Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: frank castle x reader in which reader is the embodiment of this meme- “i’ll kick anyone’s ass. i’ll kick your ass. i’ll kick your dog’s ass. i’ll kick my own ass."
Content Warnings: none, I think? Let me know if I missed anything.
Word Count: 1300-ish
Authors note: “Francis Castle, I’m going to kick your ass” (affectionate) Please comment and reblog, thank you for your support! I reblog all my dividers, search “dividers” on my blog.
Main Masterlist
She stood about 5’3” with fiery eyes and a soul that matched. She was lacking in the height department, but she sure made up for it with rage, spite, attitude, and an almost frightening amount of passion.
She was mean- not cruel. Never cruel.
Just mean in the way that made people who knew her best grin when she started getting loud and telling them off. She had no patience for bullshit, no tolerance for disrespect, and if she was pissed off- absolutely no problem telling a grown man twice her size exactly where he could go.
But for the people she loved? She would go to war. She'd fight for them, defend them, feed them, fuss over them, and threaten bodily harm on anyone who so much as looked at them wrong.
She was fierce.
Bold.
Unapologetic.
She loved with the same ferocity she fought with- loudly, completely, and without apology.
And Frank Castle loved every damn bit of it.
When he met her
Frank had been on his way home when the smell stopped him.
Garlic.
He inhaled deeper.
Basil. Tomatoes simmering in olive oil.
Fresh bread.
Something rich and cheesy underneath it all.
His stomach growled.
Frank stopped on the sidewalk, inhaling deeply for the third time. The smell was familiar, smelled like something his Ma used to make when he was a kid. The memory was distant and faint, but smell was the most powerful trigger of all, right?
Across the street was a restaurant he'd never noticed before. The door was propped open, warm light spilling onto the pavement.
Frank glanced toward his apartment. He could go home, eat whatever sad, questionable leftovers were sitting in his refrigerator.
As if on queue, his stomach growled again.
“Yeah, alright.”
He crossed the street.
The restaurant was warm and crowded, filled with the clatter of silverware and conversation.
Frank had barely sat down when he heard a booming voice coming from the kitchen.
“TONY!”
He looked toward the kitchen.
A man's voice answered. “What?”
“What the hell is this?”
“I made what ya asked for.” The guy said in the most stereotypical Italian accent Frank had ever heard.
Frank's mouth curved upward into a small smile.
“You made something. I asked for eggplant parm!”
That almost earned a chuckle from Frank.
The waiter standing beside him sighed. “She's gonna kill somebody.”
Frank glanced at him.
“Who?”
“The owner.”
Frank laughed under his breath.
Then the kitchen doors swung open and a lady came waltzing through like she owned the place- turns out she did.
Frank had expected the voice to belong to someone bigger.
Instead— A woman who couldn't be more than five feet and a few inches tall, with a head full of wild curls that were pulled back, the edges of them unruly from sweat.
She was wearing a black apron over a cream colored shirt. She had flour dusting one forearm.
She was beautiful..and absolutely furious.
“Goin’ to go all Gordon Ramsey on all your asses!"
The man behind the counter peeked out the kitchen window easily twice her size, raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, boss.”
She rolled her eyes but a genuine smile crossed her face when she was out of the cook’s eyeline.
She then turned towards the host stand, as she did she looked over the dining room- and caught Frank watching her.
His eyes darted back to the menu and, hell, he sat up a little straighter too.
When he glanced back, she was still looking at him;
She smiled.
At him.
Frank wasn't used to that these days.
The waiter came over.
“What can I get for you?”
Frank looked toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, uh.. Gimme the eggplant parm.”
“Good choice.”
The waiter took the menu and went to put his order in.
Frank watched the pretty lady disappear through the swinging doors again.
He didn't know her.
Didn't know her name or anything about her.
But for some reason, Frank Castle immediately had a soft spot for her.
-
He took his first bite of eggplant parm twenty minutes later.
It was excellent.
Frank looked toward the kitchen again. Maybe he'd be back.
For the food, obviously.
Definitely not for the pretty woman who was capable of controlling an entire kitchen of men twice her size with nothing but a glare and a raised voice.
At least, that's what he told himself.
He didn't know she'd eventually call him handsome.
He didn't yet know that he'd eventually learn her coffee order, her favorite wine, the names of every member of her family, and exactly what expression meant she'd had a bad day.
Didn't know she'd threaten to kick his ass when she was worried about him or that she'd become one of the few people he'd trust completely.
He certainly didn't know that the tiny woman yelling about eggplant parmesan would eventually become the woman he loved.
–
By the time Frank and she were living together, the restaurant wasn't the only place where she ran a tight ship. Their apartment had rules- well not rules per say, but things that she preferred.
Shoes came off by the door, dirty dishes didn't live in the sink overnight. Frank was absolutely forbidden from leaving his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair because, according to her, “That's what a closet is for, Francis.”
Frank had been home for maybe twenty minutes when she came around the corner and nearly went down. She was used to looking straight ahead- to avoid a tray of spilled drinks or entrees, he was surprised she didn’t yell “corner!” when she was at home too.
She caught herself against the wall then looked down.
“Frank?!” she yelled, her voice carrying through the entire apartment
“Yeah?!” he yelled back
“ ‘M goin’t kick your ass! You left your damn boots in the doorway! I just tripped over ‘em!”
There was a brief pause.
“You okay?!”
“I'm fine!” she said, seething.
A few seconds later, Frank appeared in the living room, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, dish water wetting the fabric.
The second he saw her standing there, arms crossed and glaring at him, that lopsided grin she adored slowly spread across his face.
“Sorry, hon.”
She narrowed her eyes.
Frank glanced toward the doorway, then back at her.
“Maybe if ya watched where you was goin’, you wouldn’t trip over ’em.”
His grin widened into a full-blown, shit-eating smile.
Her hands immediately went to her hips. “What did you just say?”
“M’ just sayin’ maybe you should watch where you're walking, babydoll.” he taunted, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Francis Castle, I'll kick your ass!”
“Do it. You won't." Frank taunted.
Her hands stayed planted on her hips, her eyes narrowed even more and her nose scrunched slightly.
She didn't have to say anything, Frank knew that look. (and he loved it and thought it was adorable, but he'd never dare tell her that.)
“You're really in for it now, Frankie.” She stressed the syllables of his nickname and he knew he was really about to get it.
He walked over to the boots. He picked them up, putting them neatly beside the shoe rack. “There.”
She looked at them.
Then at him. “Better.”
“Happy?”
“Very.” She said, trying desperately not to smile.
She failed.
The happiness on Frank's face when he was teasing her was her favorite thing. (But she’d never tell him that.)
Frank stepped closer. “C’mere.”
"No. You went and pissed me off.” she defended, trying to maintain her composure, but it was slipping.
Frank huffed a small laugh. She was ridiculous, he knew she didn't really care about his boots by the door or his jacket on the back of the chair, she just loved to give him shit about it. And he loved throwing it right back at her.
“Keep laughing at me and see what happens.”
“Yeah, yeah. My tough girl, I know.” He crooned. “Meanest in all’a New York.”
She crossed her arms over her chest
Frank reached for her anyway, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She tried to resist for approximately two seconds before melting against him.
Frank kissed the top of her head.
“Love you.”
Her expression softened as she hugged him back. “Love you too.”
Tags: I don't believe I have anyone for my frank castle tag list yet? let me know if you want to be added. (Panics and tags @hellilovedit @saintcastiglione @jakegyllenhaalscharacters )
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: Fresh out of the academy, David Loki’s a young cop on the night shift. What happens when during a routine traffic spot, he’s confronted with an old crush who has other plans to get out of a ticket?
A/N: I know, I know, it's been a hot minute. I love David Loki and I love him as a dad omg I love him so much as a dad. Special shout out to @ for the title help. Also tags open for those who care
You watch David as he paces the living room nervously. He’s placed his gun and clip in the gun box he brought and it lies on top of your fridge, sealed and safely away from Isla’s prying hands. For the past hour you both had sat a safe distance from each other on the couch and chatted.
Less about the two of you and more about Isla.
“You gave her our name.” he had said in between bites of the tuna melt, trying to disguise the love behind each word.
“I told you; you were in charge of naming our children.” you say softly looking at him and every tell that had made you love this man reveals him. A jaw tick, two incessant blinks at a time, ocean eyes watching you with a combination of lust and love. Eyes saying far more than he will reveal before he gives a curt nod.
In a world where you weren’t an ass, you know he’d award you sexually.
But you had chosen hell so he goes back to his sandwich. He waits a beat before saying,
“You did say that. And, you did do the heavy lifting. For the next one, make sure I’m around okay?”
The comments takes you off guard, you choke on your bite and its only when you look over at him as you take a sip of water that he says,
“If I remember correctly, we have to at least have two. That way, we can guarantee she won’t turn out weird, right?”
He winks at you as you nod, face heating up. A flicker of hope blooms in your chest, but even then you intentionally ensure that you are far away from him to not be clouded in your smell.
Primarily because you knew you’d happily seduce him into trying for a second if he gave you the chance.
“What’s she like?” he asks thirty minutes later when you’ve both shifted from the dining room and towards the kitchen, walking around the space and inspecting photos of her and of you. The two of you together in Scotland, France, Greece. Isla with your mom, with Sam.
“She’s like ... .this crazy combination of the two of us. She's outgoing like me; she loves to be the center of attention. But also, only when she’s comfortable with a situation. She’s guarded like you, doesn’t trust easily.”
You were sitting on the couch, holding a mug full of tea but the smile that falls on your face comes naturally. Everyday Isla reminds you a little of yourself and then remarkably of David. It was a crazy combination you adored. He turns to you as you fall back in your seat and look at him,
“She’s so smart David. She loves to read, or at least read as much she understands the concept. She loves being read too. She likes museums and she understands more that your a detective, which is police to her, so anytime she sees one or hears one she always asks if it's you. She’ll point at it and say daddy and for this past summer she’s become obsessed with Paw Patrol.”
You bite your lip, look away as a tear falls down your cheek. It kills you every time; motherhood was stupid and beautiful at once.
“Thank you.” David had finally said softly as you looked back at him.
“Than you for at least talking about me to her. For making me a part of her world in some way, even if it's little.”
“Yeah, it's; I…it was important that she knows about you. She knows your name and that you both,” you pause, shaking your head, “I’ll let you discover with her.”
David gives a small smile as he flickers his eyes to a frame of Isla. You and her are sitting in a cabin and the background are snowy mountains. She’s young, but is sitting up with a black beanie on that matches yours. You both has sunglasses on as you pout towards the camera.
He wishes he had taken it. That he had been there.
“What does she think I’m doing?” he asks instead and you exhale as you shake your head,
“I told her you were solving a really, really important case where you have to protect people. She understands but she misses you the older she gets. So, brace yourself. She might be either really, really shy or she might overwhelm you.”
He nods as he exhales and then moves to sit next to you. So much for not being close.
“Speaking of, you said she was in daycare. We need to figure out finances moving forward.”
“David-” you begin and he shakes his head.
“Being a father is being there emotionally, financially, and physically. I got a lot to catch up on. We need to figure out expenses and doctors appointments; I want to go with you. And if she’s in anything, I want to be able to drop her off and be there too. I guess, visitation rights and stuff…..”
You can see him stumbling with it all and you exhale, move towards him and shake your head,
“Okay we can do that. You’re right; if we are parenting together it has to be just that, together. Just know one thing,” you place your hand tentatively on his arm, “First, you have access to your daughter whenever you like. I might ease her into you having time together more for her sake than yours because you’re new but once she trusts you she’s yours whenever you want. Rather you want me there or not.”
His eyes furrow together and he nods.
“Your name is on the birth certificate as her father. You have rights to her. I made sure that, okay. Just…know that. We can navigate everything else but she’s your daughter David. You don’t need permission from me. She’s as much yours as she is mine.”
This had spiraled you both into more conversation, so deeply that if it wasn’t for your phone going off you both probably would still be entrenched in it and miss Isla headed your way.
When you look down at your text you see that it’s your friend; she’s on the way to your house with Isla in stow and you tell David as much. Which is why he’s now pacing back and forth anxiously, twirling his freemason ring as he looks out the large bay window at the front of the house.
He stops when a car pulls up, a dark red SUV, and he flickers his eyes over to you nervously.
“I think…I think she’s here.”
You look out the window, smile and nod as you get up and walk towards him.
“Hey handsome, can you do me a favor?”
The words are familiar, despite whatever terms you were both on they cause the anxiety in his shoulders to dissipate just a bit.
“Yeah.”
“Remember that you made half of that little girl. Which means, she has half of your awesomeness.”
He shakes his head, sets his jaw.
“What if she sees me and doesn’t…” he doesn’t voice the insecurity, the fear, the uncertainty. The true fear David tried to hide from the world; from you. What if he’s never chosen. What if he’s left again by his own daughter.
You give a soft smile and shake your head.
“She knows you're coming. I told her after you asked. She’s been so excited to meet you too David.”
He looks down at you as you flicker your eyes out the window.
“But let me go and greet her. Remind her. She is almost two so you know; she either has remembered or she’s completely forgotten.”
He nods and you hesitate before leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
“She’s going to love you as much as I do, probably more. Promise.”
He exhales and looks at you and nods. His hands have found your waist, you both haven’t clocked when, and he squeezes you before nodding.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
You move to the door, opening it and you’re greeted with Isla’s beaming voice.
“Mama!!”
She squeals in your friend's arms as you move to your yard to greet them both.
“She’s been on one the whole car ride.”
Samantha deadpans and you laugh as you near them. Samantha Croix is nice. She’s young, the kind of stay at home mom women are told to strive to be. She also loves horror as much as you do and likes to talk shit about the waspy wives at the daycare center, even if she’s also one. She grew up poor, married rich incidentally so can take a joke.
“Oh, has she?”
“Oh yes. I think she is excited to meet her daddy.”
You had told Samantha about the situation days earlier, and Samantha's eyes glisten as she flickers her eyes toward your door.
“Is he inside?”
“Yeah.”
“Mama, I’m hungry.” Isla is reaching out for you, needy, and you grab her easily out of Samantha’s arms. She clings to you, legs and arms wrapped around you as you press your forehead to hers.
“You wanna snack?”
“Yes pease.”
You press a kiss to her forehead and smile at Samantha.
“Okay, I’ll chat with you later.”
“I expect a full update over wine and cheese on Friday.”
You laugh and nod,
“We’ll see. David and I need to figure out arrangements.”
Samantha nods, her own child screaming for her as she moves to her car.
“God motherhood is overrated.”
You laugh, and you Isla wave her off before you look at her again.
“By the way Isla, remember what today is?”
Isla looks at you for a second and you smile wider.
“You get to meet daddy today?”
“Daddy?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh,” she furrows her brow seriously, it's an exact replica to the way David does it and you exhale as she continues, “...daddy have snack too?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Okay.” she smiles as you walk the both of you up the stairs, towards the patio. The door is still open and you’re grateful for the AC when you walk in, cool air fighting the humidity as you close the door.
When you turn David’s….not far off in a corner but might as well be. He’s trying to look casual, hands in his pockets but you know him well enough to know he’s frozen by….a lot.
Isla similarly has stopped babbling, has clocked David and watches him with speculative interest.
If they only knew how similar they both were.
“Isla, do you know who that is?”
Isla looks at David a minute longer, before turning to you. Her small voice is a whisper as she says,
“It's daddy.”
David isn’t a crier. He’s only done it around you a few times in the long time you’ve known him. Except right now, you see every nerve in his body fight the need to break out in tears.
“It is daddy.” you confirm and Isla hides her face in your neck and whispers,
“Daddy is big.”
You chuckle and nod,
“Yeah, daddy is pretty tall.”
Isla stays like that for a second before she moves her head to look at him, curiosity winning over her uncertainty and drinks him in. She stops at his badge and whispers,
“Daddys’ police. Pew pew.”
David flickers your eyes to you and you cringe, shaking your head,
“That was Uncle Sam explaining what cops do. She won’t come off it.”
“Unk…..unkie Sam said daddy…and he …..daddy is he puts bad guys in jail.” Isla is talking to you but can’t take her eyes off daddy who gives a small smile. A tear escapes his left eye, he doesn’t try to hide it as he exhales.
“Hi Isla. It's nice to finally meet you.”
Isla’s eyes widen, she shifts to you in surprise as she whispers,
“Daddy knows me?”
You laugh,
“Well yeah you know, you’re his little girl so yeah.”
“Oh,” she looks back at David and smiles, “Hi daddy.”
It's a simple sentence, but it's the first time she’s addressed him. Despite her need to stay close to you, Isla wants to get to know David more. You can tell, but you don’t want to force anything.
This was for them.
“You wanna snack?” Isla’s arms are still wrapped around you, but she pulls away more and David gives a rueful smile, nods.
“I’d love a snack.”
“Yay!!” Isla looks at you and raises her eyebrows, “Mommy, want peanut butter.”
You flicker your eyes over to David who hasn’t moved, hands still in his pockets and you smile.
“How about we have a snack at the table?”
“Yes!” Isla says as you move over to the table. Isla’s about average for her size, has a special chair to sit in to eat at the table with. You explain as much to David as he follows you to the dining room as you clip her in. He takes a seat next to her, then further away, then back to sitting next to her.
“Isla, wanna tell daddy your favorite color?”
Isla’s eyes light up as she looks over at David.
“Bue. Like eyes.” she points to her eyes and David smiles.
“I like the color blue too.” his voice is broken, uncertain and you grab two apples, carrots, and a jar of crunchy peanut butter.
“What’s your favorite animal Isla?”
“Oh um. Ummm. It goes roar." She does her best imitation of a lion and David's smile grows larger as he leans in and asks,
“A lion?”
“Yes. Roar.” she says it again and you sigh,
“She loves the Lion King. And Monsters Inc. Get ready to be inundated by them.”
He laughs as you begin cutting the fruit and apples, spooning peanut butter into two bowls.
“Mommy….?” she frowns at your back, and you turn just in time to see her turn to David.
“Daddy? Gracie? Ms. Rachel?”
David moves his eyes quickly to you and you smile as you say,
“She wants to watch Gracie’s Corner or Ms. Rachel. Since we’re getting to know each other I say Gracie’s Corner. Better background noise. And she may or may not engage.”
“Okay,” he huffs as he looks over at Isla who looks at him expectantly. “Gracie’s corner?”
Isla smiles and laughs.
“Yes!”
“Uhhhh on the TV?”
“Yes daddy, silly daddy.”
“But after our snack right.” You say and Isla pouts, furrows her eyes at you. David can’t help the silent chuckle that comes out of him. She had your attitude but that look was distinctly his.
“Notice how manipulative she can be.” you say, bringing over the snacks and David laughs and smiles.
This girl already had him wrapped around his finger.
Better if she didn’t know yet.
_
They eat their snacks together while you ask Isla simple questions about the day. You also bring David into the conversation, he appreciates it, and after thirty minutes Isla addresses him as much as she does you.
He doesn’t trust it, not yet, he’s worried she’s just being polite.
“You know, daddy got you a gift because he’s been gone so long solving cases. You should ask him nicely for it.”
You say it after you all have moved to the living room and Isla’s eyes perk up from where she sits on the floor, Gracie’s Corner no longer a priority. Instead, she gets up and moves over to where David sits beside you and squeals,
“Present?”
She’s stopped directly in front of him, her curly hair falling in her face. She’s more comfortable around him but there is still a hesitantancy, an uncertainty and he respects it as he gets up from the couch.
“Yeah just something I got while….I was away.”
Isla claps as she falls back on her bottom, squealing as she looks over at you. You scrunch your face at her, sharing a smile as David grabs the wrapped books, moving carefully back to where Isla sits.
“Ohhhhhh gimme gimme!!” she’s excited, she wiggles in her seated position and you laugh as you say,
“Isla. What do we say?”
“Peeeasssse daddy?”
Her eyes blink up towards him innocently and he smiles as he seats across from her, gifts in tow.
“Okay. Start with this one.”
“Yay!!”
She nearly snatches the gift from his hands, you roll your eyes as you say,
“We’re working on manners.” and he laughs as he watches her unwrap the gift.
“Ooo book! Read?”
You glance over, Where the Wild Things Are, its one she hasn’t read yet and David looks over to you.
“Don’t look at me! She’s going to want to read it over and over again, and then she’s going to remember there’s more gifts so it's up to you.”
David smiles as he looks back at Isla.
“All right, I can read it, Isla.”
He ends up reading it to her three times; she was fascinated by the illustrations and she appreciates that he does different voices for each character. But then, as you had correctly guessed, she remembers the other three gifts and goes about unwrapping them and begging to read each one at least three times.
She laughs loudly when he reads The Day the Crayons Quit, and claps excitedly at When You Give a Mouse a Cookie, especially because it's your favorite and you listen just as enthusiastically as David read it.
By the time Isla unwraps Goodnight Moon he’s worried it’ll be too simple, too boring compared to the other books he’s read. Except Isla’s mouth drops open in pure excitement, before her eyes flicker over to David as she squeals,
“Goonight Moon!!”
“You know it?” he asks awkwardly and Isla nods her head.
“I like it a lot.”
Her small hands trace over the cover reverently and David clears his throat as he says,
“That’s a special copy. Um, your grandma…..my mom, she got it for me when I was little like you. It's my favorite.”
You snap your eyes over to David. You knew about this book because David had told you about it a long time ago. It was one of the few things he cherished in life, one of the few things he had from his childhood, from his mother.
He never outright told you this, but you knew he wanted to give the unborn children you both always spoke about this book when they were born.
It was why you unconsciously never bought it for Isla, even though she was obsessed with it and demanded it be read anytime they were at a library.
“Moon. I like moon.” Isla says again, it's low and happy before she moves her eyes over to where David sits and crawls into his lap, book in tow.
“Read!”
She’s happily settled in the crook between his thighs, book on her thighs and David freezes for a second. Her small frame is warm, she smells like a combination of you - vanilla and flowers - and fresh berries. He opens the book, having to lean a bit as he begins,
“In the great green room…”
David slowly goes through the pages, their weathered and worn but they still capture memories from a lifetime ago. When he finishes, on cue Isla asks to be read it again so he does.
Four times he does.
By third time the reality of what is happening has hit him hard; Isla has leaned fully back onto him, her hands falling on top of his as they turn the page. She mumbles the words alongside him and when they finally get to the last page the tears he’s been trying to keep in win.
You watch, desperate to hold him, guilt eating at you. Of anyone, you shouldn’t have kept Isla from him. David deserved family.
The tears hit you too.
One falls on Isla’s hand, she shifts and looks up to David who gives her a soft smile.
“Sorry - daddy just got really happy.”
Isla watches him for a second, before shifting so she can wipe his face of tears.
“It's okay daddy. I’m happy too. I have you and I have the moon.”
She hugs him and he hugs her back, resting his head on top of hers. You pull out your phone, snap a photo.
The first of many.
_________
All content was written originally by me @peacefulwriter88; you do not have the right to repost, use, or market as your own work.
nooooo it cant end there! i need more! i need them to kiss and hug and make up and i need more dad david immediately, i need them to be a happy family together! ugh im so obsessed with them!
For the next one, make sure I’m around okay?
THE NEXT ONE!!!???!?!? AHJFSAJHGDFAKLGFDHJFDA
He winks at you as you nod, face heating up. A flicker of hope blooms in your chest,
STOPPPP....my hearttttt
Primarily because you knew you’d happily seduce him into trying for a second if he gave you the chance.
yes we mf would girl!
which is police to her, so anytime she sees one or hears one she always asks if it's you.
stopp she knows daddy is police, thats so cute
“...daddy have snack too?”
somebody get this girl a snack lmaoo she hungry. love this.
Summary: frank castle x reader in which reader is the embodiment of this meme- “i’ll kick anyone’s ass. i’ll kick your ass. i’ll kick your dog’s ass. i’ll kick my own ass."
Content Warnings: none, I think? Let me know if I missed anything.
Word Count: 1300-ish
Authors note: “Francis Castle, I’m going to kick your ass” (affectionate) Please comment and reblog, thank you for your support! I reblog all my dividers, search “dividers” on my blog.
Main Masterlist
She stood about 5’3” with fiery eyes and a soul that matched. She was lacking in the height department, but she sure made up for it with rage, spite, attitude, and an almost frightening amount of passion.
She was mean- not cruel. Never cruel.
Just mean in the way that made people who knew her best grin when she started getting loud and telling them off. She had no patience for bullshit, no tolerance for disrespect, and if she was pissed off- absolutely no problem telling a grown man twice her size exactly where he could go.
But for the people she loved? She would go to war. She'd fight for them, defend them, feed them, fuss over them, and threaten bodily harm on anyone who so much as looked at them wrong.
She was fierce.
Bold.
Unapologetic.
She loved with the same ferocity she fought with- loudly, completely, and without apology.
And Frank Castle loved every damn bit of it.
When he met her
Frank had been on his way home when the smell stopped him.
Garlic.
He inhaled deeper.
Basil. Tomatoes simmering in olive oil.
Fresh bread.
Something rich and cheesy underneath it all.
His stomach growled.
Frank stopped on the sidewalk, inhaling deeply for the third time. The smell was familiar, smelled like something his Ma used to make when he was a kid. The memory was distant and faint, but smell was the most powerful trigger of all, right?
Across the street was a restaurant he'd never noticed before. The door was propped open, warm light spilling onto the pavement.
Frank glanced toward his apartment. He could go home, eat whatever sad, questionable leftovers were sitting in his refrigerator.
As if on queue, his stomach growled again.
“Yeah, alright.”
He crossed the street.
The restaurant was warm and crowded, filled with the clatter of silverware and conversation.
Frank had barely sat down when he heard a booming voice coming from the kitchen.
“TONY!”
He looked toward the kitchen.
A man's voice answered. “What?”
“What the hell is this?”
“I made what ya asked for.” The guy said in the most stereotypical Italian accent Frank had ever heard.
Frank's mouth curved upward into a small smile.
“You made something. I asked for eggplant parm!”
That almost earned a chuckle from Frank.
The waiter standing beside him sighed. “She's gonna kill somebody.”
Frank glanced at him.
“Who?”
“The owner.”
Frank laughed under his breath.
Then the kitchen doors swung open and a lady came waltzing through like she owned the place- turns out she did.
Frank had expected the voice to belong to someone bigger.
Instead— A woman who couldn't be more than five feet and a few inches tall, with a head full of wild curls that were pulled back, the edges of them unruly from sweat.
She was wearing a black apron over a cream colored shirt. She had flour dusting one forearm.
She was beautiful..and absolutely furious.
“Goin’ to go all Gordon Ramsey on all your asses!"
The man behind the counter peeked out the kitchen window easily twice her size, raised his hands in defeat. “Okay, boss.”
She rolled her eyes but a genuine smile crossed her face when she was out of the cook’s eyeline.
She then turned towards the host stand, as she did she looked over the dining room- and caught Frank watching her.
His eyes darted back to the menu and, hell, he sat up a little straighter too.
When he glanced back, she was still looking at him;
She smiled.
At him.
Frank wasn't used to that these days.
The waiter came over.
“What can I get for you?”
Frank looked toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, uh.. Gimme the eggplant parm.”
“Good choice.”
The waiter took the menu and went to put his order in.
Frank watched the pretty lady disappear through the swinging doors again.
He didn't know her.
Didn't know her name or anything about her.
But for some reason, Frank Castle immediately had a soft spot for her.
-
He took his first bite of eggplant parm twenty minutes later.
It was excellent.
Frank looked toward the kitchen again. Maybe he'd be back.
For the food, obviously.
Definitely not for the pretty woman who was capable of controlling an entire kitchen of men twice her size with nothing but a glare and a raised voice.
At least, that's what he told himself.
He didn't know she'd eventually call him handsome.
He didn't yet know that he'd eventually learn her coffee order, her favorite wine, the names of every member of her family, and exactly what expression meant she'd had a bad day.
Didn't know she'd threaten to kick his ass when she was worried about him or that she'd become one of the few people he'd trust completely.
He certainly didn't know that the tiny woman yelling about eggplant parmesan would eventually become the woman he loved.
–
By the time Frank and she were living together, the restaurant wasn't the only place where she ran a tight ship. Their apartment had rules- well not rules per say, but things that she preferred.
Shoes came off by the door, dirty dishes didn't live in the sink overnight. Frank was absolutely forbidden from leaving his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair because, according to her, “That's what a closet is for, Francis.”
Frank had been home for maybe twenty minutes when she came around the corner and nearly went down. She was used to looking straight ahead- to avoid a tray of spilled drinks or entrees, he was surprised she didn’t yell “corner!” when she was at home too.
She caught herself against the wall then looked down.
“Frank?!” she yelled, her voice carrying through the entire apartment
“Yeah?!” he yelled back
“ ‘M goin’t kick your ass! You left your damn boots in the doorway! I just tripped over ‘em!”
There was a brief pause.
“You okay?!”
“I'm fine!” she said, seething.
A few seconds later, Frank appeared in the living room, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, dish water wetting the fabric.
The second he saw her standing there, arms crossed and glaring at him, that lopsided grin she adored slowly spread across his face.
“Sorry, hon.”
She narrowed her eyes.
Frank glanced toward the doorway, then back at her.
“Maybe if ya watched where you was goin’, you wouldn’t trip over ’em.”
His grin widened into a full-blown, shit-eating smile.
Her hands immediately went to her hips. “What did you just say?”
“M’ just sayin’ maybe you should watch where you're walking, babydoll.” he taunted, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Francis Castle, I'll kick your ass!”
“Do it. You won't." Frank taunted.
Her hands stayed planted on her hips, her eyes narrowed even more and her nose scrunched slightly.
She didn't have to say anything, Frank knew that look. (and he loved it and thought it was adorable, but he'd never dare tell her that.)
“You're really in for it now, Frankie.” She stressed the syllables of his nickname and he knew he was really about to get it.
He walked over to the boots. He picked them up, putting them neatly beside the shoe rack. “There.”
She looked at them.
Then at him. “Better.”
“Happy?”
“Very.” She said, trying desperately not to smile.
She failed.
The happiness on Frank's face when he was teasing her was her favorite thing. (But she’d never tell him that.)
Frank stepped closer. “C’mere.”
"No. You went and pissed me off.” she defended, trying to maintain her composure, but it was slipping.
Frank huffed a small laugh. She was ridiculous, he knew she didn't really care about his boots by the door or his jacket on the back of the chair, she just loved to give him shit about it. And he loved throwing it right back at her.
“Keep laughing at me and see what happens.”
“Yeah, yeah. My tough girl, I know.” He crooned. “Meanest in all’a New York.”
She crossed her arms over her chest
Frank reached for her anyway, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She tried to resist for approximately two seconds before melting against him.
Frank kissed the top of her head.
“Love you.”
Her expression softened as she hugged him back. “Love you too.”
Tags: I don't believe I have anyone for my frank castle tag list yet? let me know if you want to be added. (Panics and tags @hellilovedit @saintcastiglione @jakegyllenhaalscharacters )
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
thinking about kurt being the only one piotr really knows when he comes to the mansion. thinking about piotr having already lost one of the most important people in his life. thinking about piotr finding out kurt died, after everyone else returns from beating apocalypse... would he resent the fact that he didn't leave behind a body? that he couldn't cradle it like he did illyana? or would he be grateful, that he does not have a second corpse to haunt him? would he hate himself for not being there or resent hank for allowing it? would he stay up cursing himself for not staying with the x-men? for giving up what little time he had left, every little moment he didn't know would be one of the last?
him painting kurt and illyana, illyana and kurt, blue and yellow... this show makes me sick (positive)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
me: mmm this thing this person said rubs me the wrong way, but they probably didn't mean it like that, I'm just overreacting, there's no need to block them or respond
the beloved mutual: just blocked someone for liking the colour blue ✌️
