Even With The Warming Spells, The Cold Breeze Off Of The Northern Sea Rips Through Your Cloaks. Snow

Even with the warming spells, the cold breeze off of the Northern Sea rips through your cloaks. Snow has already melted through your pants, shivering your skin and sapping away your body heat. It's a full days walk to the nearest port, then a ferry ride back to the mainland. In three days, you'll be out of his hair forever and he can move on, live a happier life than you could even provide.

The salt air burns your cheeks.

That is, if you can even make it there. You might die on the way. You don't know if that's a bad thing; not when the pain you carry is so heavy. Maybe it would be easier to just lay down and succumb.

Obsidian had said that you would break his heart one day, but it turns out that the opposite was true. His silver tongue bewitched you and you had lost track of the truth: men would always hurt you, always-

Your name is carried on the wind.

Obsidian. When you turn, he's running, barreling towards you with all the might his body can muster. Snow is caught on his shoulders and stuck to his coat, building as he rushes down the path.

There's no reason for you to run towards him. Your decision has been made, your die has been cast. This man has broken your heart beyond repair.

And yet.

Your legs move on their own. Just as you always do, you run towards him. When you meet, almost colliding with force, he takes you by the forearm and pulls you in close, arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You're so cold." His voice is haggard, not entirely from panting. "I thought-- you're so cold."

You can feel his heart pounding under his skin, racing faster and faster. His body jerks with each breath and you suddenly realize he's on the brink of crying, sucking in air to hold back tears.

"Why did you follow me?" you ask. The real question you want to ask is why is he crying, but you bite it back, afraid of the answer.

"Why did I--? I would follow you to hell and back. I would swim oceans to find you." He drops to his knees, sinking with the snow, clutching at your legs with a fervent need, as if you'll slip away once again. "Every step I've ever taken was bringing me to you."

His frame is so big that when he looks up, his head rests against your torso. Those bright green eyes stare up at you, the whites red stained and glossed with tears. the ones that have escaped have frozen to his face, sculptures to his misery.

"Why did you go?"

The tears you had swallowed escape all at once. You sob, body heaving and shaking even as you cover your mouth.

"Obi..." you mourn as you wipe away his frozen tears. "I need to go. I'm not right for you."

He squeezes you tighter, gathering your coat in his hands.

"I don't belong there, Obi." You stroke the crest of his head, trying to engrain every ridge into your memory. "I know your mother wants-"

"I do not give an everloving fuck what my mother wants." Obsidian spits out the curse. It shocks you a bit. "I want you. I want you. I want you."

He kneels for you like it's worship, like he's praying for something he cannot have. It's mournful, hopeful, pained and healing. His expression is soft, even as his tears continue to roll.

"I want you."

Love is cruel, you decide. Vicious and cruel. The two of you cry together, frozen in place by the cold.

"Sorghum told me about the other girl," you say.l once you gather yourself. "The one you're going to marry."

Obsidian shakes his head together. "Other women don't exist to me -"

"The one your mother chose. The white-"

"Bubble?!" // He is so aghast the it makes you laugh through your tears.

"Sorghum translated your conversation." Laughter has freed more tears. "She said Umi matched you two-"

"She clearly did not translate well!" He swallows down his anger, over and over again. "Bubble and I were matched together, yes-"

You try to pull away, but he grips tighter, another plead. His manicured claws don't hurt when they dig into your skin.

"When we were children," he stresses. "I rejected the offer years ago-- before I ever left for school. My mother just wanted me to visit an old friend before we left."

The statement sits with you for a long moment. The bitter night has left both of you quaking and wet, shivering into each other's heat.

"But, Sorghum said-"

"Sorghum is a horrible, bitter woman who is caught in her own misery," Obi says. "I told my Umi under no certain terms that you are the love of my life."

He releases you to sit back on his heels, fishing into his pocket. From his pocket, he produces a familiar item- your abandoned earring. He holds it out with reverence, like it's a precious jewel.

"A direct translation would be that I have placed my heart in a silver dish for you to dine on," Obsidian says. "I am yours."

You uncurl your hand. The other earring had been gripped so hard that its edges cut into your palm. A perfect, heartbroken set.

"Loving me means we can't stay here. You'd be losing your culture," you whisper, barely audible over the howl of the wind.

"I don't want to stay here!" Obsidian gestures to the world around you. The ice barren cliffs, the white capped sea, the dot of a town behind you. It's lifeless, frozen and snowbound. Obi had always preferred the warmth, sun to bask in, warm waters for swimming. It had never occurred to you why he had ventured off, why he had chosen the life of a traveler when his family was waiting.

"I adore my family, but they do not control my life. They do not dictate my happiness. I left to explore the world to become my own self, to choose my own life." He stands finally to brush the hair back from your face. It's frozen in tendrils to your forehead. "And I choose you with every bit and fiber of my being."

He takes his earring and loops it into its place. His hand stays extended expectantly, waiting for your half of the set.

"I should have told you about Bubble, but I knew you were feeling othered. I didn't want to make it worse."

"I will always be a human." You place the earring into his palm. You look at him, truly look, drink in every curve of his face, every scale and horn and tooth. It's yours, all of him is yours and yours alone. "Loving me will never be easy."

He loops your other earring in for you. "It's always been easy to me."

Suddenly. you press on to your toes and press your forehead against his.

"Come home with me." Obi whispers. He holds you again, softer this time, now that he knows you won't slip away. "Let me warm you tonight."

This time, it's you who holds tight. "Keep me warm for the rest of our lives."

Boop me to get your achievements.

Also, did you know you can high-five the cat paws? :3

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gabbag00l

11 months ago

what's going on in the congo since there's also a genocide happening over there as well:

to sum it up, people in the congo are literally being worked as slaves to mine for this material called coltan, which is very valuable as its used for things like phones, laptops, just electronics in general. Congo is the number 1 producer for this material and the places behind this genocide is America, Britain, France, and Israel, wow what an absolute shocker. The worst places probably to ever exist benefit from a genocide. These places are funding Rwanda and Uganda military groups, to go into the Congo and kill MILLIONS of people. This has also been going on for YEARS. Many women have been SA'd and men are forced to work in INHUMAN conditions, resulting in their death and the colonizers are absolutely benefitting from this. 6 MILLION people have been killed and half of them are literally kids. Many of the Congolese people have also been displaced.

Please speak out about and raise your voice

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gabbag00l

2 months ago

i'm such a sucker for this trope omg

nanami x reader

~cowardly knight

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knight! nanami x princess! fem! user

tags : royalty au / angsty / minimal fluff / no smut / nanami is a hot knight / princess user

a/n : guys im srsly thinking ab posting on ao3 but jm so nervous.. if anything itd definitely be this trope bc its one of my all time faves, anyways enjoy this oneshot !

context : after a long day, you and nanami take a midnight stroll in the castle gardens, and you cant help but wonder if he reciprocates your feelings

lmk what u think about this!

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As a princess, every movement, every word, every decision was watched, judged, and scrutinized by the kingdom. The crown, though beautiful, was heavy. You wore it not just on your head, but on your very soul. The royal duties, the endless appearances, the constant expectations—all weighed on you like an invisible cloak you couldn’t shake off.

But there were moments when you could escape. Moments when the pressure of the palace walls seemed to fade, if only for a while. The castle gardens were your sanctuary. In the quiet of the night, the sounds of rustling leaves and the scent of blooming flowers were the only things that filled the air. Here, you could breathe freely, if only for a brief moment, and feel the freedom that life outside the castle might offer.

The moon hangs high in the sky, casting a pale, silvery glow across the castle gardens. The night air is crisp, cool enough to make you pull your cloak tighter, but not biting enough to truly discomfort you. The world feels still, as if the very night has paused for a breath.

Nanami walks just behind you, always at a slight distance, never too far to be out of reach, but not close enough to invade your space. He is your knight—his place is always by your side, ever watchful, ever vigilant. No matter where you go, no matter the time, his duty is to accompany you, to protect you. Even now, in the stillness of the garden, he remains close, his every movement calculated, his attention unwavering.

“Such a peaceful night,” Nanami remarks, his voice steady, as calm and composed as ever. He glances at you briefly, his tone softening just slightly. “It’s rare to have a moment like this.”

You don’t answer immediately, lost in the beauty of the night sky above. But as the wind picks up, you feel a chill run through your body. You try to ignore it, hoping it will pass, but the breeze is relentless. Another shiver shakes you, more noticeable now.

Nanami notices it immediately. Of course, he does. He’s always watching, always aware of the smallest details. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his pace steady but purposeful. Without a word, he pulls his cloak from his shoulders and gently drapes it around you. The heavy fabric envelops you, its warmth immediately a comfort against the cold that’s settled in your bones.

His hands linger just for a moment as he adjusts the cloak, ensuring you’re covered. His touch is brief, professional, but there’s something in the way he does it that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You shouldn’t be cold,” he says, his voice steady and calm. “It’s my duty to make sure you’re safe, Your Highness.”

His words are like they always are—impersonal, duty-bound. But there’s an undercurrent to them, something softer, something more that he doesn’t allow himself to express. He doesn’t meet your gaze, his attention once more turning to the path ahead. But you can feel the shift, the subtle way his focus remains on you even though he tries to hide it.

Nanami is your knight. His duty is clear. To serve. To protect. To remain by your side no matter what. Even if his heart wants to do more, he must push those feelings away. He can’t let them show. He can’t afford to. It’s easier this way.

But the longer he’s near you, the harder it becomes to ignore the way he feels. The warmth of your presence, the quiet moments when you’re just together, these moments are starting to blur the lines between what is duty and what he’s beginning to crave.

He clears his throat softly, trying to rid himself of the distraction. “Are you warm enough now?”

His eyes glance briefly over to you, still not meeting your gaze directly, but there’s something in his expression that isn’t quite as composed as usual. A softness that betrays the discipline he works so hard to maintain.

You pull the cloak tighter around your shoulders, feeling the warmth of the fabric seeping into your skin. You can still feel the heat of Nanami's hands, the brief moment they lingered on your shoulders. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you glance over at him.

"Thank you, Nanami," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper in the still night air. "You always take such good care of me."

Your eyes meet his for a moment, and you think your knees might buckle under his intense gaze.

"I'm warm now," you assure him, turning back to the path ahead. You keep walking, your footsteps falling in time with his. The silence between you is comfortable, easy, even if the air feels charged with a tension you can't quite name.

"Do you ever wish..." you start, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Do you ever wish things could be different? That we could just be Nanami and (name), not what our duties force us to be?”

Nanami's brow furrows slightly at your question, a rare display of emotion crossing his features. He's silent for a long moment, considering your words carefully. When he speaks, his voice is low and measured, as if choosing each word deliberately.

"Things are as they are, Princess," he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. "My duty, my purpose, is to serve you. As the princess, your role is to lead our kingdom, to be a beacon of hope and inspiration for all of our people."

He pauses, and for a brief instant, you think you see a flicker of longing in his eyes. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the steadfast resolve you've come to expect from your loyal knight.

"But in moments like these," he continues softly, "when the world around us is still and quiet, and the weight of our duties feels a bit lighter... I suppose I do allow myself to imagine what it might be like. To be free of the expectations, the titles, the constant vigilance..."

You listen intently to Nanami's words, your heart aching at the rare glimpse of vulnerability he's allowing himself to show. You know how difficult it is for him to open up like this, to step even momentarily outside of his role as your stoic, unyielding protector.

Impulsively, you reach out and place your hand over his on the sleeve of his cloak, giving it a gentle squeeze. The fabric is rough beneath your fingers, but you can feel the firmness of the muscle underneath. You look up at him, your hair falling over your shoulders as you meet his gaze.

"Nanami," you say softly, your voice filled with a tenderness you rarely allow yourself to express. "You are so much more than just my knight. You're my friend, my confidant, my..."

Your voice trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between you. Nanami's eyes widen slightly at your impassioned declaration, and for a breathless moment, you think he might say something more. Something that would change everything between you. But the moment passes, and he simply nods, his jaw tightening as he looks away.

"Your Highness... you are too kind to say so," he says, his voice carefully neutral once more. "I am honored to serve as both your knight and your friend."

But your heart sinks a little as you hear his words, a flicker of disappointment passing through you. You know he's holding back, keeping himself in check just as he always does. As much as his loyalty and dedication mean the world to you, a part of you yearns to see the real Nanami. The man beneath the armor, the heart behind the stoic exterior.

You take a step closer to him, your voice softening to a whisper. "Nanami, please... You don't have to always put up this front with me. Not when we're like this, not just the two of us. Alone."

Nanami's breath catches in his throat at your words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He's not used to such open vulnerability from you, such a direct acknowledgment of the man behind the knight. For a long moment, he simply stares at you, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to discern the sincerity behind your words.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reaches up and gently cups your cheek with his calloused hand. His thumb brushes lightly over your soft skin, a tender gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is warm, comforting, and yet there's an undercurrent of tension, a restrained energy that hints at the strength and power always lurking just beneath the surface.

"You see more than most, Princess," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion he rarely allows himself to express. "More than I often give you credit for." He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, smell the faint, masculine scent of him. His other hand comes up to rest on your hip, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. His grip is firm, and yet somehow gentle.

"Very well, Princess," he whispers, his breath mingling with yours. "I live to serve you."

Nanami's eyes flick down to your lips, lingering there for a long moment. The air between you feels charged, electric, heavy with a tension you've never experienced before. Your heart pounds in your chest, a staccato rhythm that echoes in your ears. You know you should pull away, put some distance between your bodies, but you find yourself rooted to the spot, transfixed by the intensity of his gaze.

Giving you every opportunity to back away, Nanami leans in closer. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, close enough that you can feel the whisper of his breath against your skin. Your eyelids flutter closed, your breath catching in your throat as you wait, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly.

Just before your lips meet, a sudden gust of wind rushes through the garden, sending your hair whipping around your face and breaking the spell. The moment shatters, and he jerks back as if burned, his eyes flying open.

"Princess, I..." he starts, his voice rough and strained. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Forgive me, I... I shouldn't have-... I let my desires cloud my judgment. It's not right for me to impose such familiarity upon you, Your Highness."

Your heart races as you blink up at Nanami, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. "Oh... I- I see." You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "It's alright, Nanami. I..." You trail off, at a loss for words, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the moment that just transpired between you.

Nanami takes a step back, putting some much-needed distance between your bodies. He bows his head, his blonde hair falling forward to hide his expression as he struggles to regain his composure. When he speaks again, his voice is carefully controlled, devoid of the raw emotion from moments before.

"It's late, Your Highness. We should head back inside the castle," he says, his tone apologetic yet firm. "The night grows cold, and it's not safe for you to be out in the garden any longer."

He extends his hand towards you, a silent invitation to take his arm. His eyes meet yours, and there's a flicker of something in their steely depths - a mix of concern, regret, and a lingering heat that he can't quite extinguish.

“Please, allow me to escort you back inside," he says softly, his voice a gentle plea. "Your chambers are waiting, and you need your rest."

You frown, your lips turning downwards as you look away from him, your hair falling like a curtain to hide your disappointment. You cross my arms over your chest, the silk robe slipping off of your shoulder, exposing your skin to the ruthless wind.

"I'm not a child, Nanami," You say, your voice tinged with a hint of petulance and barely concealed hurt. "I can walk myself back to my chambers just fine."

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you read too much into his gentle touches and heated looks. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way you do...

Nanami's eyes widen at the petulant tone in your voice, a flicker of surprise and concern crossing his handsome features. He reaches out to steady you as you cross your arms, his hand coming to rest on your bare shoulder. The coolness of the night air is a sharp contrast to the warmth of his touch, making you shiver.

"Princess, I never said you were a child," he says, his voice gentling as he tries to soothe your hurt. "Forgive me if I offended you with my words. That was not my intent."

His thumb brushes lightly over your shoulder, a comforting gesture that belies the tension in his stance. He looks down at you, his gaze searching yours.

"I merely wish to do what is best for you, Your Highness. Your safety, your well-being... they are everything to me." He hesitates for a moment before continuing, his voice lowering to a softer tone. "But more than that, I want to protect your heart. To shield you from the pain and heartache that can come with... with complicated feelings."

"Let me go."

"Your majesty-"

"That was an order."

"...As you wish, Princess."

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gabbag00l

11 months ago

My copium au where they get to grow up

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gabbag00l

8 months ago

Literally cannot emphasize enough that my #1 writing advice is to stop being afraid. Stop being afraid of sounding too cringe, or too stupid, or too horrifying, or too horny, or too weird, or too much, or too little, or too you. You need to put your entire pussy into your art. Sure, it won't be to everyone's tastes, but if you keep yourself to the blandest tamest safest roads possible you will be of no one's tastes, not even yours.

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gabbag00l

1 year ago

i just think its healthy to have one punching bag character. the anti blorbo. i know so much abt them and their story and understand them better than anyone but i do not wanna see them succeed. i wanna be the one that dangles them over a shark tank

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gabbag00l

1 year ago

Ride, Cowgirl.

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: neither of you can keep last night off your mind, needing more Frank finds comfort in your room.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, sex!!, praise kink asf, oral (f receiving), soft frank, reader calls him frankie accidentally, frank making noise in bed, riding like a cowgirl!!, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 3514 words

author’s note: I’m in love with darlin’ and frank, they are simply the lomls currently. anyway, the end gives the perfect set up for a third part if it is desired!! In the meantime, it’s 1;30 am for me and I need sleep!! please enjoy <3

read the first part cowgirl ! and the next part cowboy hats !

Boyfriend by COIN played on the speaker your dad, conveniently, left outside as you laid on one of the pool loungers. Thoughts of Frank consuming your mind, thoughts of his hands and his voice and the way he smelled and how he looked pain that he couldn’t fuck you in the backseat of his truck. Your fingers finding themselves rubbing the side of your neck, the very spot Frank had found comfort.

“So how did last night go?” Tiff asked, hanging over the side of the pool to look at you. Your heart raced, did she find out? How would she? Did you accidentally call her when you were panting his name like it was the only word you knew? The way you froze as she asked a simple question, immediately made her suspicious of you.

“Huh?” You asked, in hopes of getting her to elaborate just a bit so you could come up with the lie of your life. Or maybe, you should confide in her. She is your girl for life, it’s not like she’s gonna judge you for doing it. If anything, she’d praise you and beg for details.

“After I left? How did the rest of the night go? Your dad doesn’t have the most interesting friends on the planet. All they talk about is work and their lack of wives.” She rolled her eyes, laying her head on her hands and kicking her legs in the water.

“Actually…” You smiled, bringing your knees up to your chest to hide behind them as the blush spread across your body.

“Oh. My. God. Hold on!” She rushed to climb out of the pool, dripping water all over you as she sat on the opposite end of the lounger. If gossiping was a team sport, the two of you would have ten gold medals, if anyone asked you weren’t necessarily talking shit but simply saying how you felt about people.

“So, after you left, Frank and I went to the gas station and I asked if he had been with anyone younger. I don’t know what got into me, Tiff! He just looked so…godly. I wanted to jump his bones the second I came downstairs from changing.” You covered your face with your hands and groaned, the blush was probably becoming permanent at this point. You were going to be bright red for the rest of your life.

“Your dad’s best friend?! Holy shit dude. C’mon spill!” She laughed, prying the hands off your face and sitting expectantly. You were beyond grateful for the fact she wasn’t judging you and was actually interested. Maybe that was a bad thing, you didn’t care.

“Anyway, he said ‘Not yet’ and I was in shock or something! So, I reached over and kinda did a weird caress thing to his beard. I was flyin’ by the seat of my swimsuit, I’ve never been with a man who has any sort of facial hair. But he kissed me, and I mean like Really kissed me.i’ve never been kissed like that before, Tiff. Mind blowing.” Unbeknownst to you, the very man you were speaking about had walked out the back door and could hear the whole conversation. His chest swelled with pride, in some fucked up way he was glad no one had ever kissed you like that. It meant there was a lot more he could do way better than any of the other people you’d been with, and he’d be damned if he didn’t ruin you for any other man out there.

“Your dad is about to come out here, suggest you find somethin’ else to talk ‘bout.” He hollered at the two of you, your head whipping around so fast it was a miracle you didn’t give yourself whiplash, chuckling at the way your eyes widened when you realized he had heard you talking about him. “Quit speakin’ so damn loud anyway, sure the whole neighborhood heard.”

Frank didn’t truly mean what he said, he would love to listen to you retell the story of your escapades, what he didn’t want was your father to hear and put two and two together. He didn’t need to get into some shitty mess with the one constant in his life, he owed more to your dad than he cared to admit and ruining that friendship would send Frank to an early grave. That in no way meant he regretted what he did last night, and everything else he planned to do. He simply wanted to go about all this in a way that wouldn’t cost him his friendship but still gives him his girl, gives him you. He prayed for the first time last night, and he really truly prayed, for a situation where it all works out and he’s not back to square one. With nobody. Again.

“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Castle.” Tiff shouted back, a smug smile playing on her face, giving him a small wave. She nudged your shoulders, giggling at the whole situation. All you wanted to do was shrink and disappear, you couldn’t be more embarrassed. You felt small and helpless, your best friend thought it was hilarious. God if you can hear me, please kill me.

You spent the whole morning thinking about him and the consequence of what you did, how would your next interaction go? Would it be weird? Would he pretend it never happened, that he wasn’t dying to have you right then and there. Yet, here you were no true interaction but you were the one cowering away from it. You were the one trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, when truthfully you wanted to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know who had given you the best orgasm of your life.

“I’m going to shrink to the size of ant and drown myself in the fuckin’ pool, Tiff. I swear to god.” You slouched as far down in the lounger as you could, squeezing your eyes closed in some desperate attempt to make it all disappear. “Of course he would be here right now.”

“Ants don’t have lungs, they can’t technically drown. Besides, it’s not like he came out here and murdered you, all he did was tell you to be quieter. He also made no indication or mention of last night, so stop lettin’ that pretty head of yours go wild.” Tiff rubbed her hand soothing up and down your arm, she knew better than anyone the way your mind would take someone breathing at you and interpret it as they hate you and want you dead. That’s why she worked so well with you, the sane and grounded to your wild and anxious.

“I don’t think it would matter even if he did, the principle of it all is what’s causing my worries. Do you think worry dolls are still a thing? I could most definitely use one right now.” A groan once again left your mouth, your eyes opening and searching for the older man who was carrying planks of wood across your backyard. Your father walked out of the house, giving you and Tiff a wave before hollering at Frank about whatever they were building.

The whispers and giggles coming from the two of you were intriguing Frank, he wanted to know exactly what you were telling her and what you were intentionally leaving out. He wanted to know if you were even talking about him, or if she was telling you the real reason that I just left abruptly last night. Because he knew, he wouldn’t say anything to you about it unless you brought it up first, but he knew. The work in front of him was becoming increasingly less interesting, he was so close to telling your dad to throw in the towel and call it a day. He didn’t even know what he was building anymore, he truthfully didn’t care but your dad did. That was enough for him to keep going.

“Those two have been out all day, shockin’ they’re not burnt or nothin’.” Your dad commented, planting his shovel in the ground and leaning against it. He smiled your way, not that you noticed as you were preoccupied with Tiff. You were his pride and joy, his baby. He’d murder anyone for you, it was a part of the reason you never brought anyone home.

“‘M not shocked. Last summer, I’m not sure either one of em spent any more than twenty minutes inside. Make sure she- they wear sunscreen, don’t need em getting skin cancer.” Frank was quick to correct himself, not that your dad would’ve found anything wrong with his original statement but he was covering all his bases. Not that he didn’t care for the other girl, Tiff was her name? He didn’t need to know her name, not when he knew yours.

“I’ll make sure to pick some up from the store the next time we make it to the grocery, I know my girl wears some. Not sure ‘bout her friend.” His girl. The words made Frank irrationally angry, you were his daughter but the thought of someone else staking claim over you drove him mad. One night with you and he was acting, and thinking, like you were his wife. Wife. No.

Frank had met your father when you were nineteen, hadn’t met you until you were twenty. It wasn’t like he was truly doing anything wrong but he was going to fight a never ending mental battle about you. Going through every hoop to tell himself neither of you was doing anything wrong, that you weren’t going to be in trouble for your actions. That it was, simply, okay.

The sun was setting, the breeze taking over and raising the hair on your skin. You truly had been outside all day, with sunscreen reapplied every hour or so, you were bound to find a few sunburnt spots in your shower. You exchanged goodbyes with Tiff and made your way to your room to start the nightly routine you had adopted since being home, switching the bluetooth from the speaker outside to the one inside your room. You opened the window, your music slowly starting to dance with the breeze, when a soft knock on your door grabbed your attention.

“Hey cowgirl.” Frank whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over your music, making his way into your room and studying it. Committing all the bits and pieces of it to his memory.

“I’m so sorry about earlier, if you don’t want me to tell Tiff anymore I won’t. I just, I tell her everything and I needed to tell someone.” Your cheeks slowly started turning pink, Frank thought you were cute like that.

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. I didn’t care, just warnin’ ya ‘bout your dad is all.” He walked closer to you, his height very apparent, your head the perfect height for his chest. He brought a finger up to your cheek, dragging it down before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I appreciate it, I know how much he means to you.” No you didn’t. He knew you knew a small bit not enough to truly understand what the two of you meant to him. He would be forever indebted to your father if it meant keeping you, if it meant holding you and kissing you. Consuming himself with you.

“So pretty.” He truly whispered, admiring every inch of your face, leaning down to kiss you. Your heart stopped, he didn’t regret it? He thought you were pretty?

You decided to stop fucking thinking for once and enjoy it, leaning up to meet him halfway in the kiss. Threading your fingers through his hair, much like he did with yours in his truck. One his hands held the side of your face while the other tucked itself into the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms, rubbing at the indentation it left from being worn all day.

“Ready to ride, cowgirl?” He asked, pulling away from the kiss enough to nip at your jaw as he waited for an answer. He wouldn’t be mad if you said no, he would be patient and wait until you were, but he went home and fucked his hand like a horny teenage boy at the thought of you on top of him.

A whimper is all you managed to respond with, your mind momentarily thinking about your dad but was interrupted by the softness of your mattress touching your back.

“Goddamn swimsuits, prancing around in practically nothing.” He remarked, still standing as he eyed your body. His finger snapped the strap of your bottoms, smirking at the sound before he dragged them down your legs.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked softly, making him burst into laughter.

“For what?” He responded, controlling his laughter at the fact you would ask that right now.

“So I can wear one that color the next time you’re over.” You smiled, looking up at him. Somehow he looked even prettier from this angle, if that was possible.

“Uh, probably red.” He gave a bit of thought before responding, curious to know if you would actually be wearing a bikini the next time you saw him. At your house, anyway.

He stashed the bikini bottoms in his back pocket, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and getting down on his knees. Frank thanked all the heavens and the stars for the meal he was about to eat right before licking a stripe through your folds and sucking on your clit. The stimulation instinctively caused your thighs to close, causing him to force them back open and lay one arm across a leg with his hand splayed across your stomach.

He moaned.

Frank moaned, was he enjoying this as much as you were? Were there any downsides or faults to this man?

He moved his mouth closer to your clit, paying almost all his attention to it as he inserted his middle finger slowly. A wanton moan making its way to his ears, he thought everything about you was pretty. If he wasn’t rock hard when he took your bottoms off, he definitely was now. The stretch in his jeans was not entirely comfortable, it truthfully wouldn’t be able to accommodate much more.

“Frank, Frankie, please..”

Did you just- did he imagine that? He’d never had anyone call him that before, but it sounded so damn good coming from your lips.

“What, pretty girl? Use your words for me. Tell Frankie what you need.”

“‘M so close, please need more.” You whined, to him it even sounded a bit like you were going to cry. He’s bet his life savings you were a pretty crier, a pretty anything. He just wanted to look at you. Always.

All he wanted to do was pull out his phone and record the pleas and the moans coming from you, to listen to later if you were ever ripped from him and he didn’t get to experience this, experience you, ever again. If it weren’t for your fucking music. He was thankful for it, blocking your sounds from anyone in the house. He added his ring finger into the mix, relishing in the sound you made. You were his drug, he truly was addicted. He needed his next fix before this one was over.

Moments after he sped up his fingers and added more pressure to your clit, your orgasm ripped through you. Body shaking, eyes rolling back. This was better than the one he gave you last night. You’d never be able to touch yourself ever again, not the way he did. You didn’t think anyone could ever compare now that Frank had touched you.

By the time you came to, he had discarded his clothes and was on top of you. He pulled you into a kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and groaning into your mouth when you let him in. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth while his fingers explored every inch of your body.

“I don’t have a condom.” He confessed.

“Don’t care, on the pill. Frankie please, I need you inside of me right now. Need your cock, frankie..please.” The sound of you begging for him had his ego going through the roof, the fact that anyone could want or need him this bad was mind blowing.

He rubbed his cock through your folds, kissing you a bit more before he pushed the tip in. Your mouth opening in a gasp. You knew he was big, you saw the imprint in the truck yesterday. But this was different, the stretch hurt in a delicious way that you needed more of. He waited a moment before pushing in a bit more, toying with your clit and peppering your face with kisses to distract you.

He bottomed out, you had never felt so full in your life. You swore he was in your stomach, taking rearranging your guts to a new level. He stayed still, letting you get used to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you, too much.

“Frankie move.”

Your wish was his command. His thrusts started slowly, building up in speed as he went. It was at this point, you realized Frank Castle was not quiet in bed. He wasn’t necessarily loud either, but he was groaning in your ear. The grunts and the groans were spurring you on, your moans and whimpers were doing the same for it. It was a cycle, and if either of you had your way it would never end.

“Sound so damn pretty. Makin’ all these noises for me, huh? My pretty girl, my girl.” He put all his weight on his forearms, lifting himself enough to look you in the eyes, his hair falling out of place and onto your face. He was gorgeous, especially like this. Raw. Vulnerable. Just for you.

“Your girl, yours.” You babbled, too busy reeling in the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you. How his bare skin feels on yours. His voice praising you. Calling you pretty.

“That’s right, such a good girl.” His praises continued, some of them too muffled for you to hear as he sucked on your collarbone. Or your neck. Any exposed skin he could get in his mouth.

Without pulling out, he flipped the two of you over so you were on top. Riding him. Cowgirl.

“C’mon cowgirl, ride me. You can do it baby.” He lifted your hips up and placed them back down to get you started, placing your hands on his chest for you. He slipped one of your boobs out of the top, you were still wearing, and put your nipple in his mouth. Rolling the bud between his teeth, enjoying the new sounds he managed to get.

You placed your weight on your hands, positioning your legs right, and lifted back up. He was somehow even deeper than before, it was almost overwhelming. His pelvic bone was hitting your clit just right every time you came down, accompanied by his groans, you were a goner. You fell into his chest as you felt your second orgasm start to rip through you, your words slurred as you told him to use you. You were his to use.

Frank had been close since he put you on top, his self control had been wearing a bit thin. He fucked you through your orgasm, pistioning up inside you like his life depended on it.

“Where do you want it, c’mon baby where?” He grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his release off. It was getting increasingly harder when your cunt was gripping him like that.

“Inside.” Is all you muttered out, half aware of your choice. You’d deal with it later.

Not a moment later he painted your inside white, cummimg with a low and long groan. Relaxing his head completely against your pillows, taking deep breaths. You crumpled against his chest, just resting for a moment as he was still inside you. This was the most relaxed you’d been in ages, at some point you drifted off to sleep.

You were awoken by the feeling of Frank cleaning you up and putting a blanket on top of you, obviously you knew he couldn’t stay. It still hurt. It hurt your heart, your soul, your everything.

“Gotta go, pretty girl. I put my number in your phone. We’ll talk later.” His last sentence meant more than just texting you, you both knew it. At some point, lines had to be drawn or you had to fess up to your dad. But for now you’d live in delusion, in a world where you were in an established relationship and no one thought anything of it. He placed a kiss on your forehead, finished getting dressed and got up to leave. Stopping at the door he turned around to give you one last glance, you had already fallen back asleep. His cowgirl.

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