#Punisher imagines

[dameronology]

Maybe now some protective (and fluffy) Frank Castle? 💗

fluffy and protective frank is the best kind of prank

frank is protective from day one; you're probably the only person left on this earth that he actually gives a shit about, and he will act accordingly. maybe it's a little over the top sometimes but hell, can you blame him?

it's nothing drastic. nothing that drastic. sure, you might have to convince him that you don't need him to escort you to the shop that is literally below your apartment but like...it's nice that he cares.

and maybe he insists on you sleeping furthest from the door, so he's first to see an intruder. and maybe after a few months he can't sleep without knowing you're beside him. but they're all just a stark reminder that, despite popular belief, frank is a human being

that over-protectiveness crosses into tenderness; the way he sleeps with his chest against your back at night, arms wrapped tightly around you, head buried in your neck. the way he kisses you goodbye in the morning, and then again in the evening. the way he seems slightly panicked when you're a few minutes late home, or when your phone dies.

frank never sees his love for you as a weakness. if anything, it's his strength. it's the thing that keeps him going, the thing that makes him want to come at the end of a shit night.

and god forbid anyone ever lay a finger on you, because he's rabid at the best of times but he will lose every last bit of mercy should anyone come near you. it's a side of him he'd never want you to see, but equally, you know it's there.

you know frank loves you because he lets you look after him too; letting you hold him after a ptsd attack, actually opening up to you about stuff that not even the world's most expensive therapist could get out of him. he lays himself bare to you and that speaks louder than anything.

#asks #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #frank castle fluff #frank castle headcanons #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #punisher imagine #the punisher #frank castle

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Frank Castle taking care of you during a depression spell.

You woke up when the alarm clock started to blare. It was time for Frank to get up and go to work. He did his usual thing, rolled over, gave you a kiss. You did your usual thing, complained about his morning breath, which would make him kiss you more to spite him. Then you’d lay there in bed while he got ready, grabbed the lunch that you made the night before, and then would go. Only things were a little different behind the scenes today. You didn’t care about his morning breath. You only brought it up because you did it every day. You almost forgot to make his lunch the night before, having to drag yourself up and do it after he turned in. A lot had been slipping your mind these days. A lot of things just didn’t feel as important as they used to.

You went back to sleep. Your own alarm went off an hour later. Work. You didn’t feel like getting up, going to your computer. You couldn’t even get yourself up to do anything, much less work from home. It just felt - like too much. Too stressful. You texted your boss, and then rolled over, fell asleep again.

Countless times throughout the day, you woke up. But you didn’t get up. You had to pee but - the bathroom seemed so far away. You just held it instead. You didn’t feel that hungry either. You just - stared out the window. You should have gone to work. You should have showered. Your hair was feeling a bit greasy. You should have done the dishes. They were piled up in the sink. You should have made lunch for yourself, but - no. No, you just didn’t feel like it. You didn’t want to do anything. Pee, eat, brush your teeth.

The door opened. The sky had darkened. Frank called out that he was home. You didn’t call back. You just pushed the blankets up over your head. Hiding. Ashamed. He found you in the bed after a minute, after you heard him searching through the kitchen. You heard him set something down. He sat on the bed, causing you to roll slightly towards him. He took the blankets off of you, forcing you to face him.

“You sick or something?” He asked. You shrugged. He pressed his lips to your forehead to take your temperature. An old trick. “You don’t feel sick.”

“I’m fine,” You said. “Just - feeling...”

“Oh,” Frank said. He understood. It had been a while since you had one of your lows. But these times still came. He kissed your forehead again, pushed your hair away from your face. “I got you one of those expensive fancy fuckin’ coffees you like. Why I gotta pay six bucks for a coffee and some whipped cream, I’ll never understand-” He passed you what he had set down before. Starbucks. Your favorite. The smell hit your nostrils and you wished you could say that it was enough to make you feel better but... You shook your head. He set it back down and looked at you. “So what am I going to do with you then?”

“It’s fine, Frank, it’s just a bad day. I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Too late for me,” He said. “Come on, get up.” Against your will, he took the blanket off of you, grabbed your arms and pulled you up like you were nothing more than a ragdoll. He threw you over his strong shower. “We’re getting you in the shower and then you are not putting that six dollars to waste.”

Requested by: Anonymous

#Frank Castle #frank castle x reader #Frank Castle imagines #Punisher #Punisher imagines #Daredevil #Daredevil imagines #x reader #imagines #frankc #request

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Apartment 5c

Pairing: Frank Castle/Punisher x reader

Warnings: based on a dream i had involving Mr. Punisher, you and your friend move to NYC, fictional violence, mentions of a handgun, mentions of blood and wounds, you help patch up Frank, some tension, cops

You and your friend had just moved to New York City. Your friend's job had offered a free flight and the first 6 months paid months in return for the big promotion she just went through. As soon as she found out, she told you. Excited and giddy, she offered you to join her in the big city, saying she could pull some strings and have your seat paid for and for a bigger apartment that would comfortably fit you both. She gave you three days to think about it, and halfway through the second you decided to join her, having done research and noting the many amazing jobs that New York offered.

It took you and your friend about a week to get settled into your apartment, only three blocks from her work. Your own job started in the next week as a higher-up book editor. Life was good.

Until now, when you arrived at your apartment door. You usually get home before your friend, so that's normal that she isn't home. But what's unusual is the fact that your front door is cracked open. You kick it open more, eyes searching the parts of the room you can see. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but your gut tells you otherwise. You start to make your way to the lobby, but don't make it far before you feel something pressed against the side of your head. You freeze, staring ahead.

"You live here?" The person asked.

You don't respond, your vocal chords dried up.

"I said," The person shoved the object against your head. "Do you live here?!"

You stutter before responding, "Ye-yes!"

"You know Clark?" The person asks.

"Clark?" You ask, confused.

"Clark Johnson?" The person pressed.

"Umm uh, no," You answer. "I've never heard of him."

"I don't believe you," The person growled.

You heard something click and panic immediately set in, but before you can plead for you life the person is shoved to the ground. It's a short-haired blond man with a handgun in his hand, probably what he had shoved against your head. You look to the side and see the man's assaultant.

There stands a tall man with short dark brown, almost black hair, and a clean-shaven face. His eyes are dark, darker as his brows are furrowed. He's wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, black jeans, and a thick vest over his abdomen that has a blood-stained skull on the majority of it. He looks towards you and then back at the blond-haired man as he races towards your possible savior.

Your savior knocks the other guy's gun from his hand and punches him in the jaw when he's close enough. The blond man stumbles, holding his jaw before charging again. He makes contact and both men tussle, fear pining you against the opposite wall of your front door, still wide open.

Blood is sprayed across the hallway walls and spilt onto the expensive-looking carpet below. The impact of punches sound throughout the hallway before the taller of the two, your savior, rushes the bad guy, shoving him down the hallway and out the end-of-the-hallway window. There's no fire exit outside those windows and your apartment is pretty high up, so you know the guy fell to his death. You hear a crash out the window and screams of the public below.

Your savior is bloody and bruises, a fat eye beginning to swell. He picks up your assaulter's gun and checks the magazine, making a grunting sound as he clicks it back into place. He eyes your doorway and then looks at you.

"Change your locks," Is what he says in a gruff voice. "Seems like he had a key."

And he's off, down the stairwell to make a quiet escape, bloody footprints highlighting his path.

You race downstairs to the lobby, as fast as an elevator will take you, and hurriedly talk to the building manager, who you and your friend have come to know well over this past week and a half, about what just happened. He helps you calm down and calls the police for you. You lead the police up to your floor and recall the details of what just happened, including the guy who was pushed out the window.

The lead cop calls for forensics and sends some of his partners down the stairwell to follow the footsteps, some to look at the body, and some to look around your apartment with you to make sure nothing is missing.

Forensics arrives, taking pictures of the blood in the hallway, the footprints in the stairwell that stop around the third floor, the body out in the street, and anything that seems to be amiss in your apartment. Your asked questions, which you answer. Your friend arrives just at the start of your explanation, asking questions as well.

Once the questioning is done, the lead cop and your manager take you and your friend down to the building's security room. The guard takes you four back to when the blond guy had used a key to open your apartment door. You all watched it til you fled downstairs.

The lead cop wants a copy of the footage and you, your friend, and the building manager's phone number so he can keep you updated on your case.

While your manager calls a locksmith to change the locks on your front door and to double-check the locks on all your windows, the lead cop is doing a second run-through of the video before he cusses quietly.

"What?" You ask, suddenly more concerned.

"That's Frank Castle," The cop answered.

"Who's Frank Castle?" Your friend asks.

"He's New York's so-called vigilante," The cop answers. "He's worse than Spiderman in Queens."

"You not a big fan of superheros?" Your friend asks.

"Superheros?" The cop laughs, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "I don't think other superheros kill as much as Castle does. He causes more loss than gain."

Your friend only hums. Turning around when the door to the security office opens. It's the locksmith. He says your locks are changed and your windows are perfectly okay, just remember to lock them when you're out or asleep.

You and your friend make your way back to your apartment when you're let go. You both mill around your apartment, putting things back to how you like it, putting the new keys on your keychains, and locking all your windows. You don't know how long it takes your friend to fall asleep, but it feels like it takes you for forever.

-- --

It's only a couple months later when something else happens. You're all alone in your apartment when it happens, your friend staying the night at her new boy toy's house. You hear something fidgeting in the living room. You investigate and find one of your living room windows all the way open and a man crawling through. You stay still at the end of your hallway, hoping that the night shadows conceal you away.

The man gets about halfway through your window before another hand reaches in and grabs the man at the base of his hair, pulling him back and slamming his head on the edge of your window. In shock, the man falls into your living room. Both men get into a tussle, impacts of fists and grunts sound throughout the room. A flash and gunshot sounds through the room followed by a yell of pain. The tussling continues, cussing and pained noises follow before they fall through the window, a fire escape outside.

Now that the two men are outside, the fight seems to get more gruesome and violent. Gunshots sounding out and maybe even the tink of a blade hitting metal before a grunt and the sound of someone falling down the fire escape stairs.

Sirens grow in the distance, and the sound of squealing tires.

The other man, the one that showed up later, scrambles inside your apartment, slamming your window shut. He wheezes, hand cupping the left side of his ribcage.

Before your brain realizes what your body is doing, the light switch is flicked on and your living room is illuminated. Standing beside your window is the man from the month before, bloody and bruised once again. What was his name? Something Castle. You're not very good with names.

You two stare at each other, shocked.

It's only when a knock sounds on your door does Castle have the notion to move, moving to slide behind your kitchen island, crouching down to hide.

You move to peer out the window and relax when you see it's a cop. You open your window and greet the officer.

"We were called to this area and we were just making sure you're okay, ma'am," the officer says.

"Umm yeah," You say. "I heard some commotion outside and was wondering what was going on."

"Nothing for you to worry about this late at night," The officer says. "Just be sure to lock your windows from now on."

You nod and bid goodnight and do as he says, closing your curtains as well. You turn and notice the blood spilt from earlier was minimum and that's why the officer didn't ask about anything that could have happened.

You hear a grunt and look to see Castle heaving himself from your floor, still wheezing.

"You got a first aid kit?" He asks.

"Um uh- yeah," You answer. "In my bathroom."

He nods and walks towards you. You take it as a sign to lead the tall man to your bedroom to get to your bathroom. You fish the first aid kit from under your sink, handing it to the man.

He sets in the counter beside your sink. Opening it and looking through your supplies. It seems your supplies is up to his standards because the tall man immediately starts stripping himself of anything that covers his abdomen.

You look away as the clothing and vest plop onto your floor, blood smudging onto the white tile of the bathroom floor. You hear the clinking of your medical supplies being shuffled around.

"Umm," You speak up. "Do you need help? I know how to stitch and stuff."

"And stuff?" Castle asks, his voice gruff.

You nod.

Castle nods reluctantly, tensing when you get close.

This close, you see a few stab wounds and a few bullet grazes, but nothing that looks life-threatening. You grab a black wash rag from under your sink, get it wet, and begin wiping Castle's chest and abdomen down, cleaning off the smeared blood. You set the rag in the sink and tear open some antibiotic wipes from your first aid kit and start cleaning up the wounds. He hisses, flinching away when you clean up one on his arm. Once done, you grab a needle and some stitching thread and get that ready. You sterilize the needle.

"Wait wait," Castle stops you. "Got any whiskey of vodka?"

"Yeah. I'll go get a bottle," You hand him the needle and fetch some of your stronger whiskey.

You unscrew the cap for him and hand the bottle to Castle. You wait for him to take a, rather large, swig before you start stitching the wounds that need it. You can tell it hurts but you can only stitch someone up right so fast. Once done, you place bandaids on the smaller wounds.

You turn to grab the rag from before, rinsing it out before using it again on his face. Your hands shake when you wipe down his face, meeting his eyes when he winces away when you wipe over a split in his left eyebrow.

"Sorry," You mutter.

Castle grunts.

You change the rag for a different antibiotic wipe, wiping around his scraps and cuts. You put bandaids on his larger cuts.

"You want an icepack for your eye?" You ask, noting the swelling under his right eye. "It'll help with the swelling."

"Sure," Castle nods.

You clean up your first aid kit, wrapping the needle in toilet paper before tossing it in the bathroom trashcan. You lead the way to your kitchen. You search for the icepack and whirl around when you find it, bumping straight into Castle's chest.

"Sorry," You mutter.

Castle wordlessly takes the icepack from your hands and puts it up to his eye, moving to sit at your kitchen island.

"Got anymore break-ins?" Castle asks.

"You remember," You note. "No, not counting tonight."

"That was less of a break-in and more of him getting away from me," Castle says.

"Cause you're New York's vigilante?" You ask.

"You meet Mr. I'm-In-Charge?" Castle asks, a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Umm.. I guess," You try to remember the cop's name that still gave you updates on your case as they tried and failed to hunt down Castle. "He's looking for you still."

"He finds any excuse to look for me," Castle says. "I'm no Daredevil in his eyes. I make more loss than gains."

"Daredevil?" You asks.

"Another one like me, not superhero and not villain."

You nod.

There's a few moments of silence between you both before you awkwardly cough.

"Well, it's late for me," You trail on. "So I'm gonna go to bed. Feel free to stay the night, but my friend comes back probably sometime tomorrow morning so try not to scare her."

"You just gonna let a random man stay in your apartment?" Castle asks.

"Considering you've saved my life at least twice, yes," You start walking to your bedroom. "Goodnight, Castle."

"Goodnight."

#aj posts #punisher #marvel #the punisher #frank castle #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #god that gif of castle is so hot #i love men covered in blood

[ghostwoe]

frank castle masterlist

** means nsfw content &. you are responsible for what you read, so minors please do not read / interact with any of my nsfw content.

COMING SOON !

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #frank castle imagine #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #punisher imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #frank castle #the punisher #marvel #mcu

[solmesia]

sex is nice and all but have you considered just laying there... holding your vampire lover... and talking about the first time you broke your oath...........

#you can imagine the dialogue im not good with words #my art #astarion x tav #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanart #but for anyone interested the first time i broke my oath was opening the prison cell in the Grove AFTER the tieflings left #there was a dead fucking goblin in there #im oath of vengeance i fucking know im supposed to punish sinners but larian this is stupid #what is the worst that can happen is that goblin's fucking ghost gonna go commit crime #paladins are so fucking fickle kdmhfgh

[999999999inadream]

toby fox needs to add like a bit of narration in deltarune abt kris like "they themmed they/themily down the stheirs" cus i cant go on seeing them constantly get he/himmed in yt comment sections

#this is my punishment for actually looking at yt comments isnt it #deltarune #kris dreemurr #maybe im looking too much into things but... #it also feels sorta. misogynistic when ppl default to he/him for androgynous/non binary characters #like ive seen multiple ppl use “well its understandable that ppl assume kris is a he when they have such masculine behaviours/hobbies” #the masculine behaviours and hobbies in question are being a prankster #i shit you not #like they called pranking... masc?? huh #can girls and others not get their silly on anymore?? #also like i said before with the exception of like frisk and chara like almost every nb character is masculinised #like napstablook monster kid #god there has to be more but my memory is shit atm and i also have to go eat dinner #but i wanna talk more abt like why it feels so misogynistic to me #i thinnk it has to do with the fact that defaulting to he/him just makes women feel like an afterthought. ig like unless its confirmed then #they must be a guy to be relevant or smth #and also like how much they gender entirely non gender specific things (see: pranking) #ofc it wouldnt be BETTER per se if they imagined these characters as girls but its smth ive noticed and i just get frustrated cus #it feels sexist but i cant FULLY articulate why #i feel like i had the answer a lil while ago but i forgot #i might come back to this who knows #wow ok rant over #for now

[allastoredeer]

Ya'll want to know the funniest shit?

I'm researching the era when Alastor was alive right now to get a better idea of both his character, the life he lived before Hell, and to hash out a backstory for him.

And so, apparently, Alastor lived through the Prohibition (which was basically the United States government illegalizing the manufacture, transportation, and sale of alcohol because they thought it was the cause of a lot of domestic violence and child abandonment).

Alastor canonically died in 1933.

Do you know how long the Prohibition lasted?

From 1920-1933.

ALASTOR LITERALLY DIED THE SAME YEAR ALCOHOL BECAME LEGAL AGAIN. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW BITTER HE MUST'VE BEEN?

The Prohibition officially ended on December 5, 1933, and now my headcanon is that Alastor died December 6, 1933. Literally the day after he could legally drink all the booze he wanted.

I am learning a LOT about New Orleans and the era Alastor lived through (including the gay community in the city at the time) which has been a lot of fun, and I just wanted to share that tidbit because it is so fucking funny to me.

#guys i just #its so funny #can you imagine Alastor gets the news #everything is awesome #the next day he's planning to go out drinking and have a good time #but first he needs to get rid of this body #it shouldn't take too long #just a few hours #and THEN this motherfucking hunter decides to ignore hunting laws and mistakes him for a deer #when he wakes up he's in Hell #I can just imagine the realization setting in #he's SO bitter and angry about it #he was about to get shit-faced and have a fun time at a party #and now he's suffering eternal punishment #he couldn't even get a proper drink first #it was just a fun tidit #ALSO #the gay community in New Orleans at the time is so fascinating #they literally entire communities and neighborhoods #and a lot of it was from mixed race people #and we know Alastor is mixed race #AH I have so so many thoughts #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon

[zephyrchama]

We know that Lucifer is canonically the only character that's said the F word in Obey Me!. Nobody else has outright sworn. (I know the others say stuff that gets censored and it's primarily for legal/content reasons but hear me out.)

We also know Lucifer has cast curses during events so that nobody remembers what he (and his brothers in multiple instances) looks like shirtless/naked or as a dame.

Is it possible that at some point Lucifer cursed MC to be a pure cinnamon roll, unable to hear the other characters' constant swearing? Cursed to only converse like life is a PG13 movie while everyone is actually incredibly vulgar.

#maybe it's a punishment for bad grades/behavior. maybe it's just for fun. #can you imagine Diavolo and Mephisto just casually swearing like sailors all the time. and MC has no idea. #MC and Luke sharing the same curse #barbatos doesn't actually say “oh my.” it's more like “young master what the f-” #obey me #obey me! #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanon #obey me x mc #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me headcanons #obey me mc

[cherboxishere]

Creature Vash but the HC that he half transforms under strong stress and dissociating episodes

#vash the stampede fanart #trigun fanart #vash the stampede #trigun the stampede #vashwood #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun vash #nicholas the punisher #nicholas d wolfwood #meryl stryfe #mashwood #creature vash #vashwood fanart #ok imagine like vash gets abducted for a few days #meryl and Ww are STRUGGLING to find him #when they finally do it’s in a room completely devastated #and vash is half transformed #completely dissociating #growling the second they get near cause he’s terrified #IM RAMBLING #GOOOOOODDDDDDDDDD

[privateanxieties]

sweet like wine

Summary: You realize how much you like it when Frank is vocal during sex.

Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n);

Words: 2.1k (18+ shameless smut, aural kink, fluff, intimacy, explicit consent, mutual masturbation, sexy voicemails, dirty talk, established relationship)

----------------------

The first time took you completely by surprise.

You weren't expecting a man of few words like Frank, quiet and brooding as he was, to become the picture of an enthusiastic lover once the lights went out and you found yourselves taking the next step in your relationship. That's not to say you didn't expect a certain… level of intensity. Frank was not a bland man — simple and direct, maybe, but he brought a particular devotion to everything he did. He didn't mince actions, or words for that matter. But he also didn't use too many of them regardless of the circumstances, so you didn't expect reality to be any different when it came to intimacy with him. You imagined him to be passionate, and you were not wrong. However, in all your fantasies (and there were plenty), he was always quietly focused. Encouraging, but not with words. Filthy, but never this articulate.

You take me so fuckin' well, baby.

That's it, soak my fingers, let me feel it.

Gonna come, sweetheart? Make a mess all over my cock?

It was nice to be wrong. So nice, in fact, that you almost came untouched just from listening to him tell you what he wanted to do to you the first time you made love. The noises that escaped his lips as he barely pressed his hips into yours drove you insane. He wouldn't let you have it until you asked, slowly and languidly grinding himself against you through the satin of your panties, enough to ruin them and fry your brain, but not enough to give you that rush of pleasure you were dying to get from him. He took his time with no issue, like the clock stopped moving the second he molded his lips to yours.

"That feel good?" he mumbled against your neck, biting down in response when you didn't answer right away, too lost in the warmth of his skin and the pretty noises he was making.

"Uh-huh," you moaned, shivering as he licked a path to your collarbones and his beard left a pleasant burn in its wake.

"You want more?" he taunted, placing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Yes, Frank." Then, thinking it not enough, you quietly added a 'please' on the end of a breathy whine as his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You came to learn you didn't have to beg with him, unless he wanted you to — because if you thought you liked it when Frank talked during sex, he was singularly focused on making you utter words that would make a fiend blush. You were resistant at first, partly because the more you'd talk, the less he would, and you couldn't have that. Yet pretty soon you realized that hearing you speak the filth you did to him garnered an interesting and previously unheard noise from your lover.

Frank's only response as you rode his cock and told him how well he filled you was to whine.

In retrospect, you couldn't have known that would be the thing to unlock a noise you didn't think possible, but you certaintly didn't complain when his hand grasped your jaw and his lips mashed to yours, trying desperately to stifle the alluring sound by pressing it into your mouth and making you dizzy with want. That sound worked to push you over the edge just as well as his skilled fingers on your clit. It got you so worked up that sometimes just the memory of it hitting you in the middle of the day was enough to heat up your skin and make you wish you had a recording of it. Which was how the real trouble started, when Frank left on a longer assigment from his contact at the CIA.

Now, you would be fine without him for a couple of weeks. You'd done it before, and you understood the nature of his work and how it'd be woven into your relationship. You knew that when he'd leave, it wouldn't be the same as going on a business trip. There was a strict no-contact rule he enforced, both because he often simply didn't have the means to get in touch and because it was the safest thing to do. He wouldn't put you in any jeopardy because he missed you, and you'd long ago accepted that as fact and respected his decision.

And that was the reason why a voicemail from Frank arriving dead in the middle of those fourteen days away almost provoked a heart attack— twice. First, because you thought something horrible had gone wrong. He was hurt. He was in trouble. Maybe this was all he could do to say goodbye. Your blood pressure couldn't have been any higher as your thumb inched towards the play button on the message, and you thought you could drop to your knees when the first thing to come out of the speakers was a long, drawn-out groan.

This was it. You were going to lose him. He was dying somewhere, alone, and you were never going to see him again.

"God, babygirl…"

You waited with bated breath, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and then the second uptick in your pulse occurred.

"Fuckin' miss you so much. Need to feel that tight pussy squeezin' my cock."

It wasn't hard, given how wound up you already were, for your body to make the switch from horrible adrenaline to an absolutely euphoric rush of pleasure. It happened so quickly that whiplash wasn't far behind, and you gripped the arm of the sofa as you slid down to the floor, unable to stand any longer. Heart beating wildly in your ears, you forced yourself to calm so as not to miss his next words.

"Wish you could see how you got me right now… fuckin' my own hand like a goddamn teenager," he groaned.

You couldn't have helped your reaction if you'd tried. Switching the phone to your other hand with a tell-tale tremor, your dominant one slipped down the front of your leggings and straight into your dampening underwear, fingers moving in tandem with the background noise your ears were hypnotized by. You could hear the motions of Frank's fist going up and down his cock, could make out just how easily his hand moved over himself and feel the phantom taste of him in your mouth. Your own fingers picked up the pace on your pulsating clit, mind trying to remember the sensation of his rougher digits caressing you.

"Gonna come, baby?"

Startled, your tightly closed eyes were pried open to glance at the screen, wondering if you hadn't somehow called him in your frenzy. But no. The voice note kept playing, and the pretty groans kept coming.

"You're so fucking close. I know it. You're thinkin' about me touching you. Can't stand that I'm not there to do it."

High-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips, feeling so empty and wishing he could fill you at this exact moment. You were soaked through your panties, heat turned up inside yourself so much that sweat began to build at your temples. You were a mess in less than two minutes, and all it took was a goddamn recording of his voice.

"Frank…"

Moaning his name into the empty room made you feel dirty and horribly desperate, fingers slicked up to the point you had trouble getting a consistent motion. Your chest was tight with shallow breaths, spine tingling and legs cramping from how wound up your muscles were.

"C'mon sweet girl, let go. Soak that pussy f'me," he demanded in that gruff tone he always used when he brought you right to the cliff's edge.

"Frankie, please…"

You'd lost your mind, begging him for something he could neither hear nor grant you. But he knew. He always knew. Between the sounds of his own slick motions and heady groans, a noise you loved more than anything broke through just when you thought you couldn't take any more.

He whined your name on the end of a heart-stopping moan and just like that, you were gone, vision going white as you threw your head back hard against the armrest you forgot was there. You panted wildly as your hand kept moving, not stopping until you heard that beautiful shudder fall from his lips, signaling his own release. Every inch of you was electrified, sitting there as you breathed together, hours apart but still in sync.

You didn't tell him about that moment, because there was no need. When he made it home at the end of those two weeks, he neither greeted you nor removed his shoes, simply picking you up and planting you onto the counter before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Want you to show me," he asked, warm breath hitting the outer shell of your ear. Disoriented, all you could do was make an inquisitive noise. You'd barely had time to take him in before he was on you.

"Huh?"

"I wanna see how you did it. Want to know how you touched yourself f'me last week."

Your heart picked up in double time, knowing he was dead serious and that you'd do anything he asked. This was uncharted territory for both of you, and you were a little shy to try something like this out of nowhere. What would you even do? You weren't even that used to touching yourself anymore, last week having been a rare exception. It was nice and definitely an intense experience, but it still paled in comparison to the average night with him. Or, as it were, the average day— because he apparently expected you to do this right here, right now. On an early Sunday afternoon where you hadn't even bothered changing out of your slip dress.

Sensing your hesitation, he pulled back to look into your eyes as his hands found your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the thin fabric covering them.

"Don't you worry, baby. I'm gonna guide you through it. Watch my pretty girl touch herself like I tell her to. Whaddaya say, sweetheart? You want that?"

Like I tell her to.

Fuck, yes. You wanted that. You wanted it so badly apparently that Frank saw it in your expression, because he smirked as soon as you looked at him all wide-eyed.

"I…"

"Yeah? What is it, baby?"

He must've known, by that point. With how attuned he was to your body and needs as a general rule, it shouldn't have surprised you. Of course he knew you had it bad. He knew exactly what you liked and why you liked it, and he went so far as to break his one rule in order to drive you even crazier than usual. Maybe your brain shortcircuited too severely after that voicemail, because it was only now that you were realizing…

"You sent that on purpose," you said, a pout forming on your lips.

"Sure as shit didn't send it by accident," Frank retorted, an amused snort bubbling out of him.

"I'm being serious! You knew this whole time?"

"Knew what, huh? That my girl likes a little back and forth during sex?" he grinned, delivering a pinch to your hip.

"All sex is a back and forth, Frank," you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he meant but unable to avoid sassing him.

"M'not suggesting anything different," he shrugged, eyes slipping down your body with clear intention.

Right. Back and forth. He talks and you… You struggle not to come from his words alone. A tempting proposal.

"I want to. I'm just not sure what to do," you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as you finally took a good look at him. He looked good, his beard having grown out even more during his time away.

"What'd I say? You ain't gotta worry about that. S'my job. Just gotta listen to what I say," his voice rumbled in your ear as he leaned in again, a brief but meaningful touch of his body to yours making you realize he was half-hard already.

This man was going to be the death of you, but you had no doubt: he would always making good on his promises, especially the ones he whispered in your ear.

.

.

A/N: Just the product of a horny brain. Hope you enjoyed it!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #the punished x reader smut

[dameronology]

couples therapy (frank castle)

summary: you go to couple's therapy with frank castle. it's just as terrible as you can imagine.

warnings: so much language. at least 10 f-bombs.

enjoy xx

Couples therapy felt like a stupid fucking idea, to be honest.

There was only three feet between you and Frank; you wanted to be closer but at the same time, you wanted to drop kick his loud-talking, argumentative, defensive ass to the other side of the city. No, scratch that. The country, or maybe even world. Somewhere far enough so that you didn't have to look at his stupid face but somewhere close enough that you could still reach out for him in the night. Somewhere far enough so that you couldn't hear that gravelly voice that made your skin crawl, but somewhere close enough so that he could still whisper horny sweet nothings in your ear.

And it was thoughts like that that made you realise why you were here.

There had been a few weeks of tension; that had grown into two months of shit bubbling under the surface. You were mad at him. He was mad at you. You couldn't bring it up because he'd accuse you of overreacting and he couldn't bring it up because even before all the PTSD-causing-crap he'd lived through, Frank was shit at coming to terms with how he felt about things. Vocalising his emotions wasn't his strongpoint. Revenge and killing was. So, safe to say that this was his personal form of hell. Anyways. That shit had hit the fan eventually and now it was splattered all over the room and it was covering you both and no matter how many metaphorical showers you took, nothing would fix this except the clean slate that emotional catharsis would bring you.

Maybe you'd break up. Maybe you'd stay together. Maybe it was all up to the gaunt, old man in the chair opposite you who reminded you a little too much of John Kramer and was draining $50 an hour from your bank right now. Did they do Groupons for couples therapy?

"So," he began. His name was Doctor Richards. He was a little too quiet for your liking. "Tell me...why are you here?"

Frank let out a gruff laugh. "Isn't that what you're here to tell us, Doc?"

"No, actually," he shook his head. "You explain your problems to me and I'll give you reasonable solutions to try and fix those problems."

There was a moment of silence, and Doctor Richards glanced at you.

"Is he always this defensive?"

It was your turn to laugh now.

"Uhhh, not always," you replied. "Not with me, at least. More so with other people."

"So he's more open with you?" the doctor raised his eyebrows, but then glanced between you. "Emotional vulnerability is a good sign. A sign of life - of course, unless, this has changed over the course of your relationship."

"It hasn't," Frank firmly said. "I laid myself bare the day we met. That hasn't changed."

"He's right," you nodded. "I just...I think you have a hard time articulating your feelings, Frank. Sometimes when you do open up to me, it turns into an argument."

"That's bullshit," Frank muttered.

You cleared your throat and turned to look back at your relationship saviour. "We're here because we argue too fucking much, doc. If I say nothing, he gets mad. If I respond, I'm overreacting-"

"- because you do overreact!" he interrupted you.

"Maybe because you never let me fucking talking talk!" you snapped.

"Guys!" Richards cut you both off. "This is a safe space and I'm going to give you both a chance to talk. That's how you get to the bottom of things."

You glanced at Frank. "Can I go first?"

"Yes."

Shuffling uncomfortably in your seat, you glanced down at your hands and cleared your throat. There was so much on your mind but a complete disconnect between your brain and your mouth; translating your thoughts into feelings was hard at the best of times, but even harder under pressure. You didn't want to say something to upset Frank, even less to hurt him.

"I..." you trailed off. "I've always been someone who likes to talk about things, you know? I like to communicate, especially with the people I love, so I'm always open when something upsets me or doesn't feel right. Conversation is important to me but I think you're different, Frank. You like to think and not feel and when you refuse to talk to me about shit, it hurts. It's like you can open up to me about all your feelings except the ones about me and in my mind,. those are the most important ones."

Frank didn't respond; he just looked at you.

"For someone that chats so much shit, you sure seem to keep quiet on a lot of things," you continued, voice dropping to a murmur now. "I'm not overreacting when I respond the way I do. It's just fucking frustrating."

He looked away, brown eyes staring blankly at the wall behind Richards for a moment. That was the first time in the better part of three years that you's actually seen Frank quiet.

(Save for when he was sleeping, and the time he almost died in the middle of your living room).

"I like to keep certain things quiet," Frank finally spoke. His eyes flickered from the wall, down to your new therapist. "I work a night job, doc. It gets stressful. I deal with some heavy shit."

"It's an overused saying, but a problem halved is a problem shared," Richards replied. "You have a partner who is willing to listen. One who I assume knows their threshold, and would tell you if sharing it was too much."

"He's right," you said. "When you shut me out and bottle it up, it builds up, and then you get shitty with me and it manifests itself in every part of your life. Of our lives. Because we're intertwined as shit, Frank, and you can't pick and choose what parts you share with me."

Frank sniffed. "Well, hell. Look at us breaking ground."

"A lot of people come into couple therapy assuming it means their relationship is over," Richards said. "That's almost never the case. It shows you're both willing to work on it."

Your eyes fell to the floor for a moment. Frank had been strangely willing to come here; it wasn't something you'd thought about too much before now, but his willingness felt like hope to you. This time a few years ago, he would have walked away at the first sign of trouble. Now he wanted to take your hand and walk towards it.

"I can't tell you about all your problems based entirely on this conversation, but I can...I can share some introspection from a third party perspective," Richards said. "Frank, you have a partner whose willing to listen, but...maybe they go about saying it in the wrong way. Maybe it feels forced, or like they're not letting you do it on their own terms."

"I guess," Frank murmured. "What if I don't want to share? What if...what if I just want to protect them from all this dark shit?"

"You can choose what you share," he replied. "But if you choose not to share, you have to communicate that."

--

The apartment was tense when you and Frank got back. It had been a tense two hours; talks of communication and honesty, of sharing your lives and being partners. It had been okay for the first hour, but as soon as you hit the second you felt like you'd kind of gotten the point. You and Frank weren't the worst couple in the world, and couple therapy was fucking boring. That had been your main take away.

You threw your keys on the side, dumping your jacket as you entered the flat. Everything was as you left it; washing up from breakfast in the sink, pile of boots by the door, a letter pinned on your notice board about an increase in rent. All things that were headaches in themselves, but simply just contributing factors to a bigger, ongoing migraine. Frank was behind you, dragging his feet and huffing.

"Something you want to share, Frankie?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

"That felt like bullshit."

You snorted. "I felt like I was being listened to for the first time in months. Maybe that speaks volumes."

"Oh, come on," he rolled his eyes. "How are we leavin' couples therapy and you're already having a go at me?"

"Sorry," you murmured. "Honestly, Frank, I'm just fucking frustrated. I've said all I need to say but...whether or not you wanna listen and actually work on it is what counts."

"Are you dumb?" Frank asked, but quickly regretted his choice of words. "Shit. Baby, I'm sorry - I didn't mean it like that-"

"- how the fuck did you mean it then, Franklin?"

He paused, holding his hands out for a moment. "I just sat in a cramped room with some Jigsaw lookin' motherfucker for the better part of two hours, listening to you complain - rightfully so, don't get me wrong - and tryna take notes on how I can be a better partner to you. Maybe it's not obvious, and maybe it won't be for hot a fuckin' minute, not until I've got my ducks in a line, or just shot em all, but just...I will try, okay? I need you to be patient with me but..."

Frank took your hand, placing your palm on his chest. He covered it with his own large one, tangling your fingers together and pausing for a moment.

"I need patience...please?"

You nodded, letting him squeeze your hand. "Yeah. Shit, Frankie, I'm sorry. I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too."

"We'll be okay, won't we?"

"Of course we will."

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle imagines #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #punisher x reader #punisher imagine #punisher imagines #punisher x you #marvel imagines #marvel x reader

[amhrosina]

Be My Baby

Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!

warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.

From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.

The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.

“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”

Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.

“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.

“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.

“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.

“Hang on. I brought something for you.”

“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.

He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.

The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.

“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 

He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.

“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”

You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.

“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”

You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.

“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.

“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”

“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 

“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”

“And you stayed.” You finished for him.

“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”

This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.

“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.

“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”

For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.

“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”

He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”

You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.

“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”

Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.

A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.

“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”

The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.

“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”

“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 

He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.

“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”

That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.

The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 

“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”

His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.

“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”

“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”

You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.

“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 

He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 

Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 

You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.

You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”

“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”

“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”

He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 

“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”

Tag List:

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#frank castle #the punisher #jon bernthal #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher smut #the punisher imagine #the punisher x reader #the punisher fluff #frank castle fic #jonny bernthal #nmcu #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #amhrosina

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

A Punisher/Frank Castle x reader was posted!! Check it out!!

#aj posts #marvel #the punisher #punisher #frank castle #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines

[sheepmc]

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette spoiling you whenever you accomplish whatever it is goal you set out for yourself

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette bringing you to his office to spend time together when he's unable to go out

Surprising Sugar Daddy Neuvillette with some lingerie you bought after your shopping spree today

Watching Sugar Daddy Neuvillette's eyes dilute with want as he slowly strides towards you loosing his tie

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette pinning you to the wall kissing his way up and down your neck whispering dirty praises that has you clenching your thighs together

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette watching and hearing how your sopping wet pussy takes his fingers in knuckles deep

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette will sometimes fuck you in the changing rooms of high end store after having enough of you teasing him with every outfit you try on

Sugar Daddy Neuvillette will make you cockwarm him in his office as he does paperwork and if you decide to grind, rock or clench around him he'll retaliate by pinching your clit and with a husky growl of his voice say

"Behave or you won't get to cum until we get home"

#🐏sheepy work🐏 #🐏sheep work🐏 #🐏sheepy writes🐏 #I blame the sisterwives for this #he can fick me and punish me anywhere and anyhow he wants #gods let me cockwarm this preety man #Neuvillette imagines #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin x you #sugar daddy Neuvillette ftw

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Can I get a whiskey with Frank castle and “I don’t deserve you” please?

Multi Talented.

warnings - smut. cursing.

haven't written frank in so long!! thank you for requesting <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Oh fuck, Frank."

You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, eliciting a groan from the man who's broad shoulders are keeping your legs apart.

"Shit, Frank. Just- I just - fuck, give me a minute to just-"

Your back arches off the bed as he sucks particularly hard, teeth grazing over your clit. You're panting, chest heaving, hands scrambling for purchase. You're not sure if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer.

He's doing this thing with his tongue, making it difficult for you to breathe. There are silver stars floating in front of your eyes, blurring your vision, shifting your reality.

The city outside hurries on, sirens and car horns soundtracking the night. The room is dark except for the light of the streetlamps, illuminating the shining purple bruise on Frank's cheekbone.

He pulls away to mutter under his breath, barely audible. You wouldn't hear if you weren't so in tune with everything he says or does.

"That's it, pretty girl."

"Atta girl. You got it."

"Yeah. Good fuckin' girl. So good f'me."

His low, raspy tone is what sends you over the edge, gasping as his fingers curl just right. You see salvation in your release, the universe white hot and blinding.

"Where did you learn to do that?" you ask breathlessly, relaxing back against the sheets.

"Told ya I know a few things," he chuckles, crawling up your body so you're face to face.

You kiss him eagerly, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

"Let me show you how much you deserve me," he whispers against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs to part them for him again.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader fluff #frank castle fluff #jon bernthal #murphy's 3k celebration #the punisher x reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher imagine #the punisher #the punisher smut

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hope you having a good day/night 💘

frank having a wet dream (i’m not a native speaker i’m not sure if it’s called this, i’m sorry) about reader and when it’s just about to endddd….reader wakes him up cos obviously he was grunting, sweating and moving a lot in his sleep so she thought he was having a nightmare and she’s worried about him…(my horny brain just died here so i’m leaving the rest of it to you)

a/n: this maaaaaaaannnn 🫠

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Frank? Baby, wake up,” your sprawled-out fingers gently swept over his broad shoulder, “it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare.”

On a sharp intake of oxygen, Frank stirred from his slumber. Blinking open his dark eyes to see you staring back at him, your cheek smooshed against your pillow, only a second passed before his touch slid up to the sides of your face as he longingly let his forehead melt against your own. 

“Wow,” you uttered softly as he crawled closer, “are you okay?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly before crashing his lips against yours. 

Out of pure surprise, a palm came up to press against his chest as you grasped the first sliver of a break to tilt your head back enough to search his eyes in the low moonlight, “Frank?”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone as his gaze all but ate you up. 

“Frank, you don’t have to act all tough around me, you know that–,” but the rest of your sentence fell from your lips as he rolled on top of you and the palpable tent in his boxers pressed against your thigh, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks, “not a nightmare, got it,” a small chuckle bubbled out of you, “I guess I’m sorry then for waking you up.”

“It’s alright,” he dipped down to press a kiss to your jaw, “dreams are fun and all,” his pecks slowly began to migrate further south, “but I’d much rather have the real deal,” holding onto the covers that draped over you both, he flashed you a small smirk before his head disappeared beneath it.

“Frank…” you let out a laugh as he moved down your body, caressing your curves before his head settled between your soft thighs, “was it about me?” you held the top of the duvet up for you to see him, “did you have a sex dream about me?”

Cocking his head, he said, “why do you sound so surprised?” and pressed a hot kiss to the very top of your inner thigh, “they’re always about you.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #jon bernthal smut #marvel smut #marvel x reader smut #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader