that descended on his face, it was understandably on his mind still.
”Nah, I ain’t very festive like that. Probably just, uh, work”, he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and nodding, you figured it wasn’t something worth pressing more on.
”Well, if you get hungry, I always make way too much food and I’d be happy to have someone over for the holidays”, you smiled at him, and returning the expression shyly, Frank nodded.
”I’mma keep that in mind. Take care, sweetheart.” With that, he disappeared into his own apartment, and you were left alone with the tree.
You saw him again two days later — you were in the hallway putting up a wreath on your door and Frank was exiting his, dressed in a long leather jacket with a heavy duffel bag slung across his shoulder. You still weren’t quite sure what it was he did for a living, but you had learned to let him open up on his own time, instead of probing too much and shutting him up even further.
”Lookin’ great”, Frank commented while locking his door, and you grinned at him.
”Doesn’t it? You should see the apartment. I kinda went overboard, but I feel good about it”, you chuckled bashfully, and repeating the sound, Frank nodded.
”That’s all that matters, right?” he pointed out, and humming in agreement, you adjusted the wreath once more and then turned to face him.
”Right”, you smiled, ”have a good night at work, Frank.”
With a nod, Frank gave you a soft look. ”Thanks, sweetheart. Take care.”
Three more days passed by until you saw him again, this time on purpose. You had gotten around to baking some Christmassy cookies, intentionally made an extra batch just so you’d have an excuse to knock on Frank’s door. It wasn’t all selfish, though — you suspected he was as alone as you were, and could use some cheer and kindness.
When he opened the door, there was a frown etched onto his face, but at the sight of you, his eyes softened and he broke into playful smile while leaning against the doorway. ”Hey there, sweetheart”, he greeted you, and under that burning gaze and rough voice, you couldn’t help but blush.
”Hi, Frank”, you managed while handing over the small box of cookies you had wrapped in a bow just for him. ”I hope you like cookies”, you added, and at the realization of what you had done for him, his teasing smile fell into genuine surprise, and his eyes widened.
”For me? Shit, I dunno what to say. Thank you, sweetheart”, he rambled, a little flustered even, and it made you smile even wider. ”Don’t got anythin’ for you…”, he trailed off, and in an instant, you rushed to reassure him.
”You don’t have to. I just wanted to share. Really, I wasn’t doing this to get something in return”, you insisted, and observing you for a moment, Frank grunted. It was obvious he wasn’t happy about not being able to repay the favor, but he accepted the cookies, regardless.
”I owe you one, ’kay? Ever need any help with anything, I’m your guy”, he spoke sternly, but you knew there was affection behind his demanding tone. And so, you nodded.
You didn’t really expect to cash in his favor so soon. In fact, you had told yourself you wouldn’t make him go out of his way at all. And then, there was a knock on your door and you, completely unsuspecting, dashed to answer it with a smile on your face.
When you saw your ex-boyfriend, though, that smile was long gone. You couldn’t get a word out when he was already shoving his way through the door and making himself comfortable on the couch, already complaining about the colorful lights around the apartment. It was obvious he had been drinking, and knowing there was no getting him out, you swallowed your disappointment and shut the door, kissing your ideal Christmas goodbye as you did.
It must have been fate that Frank had decided to stay home that night, his guns retired for the evening. You were on his mind, even with the TV on, everything else was just background noise — you were the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head, from your sweet tendencies to your pretty little smile. Had Christmas come early for him?
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of something shattering across the hall. The noise was muffled, but as he stayed still and listened in, it was obvious that a fight had broken out. Loud arguing and things being thrown were bursting his peaceful little bubble, and for a moment, he was telling himself not to intervene. It wasn’t any of his business…
But he damn sure was going to make it so. He had never been good at just sitting on the sidelines, after all. He stepped out of his apartment and stood in the hallway in his boots, trying to locate the noise, and his heart sank in his chest when the next crash came from behind your door. He could hear you begging the other person to stop, and said other person shouting over you, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer to act.
With his fist, Frank banged on the door loud enough for the noise to stop. He heard your footsteps next, and eventually, you opened the door, shaky and teary-eyed and with a bleeding cut on your forehead. Something inside Frank boiled over, and he seethed, not waiting for your permission to walk inside the apartment and confront whoever had been giving you Hell.
”Who the hell is this? This your new boyfriend?” your ex mocked you from across the living room where the Christmas tree had been pushed down and the ornaments shattered on the floor, glass pieces everywhere and the lights you had spent so much time on all over the place. Frank was seeing red, his anger visible in his fists as he stood there, ready to bash your ex’s face in.
”I’mma say this one time and one time only. Aight? You get outta here, right now, or we’re gonna have a problem. Hear me? I ain’t gonna go easy on you”, Frank warned him, and you could tell he was being deadly serious — you had never heard his voice so cold and hollow.
Your ex, however, only laughed. That was his first mistake. His second one was making a move on Frank. As soon as he lifted his hand to poke him, Frank had grabbed his wrist and twisted until a sickening crack filled the apartment, followed by your ex’s wails. Frank shoved him back, staring at him with no remorse.
”I don’t wanna do this in front of her”, Frank spoke lowly, ”but I will.”
That was enough for your ex. He ran out of the apartment, holding his broken wrist, and you were left alone with Frank. Right there and then, though, Frank decided he was going to find him later and put an end to this for good, unwilling to give him another chance to hurt you.
Licking his lips, Frank took in a deep breath and blinked the intimidating stare out of his eyes. ”You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, and with a sniffle, you wiped your eyes.
”I—I guess”, you stammered, and with a nod, Frank reached out to give you his hand.
”Lemme get a band-aid on that forehead of yours, okay?” he proposed, and with a shaky nod, you took his hand.
He led you to his apartment and to the bathroom where he sat you on the toilet before digging through his first-aid kit and then kneeling in front of you. He was gentle and tender as his big hands wiped the blood from your forehead and glued the band-aid on, and it made you cry all over again.
”You’re so nice to me”, you whispered, and swallowing, Frank glanced at your eyes before looking back at the band-aid he was sticking on.
”No reason not to be. He was an asshole, aight? That ain’t the kinda treatment you deserve or should be used to”, he noted before leaning back and looking you over. ”If you wanna stay over—”, he began, but you cut him off.
”No, no, it’s okay. I need to go and clean up. I’ll be okay”, you swore before climbing up from the toilet and giving Frank’s arm a squeeze.
You hesitated, but eventually the urge to hug him won, and you wrapped your arms around him. Slowly, he melted into the embrace, winding his arms tightly around your shorter frame, and for a while, you just stood there, breathing each other in.
”Thank you.”
The next day, you were nearly done with picking up all the broken glass from the floor when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened, but went to answer it, regardless, this time peeking through the peephole. Much to your relief, it was Frank on your doorstep, and you didn’t hesitate to open up to him.
What surprised you, however, was the massive box of decorations in his hands. ”Hey, sweetheart”, he spoke nervously, ”I figured, uh, I could bring some stuff over and help you redecorate. If that’s okay.”
A sincere smile took over your lips as you stepped aside to let him in. ”I would really like that”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank walked into the apartment that looked so neat, you would have never guessed what had happened last night.
As Frank passed you by, you noticed his raw knuckles, bloody and bruised. You stopped him, a gentle hand brushing against his, and he instantly knew the question you didn’t dare to ask. Nevertheless, he gave you an answer.
”He ain’t ever gonna hurt you again. Okay? Trust me. Never again”, he promised, such weight in his words you didn’t have it in you to question him.
”Thank you, Frank”, you whispered, leaning on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and immediately flustered, Frank put down the box.
”C’mon”, he gestured at the decorations, ”your halls need some deckin’, sweet girl.”
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hii i’m not sure if this request is acceptable for you to write, but i was thinking a scenario where the reader is a naturally introverted & quiet person. she also struggles with self image/body issues & social anxiety. maybe reader & frank castle are at a small gathering to meet reader’s childhood bff. but she starts to become insecure & feel inadequate b/c the bff is the total opposite of her (friendly, outgoing, & etc), always has all the guys attention, & all the crushes the reader has had on a guy would reject her & pursue the bff instead. reader also dresses conservatively, doesn’t wear makeup either & the bff is the complete opposite of that. i know this is a lot to request and regardless if you do write it, i thank you for taking the time to read this!! :) <33
just a side note: reader absolutely loves her bff and would do anything for her!! she’s just so in love with frank castle & worries that she might not be enough for him :’)
ALWAYS BE THIS WAY ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You introduce Frank to your friend — cue unwarranted jealousy and a bout of insecurities.
Warnings: Feminine nicknames, insecurities, anxiety, fluff
Word count: 1.8k
Author’s note: Anon, I sympathize with you!! Sometimes I hurt my own feelings when I’m daydreaming about Frank because I start to wonder if he’d pay me any attention at all, or if he’d prefer my friends, instead. But that’s why we have fanfiction to reassure us of the opposite :) You sound like a wonderful person, I’m sending you lots of love <33 (Sidenote, I missed the part in your request where you said ’small gathering’ and the plot kinda got away from me, but I hope you like it regardless!)
The November air around you was crisp and you found yourself itching to take Frank’s hand, only to settle on shoving yours deep into your pockets. The house where you were headed was booming with noise and so very reminiscent of college parties, making you flush at the prospect of bringing Frank to one. He didn’t seem fazed, but you couldn’t tell if that was how he was truly feeling or if he was just really good at keeping a straight face.
You couldn’t believe that you had invited Frank to a party. You also couldn’t believe that he had actually said yes, but as you neared the doorstep side by side, you were actually grateful for the safe company. Your childhood best friend was to be blamed, or thanked, for the event of the night and you hadn’t had the heart to decline — she was dear to you, after all, even if you were not a party person.
”Sure about this?” Frank asked right before you reached for the doorhandle, and with wide eyes, you faced him.
”Do you wanna leave?” you asked, panicking internally at the thought of him leaving you here all alone, but the warm chuckle he gave you was reassuring in effect.
”Nah, ’m good. You just kinda look like you want the ground to swallow ya up”, Frank noted with his hands in his pockets, and awkwardly, you glanced at your feet before giving him a shrug.
”It’s not really my scene. But I love her and I want to be here for her”, you explained, and nodding, Frank promised he understood. In fact, he could respect you going out of your comfort-zone for a loved one — he was the type to put family first, too, after all.
With a deep inhale of courage, you opened the door and was welcomed with the loud music and the colorful lights inside the house. It really was quite adolescent from the looks of it, but you weren’t that surprised — your friend had found a passion in throwing parties for her sorority, and clearly, she was yet to move on. You had always felt kind of guilty for missing out on all the supposed fun, but as you stepped in now, you felt more exposed than anything.
Awkwardly, you adjusted your jacket over your dress, the one that you had worn maybe once or twice and then deemed ’too much’ for you, and glanced over your shoulder to find Frank scanning the room. He stood behind you like a bodyguard, and it only added to the insecure feeling eating you from the inside. This really wasn’t a place you’d usually be at on a Friday night, and the drinking and dancing around you was definitely a little too bold for you.
”Oh my gosh, there you are!” your friend called your name as she emerged from the crowd, her gorgeous outfit gaining all your attention right up until she grabbed your hand and started yanking you further into the house. ”Come, let’s get you something to drink”, she gushed, and as you were dragged towards the kitchen, you looked behind to make sure Frank was still following — he was.
As your friend poured you a soda, Frank grabbed a beer and was satisfied in sipping it in the background while the two of you got caught up. There was much to discuss, considering it had been months since you had seen each other, but eventually, she noticed the man you had come with, a sly smile on her face.
”Well, are you gonna introduce me to your friend or what?” she teased you with a nudge, and with an awkward laugh, you gestured between her and Frank, who stuck out one hand to the woman.
”This is Frank. He’s my, uh, friend”, you briefed her, and as soon as the word friend left your mouth, you regretted it. You wished it could have been something more, wished you could have held Frank’s hand and linked arms with him, leaned into him and kissed his cheek, but alas, you could not. And now that it was aired out, he was basically fair game, and you already knew your friend would ask for your permission to flirt with him later. And you’d say yes, because… because what else could you say? He wasn’t yours. You just wished he was.
”Pleasure”, Frank spoke gruffly, and with a giggle, your friend batted her eyelashes at him.
”It’s all mine, Frank. Make yourself at home, okay?” she replied with a casual brush against his arm, completely innocent, and yet it had your blood boiling. This happened every time — guys always went for her, not you. You had been able to cope with it before, but Frank was… well, Frank. He wasn’t just a potential one night stand or a casual fling at all. He was special and you really, really cared for him.
You just couldn’t tell if the feeling was mutual.
”Oh, I love this song!” your friend cheered when another pop song blasted through the speakers, and grabbing Frank’s hand, she began leading him to the living room for the homemade dance floor. You followed behind them, but stayed in the doorway, not really sure what to do with yourself as you watched her dance with her best efforts to get Frank in the mood, as well. If you hadn’t been so paralyzed with envy and insecurity, you would have laughed at the sight of him, stiff and out of place with his hands trying to find somewhere to be.
You shifted your jacket over your dress again, utterly uncomfortable around all these people, dressed in something you would have never worn otherwise. You felt out of place, too, and you had a hard time imagining that any of these people would care for a conversation with you. It felt like the walls were coming down on you, like it was getting a little harder to breathe, so you turned back to lock eyes on the one person who always grounded you — Frank.
Just as you did, you saw him finally placing his hands on her hips, and your heart sank. Before it could shatter into a million pieces, though, he gently and respectfully pushed her away, leaned down to whisper something in her ear, and then turned on his heel and headed directly your way. You straightened your position against the doorway and fiddled with your hands as he towered over you, his low voice barely audible through the music.
”Wanna get outta here?” he asked, and with an eager nod, you accepted his offer. The two of you aimed for the front door, but before you could make it, your friend grabbed your arm through the crowd and you turned back to face her, all the while Frank was still sneaking through all the dancing people and towards the door.
”Hey, I’m sorry, I would’ve never tried to dance with him like that if I had known”, she shouted over the music, and with a frown, you couldn’t say anything. Known what?
She kissed your cheek, and with that, she was gone again. Confused, you continued your way back to the entrance, where Frank awaited and offered his hand to you as soon as you were within reach. With warm cheeks, you accepted his gesture and took a gentle hold of his bigger hand, your heart racing in your chest as you strolled across the street and back to your car.
”Didn’t seem like you were havin’ the best time”, Frank finally spoke up, ”figured we could do somethin’ better.”
You looked up at him, but as soon as he turned to meet your gaze, you glanced away. ”Thank you, Frankie”, you chuckled. ”I guess I just always feel a little… inadequate in situations like that”, you added quietly, and with a frown, Frank looked at you again.
”How do you mean?” he wondered, and with a shrug, you subconsciously squeezed his hand.
”Not pretty enough. Not wild enough. Not fun enough. I dunno. I love her but I’ve never been like her or her other friends. I just don’t feel… Well, I guess enough was the key word here”, you elaborated, the words just pouring out of you, and anxiety slowly leaving your body along with them. The tension that built up in you through the night was finally exiting, and you felt like you could breathe again.
”Hey”, Frank grunted as the two of you reached your car, his hand still tightly holding onto yours when you stopped walking. ”I think you’re enough. You’re goddamn amazin’, actually. It probably ain’t gonna help much but I just need ya to know that I wouldn’t change a thing about you. I like you the way you are”, he continued, dead-serious, and as much was obvious from the stare he gave you — almost intimidating but you knew it was coming from a place of affection.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you broke into a soft smile. ”Thank you, Frank”, you hummed. He was about to let go and walk to his side of the car, but with a sudden rush of bravery, you stopped him. ”Hey, what did you tell her? When you left her on the dance floor?” you asked, supposing your friend’s cryptic comment may have had something to do with that. Your face felt hot and your stomach was full of butterflies, but Frank was just as casual as ever, even when he shared his confession with you.
”Told her what I just told you. I like you. You. Don’t wanna dance with anyone else”, he shrugged. Your smile faltered, and your first instinct was to wonder if he was messing with you, if they had figured out you had a crush on him and were now playing a cruel joke on you.
But then you remembered who you were looking at. He would have never done that to you, and he wouldn’t have lied to you. And the way he stared at you still, the way he stood by his words, meant he was completely serious and honest about his feelings.
”Really?” you whispered, and with a quiet laugh, Frank gave you a look.
”Gonna make me repeat it, girl?”
Giggling, you pursed your lips together in fake-thought. ”I might. It sounded good”, you teased before gulping and turning more serious. ”I like you too, you know”, you admitted, and with a smile spreading over his lips, Frank nodded. Slowly, he leaned over to you so he could press his lips against your forehead in a soft, loving kiss, and in an instant, your heart rested easy and you felt safe and at home.
”I was hoping you’d say that.”
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ENOUGH FOR ME ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: It’s Frank’s birthday and you just want him to know he’s important.
Warnings: Language, minor mention of injuries, mostly just fluff :)
Word count: 1.3k
Author’s note: Happy Frank Castle Day <33 Just a small break from all the trauma content to celebrate our best guy’s birthday with something fluffy and friends-to-lovers adjacent. Enjoy :)
”It’s your birthday?!” Your voice was nothing short of shocked as you looked up from Frank’s bloody abdomen where your haphazardly done stitches adorned his toned body, your eyes scanning his for any sign of humor, but he stared back at you completely serious and unwavering. He had just made an off-handed comment about turning forty-four, and the admission had shaken you to your core — you didn’t even have a card for him!
”Yeah”, Frank shrugged, ”it ain’t that big of a deal, sweetheart.”
You were positively astounded and, with all your might, entirely of another opinion. The man did so much for the city, for people like you — whether they appreciated or not — and the least he deserved was some appreciation in return. You tried your best to show him some without crossing any lines, as you were still just friends, after all. And surely, had you only known, you would have gotten something for his special day, or at least gotten ahead of him and wished him a happy birthday to make sure he knew he was remembered and thought of.
Instead, he had been fighting all night and gotten a nasty wound from a knife on his stomach, leaving him bleeding on your couch, like it was any other sucky night.
”You don’t like celebrating it?” you questioned, supposing that he had had plenty of traditions with his family, and that his celebrating of the occasion had died with them. You were pretty sure he knew that was a part of your question, at least the look he gave you was one of the obvious kind, but he still graced you with an answer.
”Nah. I don’t hate it, but I dunno”, he contemplated, ”just doesn’t feel that important. Curt comes over a beer usually and that’s about it.” You nodded while handing his shirt back over to him and starting to pack up the first-aid kit on your coffee table.
”So… would you mind if I did something small next year?” you asked sheepishly, the gift-giver and avid acts-of-service person inside you itching to come out. Somehow, Frank had become one of the most important people in your life, and to you, his birthday felt like an occasion to mark in some way, at least.
”You think you’re gonna be starin’ at my ugly mug for a whole ’nother year?” he grinned while pulling his shirt over his head. The self-deprecating joke got a disapproving look from you, and he simply chuckled. ”Sure. If you really want to. But you gotta tell me your birthday, too.”
So you did. And exactly a year later, on his forty-fifth birthday, you had lived up to your promise. You suspected he had forgotten all about it in the past 364 days, but at least it would make it an even sweeter surprise.
”Would love it if you came over tonight. No pressure, it’s not life-or-death. Just thought we could hang.” You sent your text message to him before you could overthink it too much. Should he not turn up, the worst case scenario was that you’d get to eat an entire cake by yourself — not a half-bad situation to find yourself in.
But, despite his tendency to only show up after getting himself in trouble, he ended up sending you a text message back.
”I’ll be there.”
As the hours ticked by, you realized you maybe should have agreed on a time. Nonetheless, you refused to let sleepiness take over, even when midnight dragged over and your jaw stretched with a yawn. You had spent the entire evening switching between your living room couch and the kitchen counter, impatient and nervous about how the night would unfold — a part of you hoped he would be surprised, but there was no telling if it would be a good surprise or not.
It was nearly 1 AM when there was a knock at your door, and you came to life at the sound. You rushed to answer the door, a sincere smile curling your lips high up when you found Frank waiting on the other side, a bottle of wine in his hands and a curious look in his eyes. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realized the coyness in your message, and how he may have interpreted it, but you surely didn’t oppose whatever ideas he was coming over with.
”You okay? I know you said it ain’t anythin’ serious, but…”, he wondered while stepping across the threshold and shrugging off his jacket. You carried the wine bottle into the kitchen, and he followed you, only stopping when he saw all the food you had prepared. ”Shit. Guess it’s good I came prepared”, he added, and you chuckled nervously.
”I’m okay. I just wanted to do something for you”, you confessed, twisting your fingers as you watched him take it all in and process.
”You really didn’t have to, sweetheart”, he chuckled before licking his lips and tilting his head at you, ”what’s the occasion?”
You stared back at him, trying to discern whether or not he was messing around with you, but his eyes seemed honestly surprised and maybe even a hint confused. ”It’s—it’s your birthday, Frank”, you stammered, your internal alarm bells going off. Shitshitshit, it’s too much, you did way too much!
Frank covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh. ”Goddamn. It is, ain’t it? Shit. I haven’t been keepin’ track of the days at all lately”, he snorted, and at his amused reaction, you managed to relax a little. Maybe it wasn’t a lost cause yet.
”Yeah, so… I didn’t want to do anything too overwhelming. I just thought I could feed you for once and—and there’s cake for dessert”, you explained hesitantly, and if only you hadn’t avoided his gaze, you would have seen his eyes visibly soften, his lips twitching with a small smile.
”Hey, that’s really fuckin’ sweet of you. Wow. Dunno what I did to deserve this”, Frank exhaled, a little taken aback but letting his smile take over — a good sign in your books. Even more so was the way he stepped over to you and gently cradled your head so he could kiss your forehead, brief but sweet and definitely welcoming blush to your face.
”You didn’t have to do anything, Frank. But for the record, you do a whole lot. You keep this city safe. You keep me safe. You bring so much peace to more people than I can even imagine, and you don’t get any thanks for it. And beyond that… you’re a good friend. And a good person. And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really appreciate and cherish you and I—I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore”, you rambled away, your heartrate picking up when he chose to stay right in front of you, his hand fallen to your neck as he stood only inches away.
Frank nodded slowly. ”No one’s told me anythin’ like that in a long time”, he admitted quietly, and for a second, you wondered if you had broken a boundary. ”Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t tell you what it means to me”, he continued, however, calming your nerves just enough to crack a smile at him.
”Well, we might have to reheat the food but it’s a good thing you brought this over”, you cleared your throat and gestured at the wine, and with a soft chuckle, Frank nodded.
”Hey”, he spoke once more, and instinctively, you looked up at him, despite the immense feeling of vulnerability that rendered you silent under his gaze. ”I’preciate you, too.”
With a shy smile, you placed a hand over his heart, and hoped to radiate all the warmth, gratitude and love you had for him.
”Happy birthday, Frank.”
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