A Girl Can Dream

18+ content ~ Frank Castle Fanfic ~ 30s- Written with inclusivity in mind | Minors DNI

[agirlcandream84]

MASTER LIST

📣 REQUESTS are open | I’m always happy to receive requests and do my best to get to as many as I can. However, it’s not possible for me to answer every one. Apologies if I don’t manage to get to yours and thank you for reading <3. Note: My thoughts on Jon Bernthal’s political and personal beliefs. 

FRANK CASTLE

One-Shot: Where There is Light, Back to You, Breakable Goods (Part 2 here), Without You, Please Baby

Drabbles: How Frank Would Handle You Getting Overstimulated, How Frank Would React to Bruising You, How Frank Would React to You Not Resting When You Should, How Frank Would React to Scaring the Shit Out of You, How Frank Would Respond to You Being Jealous of Karen, Boyfriend!Frank x Reader During a Heat Wave, Angsty!Frank x Self Sabotaging!Reader, Frank Decides To See How any Times You Can Cum, Riptide: Frank Saves You At The Beach, Frank X Emotionally Insecure Reader, Frank X Shy!Reader Smut (soft dom), Frank Discovers the Power of Praise, Frank Castle x Small-chested Reader, Let Frankie Fix It, Your Ex Attacks and Frank Avenges, Frank x Big-Chested Reader, Thigh-Riding Frank Castle, Frank x Pregnant Reader, Punisher!Frank x Reader, Giving Frank a Blowjob, Frank Gets Consent and It’s Hot as Hell, Frank x Anxious!Reader, Frank Catches Deep Feelings, Frank x Reader with Asthma, When YOU dom Frank (briefly), Frank x Reader Breakup, Frank takes care of you when you have a sunburn, Frank Treats Your Heat Exhaustion, When Billy Flirts With You, When You Self Isolate, Frank Uses a Wand on You, Frank Gets Jealous, Shower Sex With Frank, Frank Finds Your Smutty Books, Making Frank Feel Flustered, A Quickie In The Car with Frank, When Frank Likes It Rough, When You Wrestle with Frank, When Frank Hurts You During Sex, Frank When You Have an Allergy Attack, Frank Proves He Can Lift You, Frank When You’ve Had a Bad Day, More Sex Pollen, Frank When You Have a Panic Attack, Frank and Periods, Phone Sex with Frank, Frank and You Have a Fight (angst), More Frank and Squirting, Frank Helps Your Zoomies, You Pack Frank’s Lunches, Frank Protects You From Himself, When You Get Frank’s Initials Tattooed, Frank x Bingeing!Reader, Car Sex with Frank, Frank Reacts When You Cry During Sex, When You Get In a Bar Fight, Waking Frank Up With Head, When Frank Castle Cries, Frank Fucks You Back to Sleep, Frank x Virgin!Reader, Frank Fucks You to Sleep, Acts of Service!Reader, Period Sex with Frank, Stitched Up, When Frank Gets Too Bossy, Feral Angsty Sex with Frank. Feeling Frank Deep in Your Belly, When You Hump Frank in Your Sleep, Frank comforts you through trauma

Boyfriend!Frank: The First Time Frank Chokes You, Boyfriend!Frank Goes Feral at Your New Perfume (smut), When Frank Goes Too Hard in the Bedroom (smut, angst), Boyfriend!Frank is Not Pleased With Your Choice to Diet, Times When Boyfriend!Frank Has Been Mad At You, Boyfriend!Frank When You’re on Your Period, Boyfriend!Frank and Goth!Reader, SoftDom!Frank, Boyfriend!Frank Reacts to You Ex Contacting You, Boyfriend!Frank x Clumsy!Reader, Boyfriend!Frank x Dieting!Reader Who Passes Out, Boyfriend!Frank x Concussed Reader, Boyfriend!Frank x WFH Sick Reader, Boyfriend!Frank Is Constantly Picking You Up, Boyfriend!Frank Takes Care of Your Mosquito Bites, More Frank x Clumsy Reader, Frank x OCD!Reader, Frank x PMS Reader, Frank x Austic!Reader, Frank x Birthday Reader, Frank x Pierced Reader, Frank Tames a Brat, Frank x Overworked Reader, Frank Helps You Shave, Frank Comforts You During a Storm, Frank in Public, Frank Teaches You To Drive, Frank Does Aftercare, Frank When You Forget To Eat, MORE Frank x PMS Reader, Frank x Depressed Reader, Frank Has Decided You Can’t Lift Heavy Things, Boyfriend!Frank Discovers Your Speeding Ticket, Frank x Carsick Reader, Frank When You’ve Been Crying About Work, Celebrating Frank’s Birthday, Reverse Cowgirl with Frank, Frank x Chronic Pain!Reader, Frank x Feisty but Shy!Reader, Frank is a Grump When You Have Your Period, You Use the Safe Word With Frank, When Your Try to Fake an Orgasm, When Frank Sleeps on the Couch, Frank x Birthday!Reader, Frank x Emotional!Reader, Frank Talks You Through It, When Frank Gets Rough (non-HC), Prone Position with Frank, Frank When Your Mom Calls You Fat (angst, smut)

Neighbor!Frank: Neighbor!Frank Saves the Day , Neighbor!Frank is a Daddy When You Come Home Drunk, PART TWO: Neighbor!Frank is a Daddy When You Come Home Drunk, Neighbor!Frank Ties Your Shoe and It’s Hot, Neighbor!Frank Bails You Out of Jail, Neigbor!Frank When There’s An Apartment Fire, When you tell Neighbor!Frank “I’m so fucking horny”, Neighbor!Frank When You Can’t Sleep, Neighbor!Frank Likes You Soft, Frank Comforts You During a Storm, Neighbor!Frank When You Hurt Yourself, When You Make Neighbor!Frank Dinner, Neighbor!Frank Watches You Go On a Date, Neighbor!Frank Sees Through Your Window, Frank Teaches You to Parallel Park, The Scream (angtsy), A Smudge (angst), Neighbor!Frank Meet-Cute, Two Taps, When you send Neighbor!Frank Nudes (Unsend fic), When You Call Neighbor!Frank Drunk, When Neighbor!Frank Thinks You’re in Trouble, When you cry during sex, When you slip in the shower, When your boyfriend hits you, When your date stands you up, The Gray Expanse (when you make Frank cry), Neighbor!Frank Yearning For You

Daddy!Frank: When You Get Jealous, Daddy!Frank Edges His Girl, Daddy!Frank Makes you Bleed, Daddy!Frank x Hypersexual Reader, Daddy!Frank at the Nail Salon, Daddy!Frank Headcanons, Daddy!Frank x Perv/Hypersexual Reader, Daddy!Frank Adjusts Your Attitude (Spanking), When You Call Frank Papa, When Daddy!Frank Makes You Squirt, Face Taps with Daddy!Frank, Daddy!Frank x Anxious!Reader, Daddy!Frank Goes Slow Because He’s So Big, Face Fucking with Frank, Pillow Humping With Daddy!Frank, Car Sex with Daddy!Frank

Ex!Frank: Ex!Frank Has Had Enough of Your Antics, Ex!Frank Still Takes Care of You, Ex!Frank Holds You Accountable, You Pay Ex!Frank and Unexpected Visit, Ex!Frank Makes You Feel Better, Believe Me (angst,smut), Frank Grovels for Forgiveness (subby Frank)

Headcanons: Boyfriend!Frank, More Boyfriend!Frank, Even more Boyfriend Frank Headcanons, Impossibly More Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons, Somehow more Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons, Yes, More Headcanons, Boyfriend!Frank Intimacy Headcanons, How Boyfriend!Frank Nurses You Back to Health, Boyfriend Frank x Injured!Reader, Boyfriend!Frank Will Take Care of It, Frank and Body Image Headcanons, Frank Size Kink Headcanons, Frank Apologizing Headcanons, Frank x Plus Size Reader, Breeding Kink Frank, Obsessed!Reader Headcanons, More Size Kink Headcanons, Frank at the Airport, Frank If You Have Body Dysmorphia, Franks Versions When You Have PMS, Feral Frank Headcanons, Old Fashioned Headcanons, Frank x Hypersexual!Reader Headcanons, Frank x Perv!Reader, Frank x Princess!reader Headcanons, Frank Hand Headcanons, More Feral Frank Headcanons, How Frank Helps You Fall Asleep, Daddy!Frank Headcanons, Old Man Frank Castle Headcanons, More Size Kink Headcanons, Frank Castle C*** Headcanons, Frank Castle Anal Headcanons, More Frank Castle Headcanons, Frank Castle When You’re Home Alone, Giving Frank Head Headcanons, Oral Fixation Headcanons, Frank Babying You Headcanons, “Perverted” Frank Headcanons

Emoji Anon Claims: 🍋 | 🧃 |  🪼 | 🌺 | 🌸 | ✨ | 🌙 | 🦇 | 🪲 | 🌑 | 🖤 | 🗡️ | 🍙 | 🍅 |  🦋 | 🧸 | 🤍 

[agirlcandream84]

what if… reader catches frank jerking off? :D

Ok.

This is so hard for me to imagine because if you're together, as a couple, Frank would have so little reason to ever do it. Because even when he's desperate, he's desperate for you. Like, his hand ain't gonna cut it when he's experienced the real deal. It would be such an unappealing option for him. I honestly thing he'd rather wait. The desire isn't purely to feel pleasure, it's to feel YOUR pleasure. You're the whole point.

Now if I were being forced to imagine how it might play out if he did do that (against my headcanon lol), I think he wouldn't even remember to have shame lol.

You come home earlier than expected, dropping your bags and kicking off your shoes at the door. After a moment, you hear Frank grunting from the bathroom. It's so unexpected that you don't even think that he'd possibly be jerking off. You're confused and concerned so you call out a tentative, "Frank?" into the apartment but he can't hear you past the running the water.

You walk closer to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar as the moist air creeps into the hallway, and hear the frustrated grunting grow.

"Frank?" you offer again, nudging the door open enough to step inside, your eyes landing on Frank's silhouette in the shower. One hand splayed against the wet tile, the other fisting his thick cock. His head in bent low but even in silhouette, you know his eyes on scrunched shut. He's pumping his cock angrily, the motion looking like anything but pleasurable.

You gasp, and shriek "Frank!?," stunned at the tableau before you.

Frank's head flicks up, spotting your silhouette beyond the fogged glass and his shoulder slumps in relief.

"Sweetheart, thank fuck," he grunts, sliding open the door and stepping out, soaked and hard before you. "I'm actin' like a fuckin' animal here," he adds, staking toward you in quick steps, his wet hand lacing around your jaw to cup your head and planting a deep kiss on your lips.

You melt into the kiss regardless of the circumstances, and he presses his front to yours, his cock hard and strong and poking you in the belly. You shriek as your clothes get wet, pulling away to ask "Frank the hell are you doing?"

He swipes a hand down his face, shame crossing his expression for the first time. "Actin' like a fuckin' desperate prick sweetheart," he replies before pulling you back into him, kissing you deeply and exploring your mouth with his tongue.

You try to ask more questions, murmuring "F--frank" between heated kisses but he's persistent and needy, his erection pressing harder against you until you feel the familiar pooling of wetness in your panties.

"Fuck, please lemme feel you baby," he murmurs in a tone you've never heard before. Desperate and clingy, adding "Been feelin' fuckin' crazy all day," with a huff. He pulls away long enough to look at you and ask, "That ok little mama? Gonna let me cum inside you?" his pupils blown and his eyes exploring yours like a "no" would make his soul leave his body.

You nod, eagerly, elated at the relief that washes over his face as he hunches and lifts you from behind the legs, his slick body pressed against you as he carries you to the bedroom.

[hellilovedit]

OH MY GOD????

I need more frank castle jerking off IMMEDIATELY

[agirlcandream84]

Tehehehehehhe

[hellilovedit]

Period Pains

Boyfriend!Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: A glimpse at how Frank helps with your period. 

MASTERLIST

Warnings: periods, hormonal crying, descriptions of period blood, grumpy lovey bf Frank, non-sexual nudity, mentions of Frank's dead wife. wanted to make this longer bc there's nothing Frank wouldn't do for you on your period, but my brain is not braining. 18+ only, MDNI, reader always 18+.

w/c: 3704

requested by anon! 

“It hurts all the way down in my toes,” you whine, cheeks flushed red from incessant pain, steam fogging the dark shower. Lights off, Frank’d said, keeps it quiet, yeah? And you didn’t have energy to question, argue, or agree. Just went with it, ending up naked in a dark, skin-melting shower with the curtain rustling behind you where Frank steps in. 

The pain… God, it moves you. An inescapable writhe, desperate to crawl out of your own skin as your uterus cramps, shooting agony down, out, all around. 

“I feel it in my teeth, it hurts so bad, Frank.” You sniffle into the downpour of the shower, palming a hand at the bloated round of your tummy where your reproductive organs have never been angrier. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Frank stands behind you—hulking mass filling most of the shower—one big hand sliding under yours to hold your stomach, the other easing your shoulder down so you’re bent a bit. “Frankie’ll take care ‘a you, yeah? C’mon. Turn ‘round f’me, pretty girl.” 

You listen. A timid waddle. Water pelts your lower back, beating the skin red. The heel of his hand drills slow, heavy circles on each side of your tailbone until you relinquish a breath you’ve been clutching since your period woke you up at two in the morning. 

“Feel good?” he asks, the gravel rumble of his voice vibrating the shower walls. 

“Yeah,” you nod little bits, arms knotted up and curled in front of your chest to keep your aching breasts from moving. “How’d you know to try this?” Weakly whispered, your eyes on the tub, his bigger feet a shadow to yours. 

Hair matted over his forehead, Frank tips his head to the side, jaw tight in contemplation. Now seems like a bad time to tell you that’s what he did for Maria when she was in labor. Off-set the pressure, apply heat, touch… 

“Jus’ do,” he says simply, and it’s all you need. 

He just does. No explanation needed. It’s not one he cares to share. It’s not one you necessarily want to discuss right now. Bleeding, your uterine lining shedding, pained and punished for being empty. 

Legs twisted in, knees wobbling together from contractual pain, you hunch in front of Frank as he kneads your lower back for what feels like hours. The water never runs cold. Frank’s hands never leave your body. His touch… it’s like praise, or- or encouragement, or even sympathy he can’t offer more. Either way… it’s healing. 

When temporary relaxation opens your muscles, you feel it. 

The dreaded drop. 

No. 

Oh no. 

Nononononono. 

A quick gloop exiting your body before you can squeeze your legs shut, spine snapping upright with a gasp as you spin to face him, the drain. 

“Shit,” you hiss, flinging Frank’s hands off before you stick your own hand between your thighs, cupping the clot as it falls. “Oh- oh my god, Frank, I’m so sorry, I— usually the water stops it—”

“Hey. Easy.” A command with a placating lowering of his hands, signaling used for abused animals. “Put the hand down, sweetheart. C’mon.”

“But I’m- I’m gonna get—”

“Yeah. S’gonna go where it needs t’go, huh?S’jus’ a lil’ blood. Don’t bother me none. I can handle blood, hm? Already in the shower, princess. Gonna go right down the drain. Ain’t hurtin’ nothin’.” 

O…kay…

Right. He’s right. 

You’re… in the shower. 

It can fall. You can… rinse your hand… Rinse clean… Light so low you can’t really even see it, just… okay. Even though it’s gonna get on his feet and—

“Just- just let it…?” A tentative peeling away of your shaking hand. 

“Go.” 

“Ah, ew, I can’t believe—” Face pinched, bloodied fingers flexed in front of your stomach, you let it go with Frank’s hands smoothing back-and-forth arcs over your shoulders. 

“Sh-sh. S’alright. S’okay.” 

Crimson streaks part the insides of your thighs, a slow crawl down. Thinning rills at your knees, water diluting it over your ankles. 

At your feet—his and yours—the intensity of the blood disperses, cut by water. Pale-pink cascades down around Frank’s feet, then swirls at the drain. The glugs echo your mortification.

It’s no big deal to Frank. He turns, the dense cut of muscle shifting as he reaches overhead, pulling the shower head down. Rinses off your knees, your feet, the splatters in the tub. 

“Lemme clean you up, huh?” Hand readied with the head, but never approaching before you allow. “Clean you up. Get you outta here. Fresh pad ‘n fresh clothes waitin’ on the sink f’you. You like the sound ‘a that?” 

Reservation at being seen at one of your most vulnerable, naturally unattractive moments, arms draped around yourself, you nod. 

“Yeah?” Frank asks, a brow raised. “Words, baby. Gotta use words. Gotta hear you say it.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, consent amplified in the water. “Please.” 

“Turn f’me.” 

You do. Stiff-legged, but willing, flexing your abdomen to lock up anything else that might try to slip out. 

Frank comes behind you again. Your back to his chest. A gentle brush to let you know he’s there so you can settle back. Soft skin to a wall of muscle. Water sluices between your bodies as he adjusts the shower head in his hold. 

“Relax,” a hushed order. “Got you. Ain’t gotta hide. Seen all ‘a you. This ain’t any different.” 

“No, I know…” Warmth (him, the water) melting your self-consciousness, your head tips back against his shoulder. “I’ve just… never had someone do this before. Or offer to do it. Or see my used pad and not gag. I get it, it’s gross—”

Frank snorts. “Ain’t gross.” 

“It is, a little.” Your stomach gives a reflexive jolt as Frank brings the water over it, then down between your thighs to clean you. “It’s icky weird colored vagina blood with chunks in it.”

“Shittin’ your pants’s gross. The blood ain’t.” 

You puff a laugh. “You have such a way with words…” 

“Told you I got you.” Frank stamps a rough kiss to your temple as his chaste fingers smooth a washcloth where he’s offered to clean. “Means I got this, too. Nothin’ that oughta make you feel any kinda way, alright? Got you, pretty girl.” 

After he’s showered, Frank leaves you in to relish in the last few minutes of hot water. Excuses himself to dry off, grab your hot towel from the dryer, get your stuff ready. 

Towel knotted at his hip, Frank dries you off. Pats you down with hands that are naturally rough, but slow and practice the art of being gentle when he touches you. 

You don’t lift a finger. Frank hasn’t even dressed yet. You’re thee priority. 

He lays your down pad right in your cotton briefs. Doesn’t even make fun of you for the grandma undies. Just sticks on the heavy duty pad, and lets you use his shoulders for support as he helps you step into them. Guides you into your pajamas. Oversized everything. Waistband loose around your stomach. Topped off with your favorite sweatshirt of his. And… a kiss. 

Syrupy slow. Soft lips latching. The graze of his stubble scratching the corner of your mouth. Your hands drift up the shower-warm plane of his chest. Hell, your foot even kicks off the ground, your chest flooding with sleepy gratitude. 

Frank holds your hips with such intentional care your throat goes tight. This man gives you every bit of extra TLC you need. If you ask him, it’s the bare minimum of what you deserve. 

Frank’s first to separate, but he doesn’t go far. 

His forehead leans to yours, big nose rubbing the slightest nod of affection over yours. “Why don’ you go check the freezer, huh? Mighta got somethin’ f’you in there.” 

You perk, staying close. “Ice cream?” 

“Ain’t tellin’. Gotta go look.” 

With a swift swat to his ass, you scamper off with a wild grin just as Frank scoffs a chuckle, shakes his head. 

Snapping the towel of his hips, Frank bites the inside of his cheek to keep his smirk in line. 

The freezer door rolls open. 

He looks down, around. Anywhere but the mirror. 

“YOU GOT ME THE ALDI FROZEN SUSHI!?” You scream in pure delight, walls rattling with the intensity of such a simple pleasure. “THAT’S MY FAVORITE!” 

As he swipes on deodorant, kept secret by distance… Frank Castle laughs. 

Heating pad draped over your stomach, you hole up in the nook of the couch. Wedged between the armrest and a cushion, burritoed so tight in a blanket you can hardly move, thanks to Frank. 

He lounges beside you, propped on an elbow, legs sprawled clear off the other end of the sofa. Through the slit of the burrito, though, his hand pushes more deep, intentional circles over your lower belly, drifting occasionally to your to breasts to soothe the ache while you watch Up.

Why you chose Up is beyond you, but you need a good cry. This’ll do nicely. 

“…This Ellie kid seems like a crackhead,” Frank grumbles. 

You sputter out a laugh. “Aw, come on, it’s cute.” 

“Cute? Where’s her goddamn shoes? ‘N her parents? Runnin’ ‘round like she’s bein’ raised by fuckin’ wolves.” 

Ten minutes in, you’re already a wreck.

Silent tears spilling down your cheeks, mouth seizing as you clamp your teeth down to fight a full blown ugly sob, hot and sweaty under the blanket from the sheer volume of fucking sadness.

On screen, Ellie sits in a wheelchair in the doctor’s office, Carl behind her as her lifetime supporter as the doctor tells them… What? You don’t know, exactly. But you can infer. Maybe she lost the baby. Maybe she cannot conceive. Either way… your heart breaks for Ellie, for another woman that so desperately wants a baby it ruins her when her body refuses to give it. 

Like a dog sensing your pain before seeing it, Frank’s hand falters. One second. One second is all it takes for Frank to sense the pinch in the air, the vibrating restraint of you trying to keep your shit together and failing miserably. From the corner of his eye, his gaze creeps to you in sections. 

“…Baby,” a plea to reason, “we don’t gotta watch it. Lemme turn it off, huh? S’all backstory ‘n you’re cryin’. Ain’t gonna have that.” Frank says, as if he’s planning on researching the director to ensure punishment for your emotional distress, already reaching for the remote with the hand warmed by your stomach. 

“No!” You lash a hand from the abyss of your blanket wrap, seizing his wrist. “No, please. I love this movie. It’s- yeah, it’s sad, but… in a good way. A really, really good way… I mean, how lucky would we be to—” it gets you. The mere concept, raw in your throat. You stuff your fist to your mouth, eyes red hot as you stare at the potted plant in the corner instead of the movie. For safety reasons. Softer now, you manage: “…How lucky would we be to love someone our whole lives? ……That’s worth the tears. It’s beautiful.” 

His throat pulls a thick swallow, eyes blinking away. “Yeah,” he gruffs, needing nothing more to say he agrees. Say, is the keyword. “Alright. Movie stays.” Grumbled lower to dismiss his own reaction, “...Goddamn sadist.” 

Minutes later… the idyllic story of love and life’s hardships comes to a full head. The inevitable outcome for all of us. 

Death.

Ellie in her hospital bed, reading through their adventures. The fucking balloon. And then…

Carl holding the balloon at the love of his life’s funeral.

Alone. 

This is Carl’s entire existence now. Alone. His best friend, his wife, his everything… gone. 

Biting the stitching of the blanket to keep from screaming (pain, gut-wrenching sadness), it hits you. The realization. And it fucking chokes you. 

Frank. 

He’s unusually quiet. His hand’s stopped massaging. His eyes stare through the bottom corner of the television because he fucking gets it. 

Frank... never got to grieve. He woke up alone when he shouldn’t have woken up at all, and… God, it makes sense.

You can understand loss, death, mourning… You can’t understand losing your entire life in the span of one second. One second and they’re all… gone. Kids he was supposed to watch grow. A wife he vowed to love, ‘til death do them part. Not written in those vows is the promise to love them long after death, into eternity. 

The thoughts parch your throat, wet your mouth with sobs you squeeze behind your teeth.  

And when—out of anger, possession—Carl whacks the construction worker who manhandled his special mailbox, a piece of Ellie, one of the last things he can hold onto… it clicks. Loss is an ugly wound that only festers deeper. It never heals. Grief is an impenetrable agony. And Frank… Frank has three ugly wounds that only ever blister infection, the depths of his agony something most men never fathom. 

“Alright, s’enough,” Frank huffs, voice rougher than usual, as he lugs himself for the remote. “You’re sittin’ here bawlin’. Ain’t havin’ it.” 

Catching him halfway off the couch, you hurl yourself at him. Your arms belt around his waist, face hiding into his hip as you fervidly shake your head with adamant “no, no, no’s” to go along with it.

Trapped with his ass off the couch, knees still bent, he raises both unamused brows as you blubber. 

“No, stop. I need—” a hiccuped cry, “need to cry, okay? Just lemme get it out. Sit down. Please sit down and hold me. I’m sorry, Frankie. I’m so, so sorry. Don’t go. Please don’t go. Don’t turn it off. I’m sorry—”

“F’what?” He drops back down onto the couch, cushions groaning under his weight. “Ain’t nothin’ t’be sorry f’. Christ. Jus’... c’mon. C’mere. Frankie’s gotcha, princess.” 

He doesn’t realize you’re crying for him. 

Frank paws you down, blanket cocoon and all. Crams himself as far back against the cushions as he can on his side, situating you down in front of him. Big fingers swipe the tears off your face. Your eyes dart around, but no place is safe from your hormonal fluctuations. 

When your face dries and your chest hitches remnants of your sobs, Frank’s hand weasels through the blanket again, finding home on the heating pad over your stomach. The massaging starts again. Strong fingers work. 

Lips pudged in a pout, eyes misty, you watch the movie from the safety of Frank’s embrace. And for a bit…? You even forget it feels like your insides are being shredded with meat cleavers. 

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you drift. Through the discomfort curling your toes, tears dried but sticky on your cheeks, the pulsing throb radiating in your hips… you rest. 

Frank’s got you. 

While you sleep, Frank keeps caressing. Keeps watching the movie with more interest now that he’s got the privacy. Every few minutes, he dips his head down. Presses soft, lingering kisses to your clammy forehead like he knows he’s on borrowed time and pleads with the universe anyway. Looks down at you when he’s not watching the movie. Your lips faintly parted, a line between your brows because the pain won’t relent, not even in sleep. 

Over the speakers Russell says, “That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most.” 

“Yeah, kid,” Frank says with his eyes squeezed shut, a rough murmur on your forehead. “Yeah, me too.” 

Around the time they find the dumb fuckin’ bird and the annoying ass dog (that Frank absolutely loves and will never admit to) you’re out cold.

Now, he can think about the past. Maria. Doesn’t feel right, doing it in front of you. Thinking about her, sometimes. This time, though… it’s not about the grueling torment of missing her… He looks down at you and he sees a future. 

On the screen, Carl finds the last message from his wife.

Thanks for the adventure — now go have a new one!  

Reverence reserved for the holy, Frank rests his forehead against your temple. 

“Hope this’s alright,” he whispers to no one but the idea of his deceased wife, arms tightening around you to keep you. “‘Cause she’s perfect. Ain’t no way ‘m lettin’ ‘er go now.” 

He’ll ask Maria for a sign later. That it’s okay. That he’s allowed to love someone else. That he isn’t doing wrong by her. 

Maria’s a good woman. 

Frank knows she’d love you too. 

The text was two hours ago. You hadn’t checked your phone since. Too engrossed in Brokeback Mountain to care about existence outside of two homosexual cowboys absolutely meant to be together. Again, terrible emotional decision for a movie. You tried it for the tent scene. You didn't think you'd be emotionally, spiritually, and mentally destroyed because of it.

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock. 

The knock—that heavy, intentional code only Frank’s fist can make—lugs you off the couch and away from Ennis and Jack. 

“Coming,” you call, announcement wobbly with pain. Fingertips pushing your enraged ovary back into place, you scuffle for the door. 

Air drags through your hair as you swing open the front door to the apartment to Frank standing there with a grocery bag, cellophane wrapped flowers, and a box of—

“Uhm…” you bubble a laugh, amusement crinkling your face. “Frank… What’s with the hot wings?” 

Fatigue blunting his expression from the night, Frank’s eyes bore into yours, waiting for the punchline. Flowers clamped in a tight fist, grocery bag dangling his on wrist, and a damp box of takeout… the punchline is absolutely him.

When it doesn’t come, his brows lift. “You said pads.” He lifts the bag. “‘N wings,” and the box. “Brought’chu pads. ‘N wings. Like you asked. Don’ be playin’ with me now, sweetheart, hm?” 

Oh… 

So he definitely didn’t get the right memo… 

Cheeks inflating with an undeniable laugh at him (sorry, Frank, it’s all in good humor), you bow your head to hide. Wrapped around the door for support, you open it more and usher him in. 

With the patience of a man who broke every law trying to get back here—so none, no patience left—Frank stalks in. 

“Ain’t sure what’s so funny,” Frank grumbles as he tosses the to-go box down on the kitchen counter. The plastic bag rustles as he yanks the package of pads out, slapping them down on the counter. “Got that look on your face.” 

Yeah. You do. And it’s still there as you lean your folded arms on the opposite side of the counter. A soundless snicker lifts your brows, mouth all wriggled in a grin you can’t control, waiting for Frank to catch onto the surprise of his greatest mistake yet. 

Items all sorted out in a meticulous row, Frank plants his hands wide on the counter and throws his deadpan glower at you. You know this look means incoming tangent and you’re gonna bust laughing soon. “Chris’sakes. Bring the pretty girl flowers.”

You gulp down a laugh. Frank’s still going. 

“Pads. Wings.”

Pads and wings, you decide not to correct, which is not what you asked for. Tears prickle your eyes because it’s too fucking funny. 

“Shit she asked f’. Be the good boyfriend. Still gettin’ my ass clowned. See? See that shit, huh? Laughin’ at me right now. Fuckin’ Christ. Day I had, ‘m gonna eat these wings ‘cause they’re gettin’ cold while you’re laughin’—”

“F-Frank.” You belt out his name in a fit, both hands plastered to your stomach so your ovaries don’t explode while you crack up. “Frank, baby, I meant pads with wings. Like the little thingys on the sides of the pads, not actual hot wings.” 

His brows immediately pinch down, thinking, thinking, thinking… Realization hits. His hand comes up to press his fingers into his eyes. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…”

You can’t help it. Genuinely, you can’t. The laughter, how unbridled and full-bodied it is. 

You asked for winged pads, and you were hand delivered buffalo wings as a side to your feminine products. 

“…Y’know how long ‘s been since I got pads? Shit.” Frank flings a hand at the assortment of goods. “You got pads with extra wings. Go nuts.” 

Weak with laughter, you shuffle up to him. The big, bad Punisher with pink ears and a stare looking anywhere but you as he huffs and curses and paws the flowers at you. 

You hum-sigh contentment in the come down, looping your arms around his neck where the cold clings to his jacket. “Oh, Frankie… I love you. I love these, too. Oh, and these,” as you’re pointing out the flowers, the wings. “And these?” jabbing the pads, “these definitely work. So thank you.” 

He grumbles, the pink tinge traveling to his neck now, too. “Yeah, yeah… ain’t nothin’. Don’t make it somethin’. Jus’ sit your ass down ‘n eat, alright?” 

You both end up at the counter together, stabbing the mound of hot wings Frank brought back for his girl. The wings get eaten. The flowers get trimmed and sorted into a vase. The pads get used—and appreciated. 

The night ends with full stomachs and your midnight giggles in bed. Because, obviously, you’re not gonna stop giving him hell. Your backside tugged into Frank’s chest. His face buried in the back of your neck, lips grazing lazy kisses, gravel-rough teasing thrown back at you. 

Your legs curled to your chest, everything aching but you’ve persevered the worst, you link your fingers through Frank’s resting over your stomach. 

“That feelin’ better?” he asks, thumb tapping your tum. 

“Mhm,” your hair rasps the pillow as you nod. “Much better. I think the pads and wings helped.” 

“Christ. Dunno why I bother.” 

He’s teasing. You know he is. 

“‘Cause you love me and I’m your girl.” 

Frank softens behind you with a sigh from his nose. “Yeah, pretty girl. Yeah, that sounds ‘bout right. Love you. Even ‘f you’re a pain in my ass.” 

You beam in the darkness of the room, your smile-taut cheeks smooshing the pillow. “Thank you, Frankie…” you whisper, soft with sincerity. “For… everything. I love you so much. I dunno what I’d do without you.” 

“Get the right pads, pro’lly.” 

You nudge your shoulder back into him. 

He snorts. 

“Get some rest, pretty girl. Goin’ f’a walk tomorrow, hm? Walk off some ‘a that pain. Good f’you, y’know?” 

You’re out in minutes. 

Best period ever, if there is such a thing.

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[agirlcandream84]

ACTUALLY HOW ABOUT STOP BEING A BETTER WRITER THAN I COULD EVER DREAM TO BE, HOW ABOUT THAT?!

(Staring into the middle distance and thinking about the shower part until I black out)

[agirlcandream84]

So I've been spending a lot of time inside bc we're currently in a heat wave where I am, and somehow I've STILL managed to get bug bites?? I think there must be one inside the house (which should be ILLEGAL) so here I am trying very hard not to scratch bc I am physically incapable of leaving itches alone. I just need Frank to slather me in hydrocortisone cream and keep my mind off of it and watch me like a hawk to stop me from scratching my skin raw 😭

Yeah you'd have two oven mitts duct-taped to your hands and calamine lotion on every bite and he'd rather help you to and from the bathroom than have your hands free to scratch.

He's not a monster so he doesn't make you sleep in the gloves. So he puts socks on your hands instead lmao. He manages to make himself half-sleep somehow-- like an aware state of sleeping-- where he can instinctually grab your wrists when one of your socked fists tries to scratch at your skin anyway.

[agirlcandream84]

hellew! i had very bad experience with contraceptive pills when i was younger and now im literally afraid of trying them again. also im scared of inverting implants. and im so anxious about talking with new partner about it.. like i feel so sorry for some reason and im like i could buy condoms myself, so... any thought about talking with frank about it? like "im sorry we constantly need to buy condoms" lol

girl what the hell is an inverted implant, im so scared.

Uh well, if Frank had his way and you were in a safe, longterm, consensual relationship, he'd be haaaaaapy as a clam with no condoms. Thats the way he likes it, it's the way he's always liked and it's the way he's always gonna like it. And it's not because he's being selfish and prioritizing his pleasure of yours. It's because he has a breeding kink lmao.

THAT SAID, if you were in need of protection, Frank prefers that you don't have to deal with the nightmare of female contraceptives. He'd be really uncomfortable with the list of side effects and lowkey worried about you all the time and he'd prefer to just take charge and handle the birth control details himself.

If you were to come home with an attempt to buy condoms for him the first time, Frank would find it completely unnecessary and absolutely adorable. You pull the box out of your purse and Frank's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he plucks the box from your hands. His face crumples into something like complete adoration as he tugs you against his chest, kissing the top of your head firmly and saying "You ain't ever gotta do that again doll. I've got it covered and I ain't ever gonna forget alright?" You nod against his chest, a sense of relief flooding you that you don't have to take the lead on those details.

He plants another kiss to the top of your head and says "Attagirl," holding you for a moment longer before adding, "These ain't gonna fit me anyway doll."

[agirlcandream84]

Hi darling! You already covered gender roles dynamics here, but I have another aspect in my mind. My mother is really altruistic in her relationships with my father (her mother and all women in my family is the same). It means doing everything for a man, while he's just drinking beer and watching football. So I had an idea: maybe Frank and the Reader inviting her parent over to their house and the mom starts bossing the Reader around, saying "why your man doing lady stuff" while Frank is like "i have hands i can chop veggies myself" or "i know how the dishwasher works i can do it myself". Any thoughts what can happen? hehe

I think Frank is a real charmer with parents and he's careful not to make family dynamics more difficult for you but getting too involved, unless the offense was too egregious.

Now, that's not to say that Frank wouldn't artfully deflect or defend, but he wouldn't outright pick a fight at little jabs.

So if your mom made a comment that you should be making dinner, Frank might say "Nah, I'm a bum ma'am, don't deserve to be waited on like that," while he gives you a wink and squeezes your hip.

Or if she says "That's a woman's role Frank. Why are you doing women's work?," Frank might say "What good am I if I can't do enough work for the both of us ma'am?" with the biggest and most charming grin on his face. He'd add "Your daughter is the hardest workin' woman I ever met. Must be real proud of her, huh?" and looking pointedly to your mom to demand a yes out of her.

He's really not stirring up trouble but he's not letting her get away with shit.

[agirlcandream84]

what if… reader catches frank jerking off? :D

Ok.

This is so hard for me to imagine because if you're together, as a couple, Frank would have so little reason to ever do it. Because even when he's desperate, he's desperate for you. Like, his hand ain't gonna cut it when he's experienced the real deal. It would be such an unappealing option for him. I honestly thing he'd rather wait. The desire isn't purely to feel pleasure, it's to feel YOUR pleasure. You're the whole point.

Now if I were being forced to imagine how it might play out if he did do that (against my headcanon lol), I think he wouldn't even remember to have shame lol.

You come home earlier than expected, dropping your bags and kicking off your shoes at the door. After a moment, you hear Frank grunting from the bathroom. It's so unexpected that you don't even think that he'd possibly be jerking off. You're confused and concerned so you call out a tentative, "Frank?" into the apartment but he can't hear you past the running the water.

You walk closer to the bathroom door, which is slightly ajar as the moist air creeps into the hallway, and hear the frustrated grunting grow.

"Frank?" you offer again, nudging the door open enough to step inside, your eyes landing on Frank's silhouette in the shower. One hand splayed against the wet tile, the other fisting his thick cock. His head in bent low but even in silhouette, you know his eyes on scrunched shut. He's pumping his cock angrily, the motion looking like anything but pleasurable.

You gasp, and shriek "Frank!?," stunned at the tableau before you.

Frank's head flicks up, spotting your silhouette beyond the fogged glass and his shoulder slumps in relief.

"Sweetheart, thank fuck," he grunts, sliding open the door and stepping out, soaked and hard before you. "I'm actin' like a fuckin' animal here," he adds, staking toward you in quick steps, his wet hand lacing around your jaw to cup your head and planting a deep kiss on your lips.

You melt into the kiss regardless of the circumstances, and he presses his front to yours, his cock hard and strong and poking you in the belly. You shriek as your clothes get wet, pulling away to ask "Frank the hell are you doing?"

He swipes a hand down his face, shame crossing his expression for the first time. "Actin' like a fuckin' desperate prick sweetheart," he replies before pulling you back into him, kissing you deeply and exploring your mouth with his tongue.

You try to ask more questions, murmuring "F--frank" between heated kisses but he's persistent and needy, his erection pressing harder against you until you feel the familiar pooling of wetness in your panties.

"Fuck, please lemme feel you baby," he murmurs in a tone you've never heard before. Desperate and clingy, adding "Been feelin' fuckin' crazy all day," with a huff. He pulls away long enough to look at you and ask, "That ok little mama? Gonna let me cum inside you?" his pupils blown and his eyes exploring yours like a "no" would make his soul leave his body.

You nod, eagerly, elated at the relief that washes over his face as he hunches and lifts you from behind the legs, his slick body pressed against you as he carries you to the bedroom.

[fic-dumpster]

[agirlcandream84]

A teensy bit of a self indulgent ask!

I’ve grown up in a pretty patriarchal family (courtesy of being Hispanic) so my brothers have always been allowed to get away with a LOT by my parents. Like actions and the way they talk

My older brother in particular has always been very demeaning with his comments about my behavior and physical appearance and I’m the bad guy for defending myself!

How would Frank react to such a dynamic? 🫣

quick question -- who is your brother and where does he live, i just wanna talk to him.

Ok but Frank has zero tolerance for this.

Maybe he witnessed it first hand at a family barbecue. He was meeting your extended family and while most of the interactions seemed innocuous enough, Frank picked up on the general sense that there was an unspoken hierarchy that he... wasn't a fan of.

In favor of keeping the peace for you, he bit his tongue when maybe he typically wouldn't. It was the little jabs here and there that compelled him to turn on the charm and redirect the conversation or place a firm hand on your low back and say "Wanna show me around the garden doll?" just to get you out of an annoying conversation.

But it's when your older brother made a comment about your body that Frank managed to make the summer barbecue feeling downright icy.

"Brave of you to wear that dress," your brother scoffs, using a finger to flick at the hem, "got a lot of skin on display don't you think? You think you're fit enough to be showing your arms like that?" he adds, his tone suggesting exactly what he thought.

This was enough to make Frank stiffen in rage, opening his mouth say something but your brothers speaks up again, saying "You always were the fatty in the family," with a hearty chuckle.

Just as the color is flushing your face, Frank plants a kiss firmly on your temple and stoops to murmur in your ear, "Go wait in the truck while I have a word with your brother, alright sweetheart?" He gives your hip a soft squeeze and gives you a nod to head to the car and you oblige, thankful for Frank's ability to read your mind.

Frank paints on his most charming smile and takes a step toward your brother, offering his hand and saying, "Don't think we've had a chance to formally meet. Frank," he says with an outstretched hand that your brother takes under the false pretense that Frank was someone in agreement with him, an ally. That belittling women was something all men did.

Frank grips his hand like a vice, yanking your brother toward him and pulling him off balance. Your brother tries to protest but it turns into a pained grunt as Frank smashes his fingers so thoroughly that the bones crack in his hand. Your brother hisses through his teeth at the pain and Frank keeps the smile on his face, his posture broad and comfortable, as he speaks quietly into your brother's ear, saying "I catch you speaking like that to your sister ever again, this is only an appetizer compared to the shit I'll do to you, understand?"

Your brother tries to protest, grasping for his remaining dignity but when Frank senses his resistance, he smashes further, bending the hand back at an unnatural angle at the wrist. Your brother lets out a string of explicatives as Frank adds, "I don't like waiting asshole. Am I understood?"

Your brother huffs out a desperate, "Y-yes, yes I understand." Frank releases his hand and claps a broad hand to your brother's back, barking "Smart man," in a friendly gesture completely at odds with the pain he just inflicted.

Your brother is panting out breaths, looking at Frank in terror and confusion. "Now go apologize to your beautiful sister jackass," Frank adds before stalking off toward the truck where you're waiting.

When the ordeal is over, Frank doesn't offer flowery reassurances or poetry to you. He places a firm hand on your thigh, starts the car and asks, "Lemme get you home sweetheart." You nod, knowing full well that your brother's scared apology was Frank's work and your heart swells. Frank spends the rest of the night showing you exactly what he loves about every damn inch of your body.

[cameroni1]

I MAY or may not have been the anon haha, love it!!

[agirlcandream84]

Yay!

[agirlcandream84]

y'all it feels good to be back doing my silly little blurbs about Frankie. Sometimes a girl just needs to fantasize and make herself tehehehe a little bit. I recommend!

[agirlcandream84]

OMG Frank being the school DILF is so accurate. I feel like he wouldn't even realize it unless you pointed it out lol

He'd have NO CLUE. He doesn't even know what DILF stands for. Completely clueless. Woman are dressed to the nines at school dropoff and it's all for Frank and he's oblivious. He keeps getting asked to do Room Mom duties and PTA and fundraising nights lolol. You're like "Frank it's because they think you're hot. You're the DILF."

"What'd you call me doll??" he asking all incredulous.

"D-I-L-F Frank," you laugh, "Dad I'd like to fuck," you explain.

"Well shit, why didn't you just say so sweetheart," Frank says, completely misunderstanding as he flings you over his shoulder and marches you toward the bedroom.

[agirlcandream84]

hello from the girl who lost the fic. update: i looked through your feed THREE times and found it, copied the link and saved in the iphone notes to never lose it again

btw, love you!

omg you are a TROOPER!!

[agirlcandream84]

A teensy bit of a self indulgent ask!

I’ve grown up in a pretty patriarchal family (courtesy of being Hispanic) so my brothers have always been allowed to get away with a LOT by my parents. Like actions and the way they talk

My older brother in particular has always been very demeaning with his comments about my behavior and physical appearance and I’m the bad guy for defending myself!

How would Frank react to such a dynamic? 🫣

quick question -- who is your brother and where does he live, i just wanna talk to him.

Ok but Frank has zero tolerance for this.

Maybe he witnessed it first hand at a family barbecue. He was meeting your extended family and while most of the interactions seemed innocuous enough, Frank picked up on the general sense that there was an unspoken hierarchy that he... wasn't a fan of.

In favor of keeping the peace for you, he bit his tongue when maybe he typically wouldn't. It was the little jabs here and there that compelled him to turn on the charm and redirect the conversation or place a firm hand on your low back and say "Wanna show me around the garden doll?" just to get you out of an annoying conversation.

But it's when your older brother made a comment about your body that Frank managed to make the summer barbecue feeling downright icy.

"Brave of you to wear that dress," your brother scoffs, using a finger to flick at the hem, "got a lot of skin on display don't you think? You think you're fit enough to be showing your arms like that?" he adds, his tone suggesting exactly what he thought.

This was enough to make Frank stiffen in rage, opening his mouth say something but your brothers speaks up again, saying "You always were the fatty in the family," with a hearty chuckle.

Just as the color is flushing your face, Frank plants a kiss firmly on your temple and stoops to murmur in your ear, "Go wait in the truck while I have a word with your brother, alright sweetheart?" He gives your hip a soft squeeze and gives you a nod to head to the car and you oblige, thankful for Frank's ability to read your mind.

Frank paints on his most charming smile and takes a step toward your brother, offering his hand and saying, "Don't think we've had a chance to formally meet. Frank," he says with an outstretched hand that your brother takes under the false pretense that Frank was someone in agreement with him, an ally. That belittling women was something all men did.

Frank grips his hand like a vice, yanking your brother toward him and pulling him off balance. Your brother tries to protest but it turns into a pained grunt as Frank smashes his fingers so thoroughly that the bones crack in his hand. Your brother hisses through his teeth at the pain and Frank keeps the smile on his face, his posture broad and comfortable, as he speaks quietly into your brother's ear, saying "I catch you speaking like that to your sister ever again, this is only an appetizer compared to the shit I'll do to you, understand?"

Your brother tries to protest, grasping for his remaining dignity but when Frank senses his resistance, he smashes further, bending the hand back at an unnatural angle at the wrist. Your brother lets out a string of explicatives as Frank adds, "I don't like waiting asshole. Am I understood?"

Your brother huffs out a desperate, "Y-yes, yes I understand." Frank releases his hand and claps a broad hand to your brother's back, barking "Smart man," in a friendly gesture completely at odds with the pain he just inflicted.

Your brother is panting out breaths, looking at Frank in terror and confusion. "Now go apologize to your beautiful sister jackass," Frank adds before stalking off toward the truck where you're waiting.

When the ordeal is over, Frank doesn't offer flowery reassurances or poetry to you. He places a firm hand on your thigh, starts the car and asks, "Lemme get you home sweetheart." You nod, knowing full well that your brother's scared apology was Frank's work and your heart swells. Frank spends the rest of the night showing you exactly what he loves about every damn inch of your body.

[agirlcandream84]

a silly little request but when i eat lollipops or any hard candy i just BITE. maybe a few licks before im gnawing on it like a dog with a bone. i can see frank freaking out like “you’re gonna break a goddam tooth slow down honey!” but it’s like… i can’t not bite lol. how would he react when he hears that really loud crack and he turns and you’re just chewing on the candy?

girl my teeth could neevverrr. I envy you!

He'd be like "Jesus christ sweetheart! Gonna crack a molar doin' that shit" and then if anybody was offering you some hard candy at any point Frank would be pushing their hand away and muttering low under his breath, "nah, don't offer her that, she can't eat it right" hoping you can't hear like you're some addict and you were being offered street drugs.

[halfway-happyyy]

thinking about needy, touch-starved frankie 😢

[halfway-happyyy]

skilled fingertips roaming the dips and valleys of your body are so frenzied they almost feel dire, stir you from a surprisingly heavy slumber. he's home- had to have slipped beneath the covers while you dreamt (likely of him), and he waited until he absolutely couldn't any more, but he needs you, now. he hasn't voiced it yet, he rarely ever does, but it's evident in the set line of his jaw, and in the way his erection presses warm and firm against your thigh.

his dark hair still bears moisture from the shower he'd had before joining you, and you find yourself frowning.

"you showered without me."

a low rumble sounds from somewhere deep in his throat before he nods, once.

"had to, kid."

-scrubbed until i was raw, and i still ain't convinced i won't get anythin' on ya somehow.

"you alright, frank?"

he doesn't acknowledge your query, just grinds his hard cock against you again, and your body's reaction to that simple touch is immediate and embarrassingly involuntary. white-hot heat like you've never felt before sets what feels like every nerve ending in your body ablaze.

"what do you need from me?"

his fingertips- so calloused and familiar they cause raw emotion to swell in your throat- skate up and down the length of your chest, traversing lower and lower with each pass until he has them mere inches from where you need him most.

"need you to tell me what to do, sweetheart."

it's a rare occurrence, but he gets like this sometimes. he spends so much of his life making impossible decisions, that when he's home with you, he just wants you to steer his ship for a while.

you tilt your head up to press a kiss to the space of warm skin just beneath his earlobe.

"missed you frank, and i just need you to make me feel good."

any resolve he might have had dissipates entirely, and he pushes past the flimsy material of your underwear to tease a thick finger up and down the length of your soaked slit.

"ho-ly shit, sweetheart." he groans.

he's seconds away from doing it again when his phone starts vibrating.

"let it ring," you plead, too turned on to be ashamed of how desperate your demand sounds.

he does let it go, and he's about to continue where he was interrupted, when it rings again.

"chrissakes," he hisses before reaching for his ancient relic of a cell phone. he takes the call there, flat on his back, glaring up at the ceiling.

despite the frenzied thrum of your heartbeat, it's quiet in the room and you can hear the conversation perfectly.

"uh, yeah sorry to bother ya pete, i know ya got in late last night but my batch of concrete ain't curin' right and i need some help."

"christ, sam- there ain't anyone else there to walk ya through it?" he asks, through gritted teeth.

he's in a pair of worn carhartt's and a long-sleeved shirt in ten minutes, and you're left thinking that whatever the female equivalent of blue-balls is, you certainly have it.

"we'll continue this when i get back, yeah?" he hums.

"depends," you sigh. "i've got sarah's birthday dinner tonight."

"oh, i'll be back long before that, kid. you can bet on it." he presses a series of ticklish kisses to your face before leaving.

[agirlcandream84]

Do we think that Frank is someone who is loud or vocal in bed, or is he like a "few grunts here an there" typa guy?

Ok I think Frank is vocal with praise and instruction but his pleasure is in grunts and groans.

So like, he's giving so so so much "good girl" and "that's it pretty girl" and "Doin' so good for me sweet girl" and "Love seein' you take me like this lil' mama" and "Look fuckin' gorgeous all spread open f' me" and "Lemme feel the way you can squeeze me sweetheart" and "Hands and knees babydoll, attagirl." Like you get the picture. He's got no problem making noise when it comes to praising you.

As far as his own pleasure, he's less showy. Frank just has an animalistic quality to him -- he's not necessarily suppressing himself but the natural stuff he emits is more like growls. It's rumbles in his chest. Grunts. It's controlled excursion. It's focused pleasure.

[agirlcandream84]

Okay this is so silly but I feel like Frank's the kind of boyfriend who randomly blows a raspberry on your tummy! Like out of nowhere 😩😂

NO FOR SURE.

He loves to make you squeal and squirm SO bad. It delights him. He's ALWAYS jamming a finger behind your knees or under your arms or in your ribs and making you screech. Or he's being all cute and cuddly and then going in for the kill and blowing a raspberry on your bare stomach and you're trying to shove at his huge head as you contort and squirm but he's too crafty and he's got you pinned and when he finally relents he looks SO smug with himself.

And he does one of those classic things where now you know to be a little suspicious around him so maybe you tug down a shirt as he's laying with you in bed and he gives you the saddest puppy dog eyes and says "Whadya' hidin' from me or somethin' sweetheart?" and you're like "Yeah I don't trust you" as you're giving him the side-eye. He just lays it on so thick "No baby I promise, not gonna do that to ya. Just wanna cuddle my girl. Ain't gonna deny me that are ya honey?" and you, of course, relent and not one minute later he dives for your bare stomach and destroys you.