#dad!frank

frank castle who loves to call himself dad. “let dad get that, sweetheart.” “don’t worry about it, that’s dad’s business.” “y’gonna make dad bend you over his knee?” “c’mon pretty girl, give dad a smile.”

doesn’t take attitude once he’s got you knowing better. talking back, stomping your foot or pouting? he’s got you bent over his knee, making you count as he spanks you and starting over if you forget.

frank castle who’s got you pulled against him, bare back pressed against his chest and legs spread as he plays with your pussy. kisses your hairline and tells you how good you’re being for him. his hands are rough and calloused but his fingers are so thick that it makes you forget about any discomfort as he stuffs you full.

“I know honey, fillin you up. being such a good girl for dad, yeah? always so good for me.”

if you act out he’s narrowing his eyes and frowning. “where’d my good lil girl go, huh? where’s she at?”

usually that works and you’re reverting back to the sweet girl he knows you are, lip wobbling as you climb into his lap and apologize for being so mean. he’s kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you. “‘s okay, honey. i know you forget sometimes. that’s why i’m here, to help you remember.”

but sometimes, sometimes, you just don’t wanna listen to dad. maybe you’re mad that he’s out on a job much later than he said he’d be. you’re pouting on the couch when he gets home, dinner not eaten, shower not taken, and up way past your bedtime. he doesn’t even bother taking off his boots, simply thudding over until he’s standing in front of you.

“what’s this?” he’s asking, though he clearly knows the answer as you glare up at him. you cross your arms, frowning because you don’t want to tell him why you’re upset. he should know!

this makes him sigh and he’s crossing his arms right back at you. “use your words, honey.”

you start to mumble your way through an explanation, chin tucked as you grow shy under his gaze. he’s reaching out and grabbing your chin between his fingers, moving your head up so you have no choice but to look at him. this makes you mad. who does he think he is, being gone so late and then coming back and trying to correct you??

so you pull back from his grasp, huffing as you do so. there’s a flash of something in his eyes, too quick to register as he clenches his jaw and straightens up. he’s meeting you where you’re at, the two of you in a stand off.

“you said you’d be home.” you all but whine, looking up up at him and resisting the urge to throw at fit at the unimpressed look he gives you. “had to work, honey. you know that.” his voice isn’t soft like it usually is, it’s low and laced with disappointment. it makes your heart drop.

you decide to double down, you’ve already made it this far so what’s a bit further? “you’re gone too late. i wanna eat dinner with you. i want to see you before i go to bed. it’s not fair!” you sound like a spoiled child at this point but can’t find it in yourself to care when the frustration bubbles over like this. it’s hard to tell him that you get scared. scared that he won’t come home, even though he promised and dad always keeps his promises. scared that you’ll be all alone, without him to guide you and it makes your stomach churn.

frank pinches the bridge of his nose. he’s too tired for this kind of behavior but he can see how upset you are. the way your voice cracks and those fears slip through. that’s a bit besides the point when you’re starting to throw a tantrum.

“i make the rules, yeah? i keep us safe. you gotta listen to me, honey. it’s for your own good. you know that” he’s reaching down to pet your face, wanting nothing more than to see his sweet little girl come back to him.

but you’re ramping up into something ugly, the past few months of things you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about bubbling up. you jerk away from his touch. “no.”

there’s a flash of hurt across his face as you pull away, his hand lingering by your hair for a moment before dropping back down to his side. he’s getting real fed up with you now. “no?” he parrots back and you’re swallowing harshly because he doesn’t sound nice anymore. his eyes are narrowed and he’s staring down at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

you squirm under his gaze and duck your chin again. the anger is slowly seeping away into something worse, a sadness that threatens to eat you alive. frank clicks his tongue, your body responding before you can process and you’re looking back up at him with wet eyes. “i don’t think so, honey. where’d those big words go? you were feelin’ so brave just a second ago.”

he looks so disappointed in you and the tears that have been welling up since he got home finally begin to slip down your face. frank doesn’t say anything, just watches as you start to hiccup and cry. it’s hard for him, seeing you like this but he can’t reward bad behavior.

there’s nothing in your head as you whimper for him, a string of broken “dad, dad, dad.” slipping from your lips as you reach out and clutch at his pants. you’re pressing your face against him, breathing in his scent as you try, and fail, to stop the tears from coming.

frank relents, he hates seeing his girl so upset. he’s running a big hand through your hair, settling on the nape of your neck as you weep. “know you’re upset, pretty girl. ‘m sorry i was gone so long. know you get lonely without me.”

you’ve made him soft, that pesky muscle in his chest squeezing pathetically with every little whimper and cry from you. “but you know why i gotta do it. i do it for you, baby. helps keep you safe, keeps everyone safe. i keep my girl safe, yeah?” he’s prompting you now, brushing a hand over your cheek to turn you enough so he can see your eyes

you sniffle and nod. “dad always keeps me safe.” you whisper and he smiles at that. it makes your heart soar and head feel light. then, he’s tightening his grip against your neck, effectively scuffing you as his smile drops. “so you know why i can’t let this go, yeah?”

and that’s how he gets you bent over his knee, tears streaming down your face as he spanks you raw. your skin is swollen and stinging, he’s not holding back in his hits tonight. the next hit has you jolting across his lap and you whimper, hands scrambling for purchase as your hips tilt away.

“where you goin’, pretty girl?” he asks, hand smoothing over the throbbing skin while you choke on a sob. frank’s hauling you back into his lap as you squirm, the bulge in his pants pressing into your stomach and making you whimper. “c’mon, sweetheart. you know the rules. can’t just let you act out like this. where would you be then, huh? spoiled rotten and such a brat. can’t have that, can we?”

you’re shaking your head, hands moving to his thigh as your fingers curl against the fabric. frank rubs a thumb across your cheek, collecting the fresh tears that spill. “you can take a few more for me, yeah?” he’s murmuring and you’re nodding your head because all you want now is to be good. the fight drained out of you ten hits ago.

he pets your hair as he strikes you four more times, shushing your cries as you twitch against him. then, he’s pulling you into his lap, pressing kisses against your puffy face. “did so good for me, angel. ‘m so proud of you, took it so well for dad.”

part two to this post

you're on your back with your knees spread, one hand holding the phone up to your ear and the other twisted in matt's hair. as punishment for sending a nude picture to frank behind matt's back, he's been between your legs for what feels like hours, teasing you. in addition to your physical torture, he's also humiliating you in front of frank.

frank picks up the phone on the second ring and, as always, he's worried something bad happened to you.

"hey, baby, are you okay? something wrong?" he asks.

Frank Iero, the dad that burns pancakes and drinks coffee every breakfast. he says good morning, you say it back. you notice the burnt pancakes and try to suppress a giggle.

he sees this, calling you "little shithead" and ruffles your hair as you finally let out a load of laughs. Frank chuckles and decides to settle on cereal for breakfast. you eat silently. too silently.

the dad who pays attention. he takes notice to how you're so quiet, as you're usually atleast talking. "whats up, kiddo?" as he pours milk into his bowl of cereal. you say you're fine, he knows you arent.

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: The Pitt (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Frank Langdon/Dennis Whitaker Characters: Dennis Whitaker, Frank Langdon, Trinity Santos, Dana Evans, Dennis has a twin sister (OC), Yolanda Garcia, Abby Langdon, Tanner Langdon, Penny Langdon Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dennis Whitaker Has Religious Trauma, Gay Dennis Whitaker, Bi Frank Langdon, Divorced Frank Langdon, Dennis Whitaker Needs a Hug, Switch Frank Langdon, Switch Dennis Whitaker, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker, Misogyny, Sexism, Homophobia, Emotional Abuse, Religious Guilt, Medical Inaccuracies, Langdon’s Kids, guilty sex at some point, Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker are Roommates, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Whump, langtaker, past mentions of child abuse, Frank Langdon is a Good Dad, Original Female Character/s (OC), GarSantos Situationship, pediatrician au, no beta we die like Louie, Dennis Whitaker Has Daddy Issues, Forced Proximity, Found Family, Soft Dom Frank Langdon, Protective Frank Langdon, Post-Rehab Frank Langdon, Frank Langdon is Down Bad, Bible Quotes Summary:

Pediatrician Dennis Whitaker treats Frank Langdon’s children after an accident leading the recently divorced Langdon to reconsider his isolation and loneliness.

Or

he would just be helicopter dad TO THE MAX but also so patient and just emotional at absolutely everything. he would save every piece of art work, insist on marking a doorframe of the kid’s height, yell/jump/scream when the training wheels come off the bike (and then cry in private, obviously), be at every single dance recital with bouquets of flowers, be at every single soccer game/practice with excess waters and snacks, gets more excited at exploding volcano science projects, sneaks and puts extra book fair money in their backpack…..