#jon bernthal fanfiction

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.�� His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #marvel #nmcu #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #fc

[chellestrash]

Let me handle it.

Frank Castle x F!Reader

summary: After a long day at work you FINALLY get home and Frank decides to offer some help with redirecting your frustrations. warnings: strong language, explicit language, explicit content, pet names, praises, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex. word count: 3.8k an: Hey heeey, me again...trying to get out of my writers block LIKE ALWAYS! I stg there isnt a fic on this blog that isn't my attempt to try and get back into writing but anyway. This was just something short and sweet I wanted to get out to hopefully get the gears moving again. Let me know what you think! I know the ending feels a bit rushed but I hope its alright. Reblogs and feedback appreciated as always! Hope you'll enjoy! OH and of course, thank you @chelseasdagger for helping with this one and im tagging @lucy-sky cause she requested that!

You push the front door open and sigh loudly at the sight of your apartment. The 8 hours of work felt particularly long today, and you swear at some points you weren't really sure if 5pm was actually going to come after all. The tiredness fills every inch of your body to the point that some parts actually, physically hurt as you get your coat and boots off before making your way over to the living room.

“There she is.”

Frank sits on the big couch in front of the TV, his ‘work’ clothes still on, so you assume it hasn’t been long since he got back as well. He looks better than you feel, though, one leg on the floor, the other propped up on the small coffee table. The TV remote is still in his hands, but you notice how he turns the screen off the second he notes your presence. 

Looking up at the sound of his voice, you do your best to smile in response, but the content expression fails to reach your eyes, and you turn your gaze back to the wooden floor before answering.

You mumble a quiet greeting under your nose and walk past the couch, past him and into the small now, thank god, dark bedroom. 

Frank frowns, turning his head as he watches you cross the living room and disappear behind the bedroom door. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something is clearly off. It’s not like you two cling to each other the second you step through the front door, but he knows something about the way you act today just doesn't feel how it should feel. He grunts, pushing himself up from his spot on the couch, and makes his way over to the bedroom.

Back in the small room, you attempt to get rid of your work clothes as fast as possible, longing for the simple yet unmatched comfort of one of Frank’s basic t shirts. You pick the one laying by the end of the bed, the one you knew he currently slept in, and softly pull the work shirt up and off over your head before ditching your bra too and tossing it off to the side. You can't be bothered to clean it up, not right now, probably not tonight. With the t shirt now on, you sit at the foot of the bed. 

A loud sigh exits your body as you attempt to take your pants off, but for some reason, the task proves harder than it would be on any other day. You fight with the fabric for another moment, frantically waving your legs back and forth with no avail before hiding your face in your hands, ready to dig the nails into your flesh with all the pent-up frustration of the week. 

“You need help with that?”

You drag your fingers down your face and turn to face him.

Frank stands in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he leans onto the door frame, and you hope he wasn't here long enough to witness your meltdown. 

“I don’t… know.”

You admit, the overwhelming frustration wins over the slight embarrassment of the previous moment. 

Frank nods before pushing himself away from the door frame. He walks over to the bed without a word, and before you can try to explain yourself, you watch him get down on one knee in front of you with a grunt.

“Alright.”

He mumbles softly, fully kneeling in front of you now. Holding your calf softly in one hand, he pulls the fabric of your pants down your leg before switching to the other one. You watch silently as he gets rid of the clothes for you before tossing them off to the side, to be dealt with at some point during the week. 

“That better?”

He asks softly, and you nod, your body relaxing at the sensation of his fingers brushing up and down the back of your calves softly. 

“Work?”

He asks carefully, feeling the need to figure out what was wrong, but not wanting you to have to think about it again.

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly and nod once more, confirming his previous suspicion. 

“Want me to go out there…make sure this shit is sorted?”

The question makes you chuckle, and you breathe out a quiet laugh as your eyes find his again. He never looked away from you. 

“You gonna go beat the shit out of my boss?”

You finally speak up, pushing your fingers through Frank’s short hair, feeling it prickle your skin slightly as you do so. The familiar feeling somehow grounds you in the moment as you feel more present than before. 

Frank scoffs at your words, looking off to the side for a second before turning back to face you. That god-damn cocky smile makes you smile back at him almost instantly. 

“That what you want?”

He moves his hands up, fingers now brushing over your thighs as he pushes forward slightly, you spread your legs open some more to fit his wide frame between them. 

“I mean if you’re offering.”

You joke, and he breathes out through his nose quickly, shaking his head with a semi playful smile.

“Yeah, okay, you got it, kid.”

He mumbles before leaning down to press a kiss onto your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let out a quiet hum, the wet warmth of his lips present on your skin for a long couple of seconds before he finally pulls away. 

“How ‘bout I make you feel good? Hmm? That sounds okay?”

His voice rumbles through your body as he moves closer to you and the bed, gently lifting your one leg up and over his shoulder before he does the same with the other one.

“Fuck.”

You start, already feeling how your body begins to react to him, the warmth between your legs slowly growing more prominent.

“You don't understand how much I’d love that right now, I just…”

He stops, stops immediately and waits to hear you out.

“I’m too fucking tired to move, Frankie.”

“Who says you gotta do anythin’?”

The way he answers makes it feel like the most obvious thing in the universe, like how he doesn't understand how you could've thought of it in any other way than him giving you all he can offer.

“Shit, you think I’m gonna make you ride it or something?”

He looks up at you from where he's kneeling by the bed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, as if he genuinely can not believe you’d think that.

“Think I’m gonna make you get on your knees? Suck me off and tell you you’re doing a good job, hmm? That what you think?”

You laugh, shaking your head, knowing he would never make a situation like this about himself. Yeah, you two enjoyed it when things got rough during sex, and you enjoyed ordering Frank around just as much as he did with you, but you both also understood the timing and feeling of this situation. You knew not everything always worked the same, and so did Frank. “If you did, you’d get a fucking knee to your stomach, you got that?”

You state and Frank scoffs once again.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh before helping you slide your legs off his shoulder.

“Alright.”

He starts after pushing himself off the floor.

“Lay down, kid, show me how you want it.”

He gestures to the bed, and you give him a big, bright smile for the first time since getting home from work. Turning your back to him, you climb up to the top of the bed before dropping onto one of the big pillows. With a satisfied groan, you bury your face into the soft fabric and close your eyes for a second before pulling one of your legs up, bending it at the knee. The movement causes the fabric of Frank’s shirt to slowly slide down the slope of your back, exposing both your panties and your ass to the man standing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah? Like that?"

He asks in that deep, groggy voice, and you nod, rubbing your cheek against the pillow without bothering to open your eyes as you do so.

“Alright.”

He mumbles, and you feel the mattress dip under the weight of his body after a moment. You listen to your body, to its needs and wants, and push your ass out slightly towards him with a quiet, innocent moan.

Frank scoffs loudly, shaking his head as he climbs over you, his arms propped up on either side of your body as he holds himself up above you. 

“Thought you were too tired to pull that shit.”

He points out in a teasing manner, and you crack one eye open slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling up into a playful smile.

“Oh no, I’m never too tired to be a pain in the ass to you.”

You mumble, somewhat to him, somewhat into the fabric of the pillow, before he breathes out a small laugh and leans down to press a kiss right on your shoulder. You watch as the muscles in his arm tense when he's pushing himself up again.

“Yeah, okay, you gonna let me do this or do you want to keep being an ass?”

You grin at the word and glance back at him, but he cuts you off before you manage to say anything.

“Don’t, do not fucking answer that.”

You laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly turns into a deep grunt when Frank pushes his hands against your ass. You feel his fingers digging into your body when he squeezes you tight, and you lift your hips up slightly, pushing into his touch. 

“Yeaaah, s’what I thought, you like that?”

You hum softly and hope it’s enough of an answer as the firm grip on your body disappears for a second, just to come back a moment later. 

“I got you now, kid, s okay."

He grumbles, pushing your legs apart some so he can sit in between them, right behind your ass. Pushing the hem of your shirt up, he gently brushes his fingers over your back. His hands make their way to the sides of your body, fingertips brushing up and down your ribs for a moment, and you let out a loud sigh.

“That’s it, good girl, again.”

You repeat the deep breath in and a calm exhale, allowing him to lead you through this, this one time. Dragging his hands lower and lower down your body, Frank works his fingers over your skin. The firm but gentle sensation of his touch spreads from your back and sides to your ass, then lower onto the back of your thighs and then calves when he reaches his arm behind his back. 

“Mmmm, Frankie”

Your hips push up once again when his thumbs dig into the spot right under your ass, and he breathes out a laugh. 

“Yeah, okay.”

You don’t have to explain it to him, he knows how to read your body. Slowly dragging his thumb over the fabric of your panties, he slips his four other fingers between your legs, cupping your pussy over your underwear. 

You whine quietly, your eyes still closed as he begins to draw small circles against your most sensitive spot, the tension in your body releasing into his touch. 

Humming quietly, you snuggle into the pillow, letting yourself fully relax now as the stress of the day leaves with your satisfied hum.

“Yeah? This what you like? Hmm?”

You push yourself back into his hand, leaning harder into his touch as an answer, and Frank tightens his hold onto you in response. The intensity of the sensation rises as he pushes his fingers harder against you. 

The tired, but honest smile on your face indicates how good of a job he’s doing. Well, that and the way the fabric of your underwear dampens more as the minutes pass by.

“Frank-“

You mumble out quietly, reaching your hand behind your back and hooking your fingers under the hem of your panties.

His touch disappears immediately as he pulls his hands away from your body, letting you dictate exactly what happens. 

He watches you fiddle with the fabric for a moment before you quickly tug it down your thighs and assists once it gets stuck behind your ass.

“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, show me what you want.”

You push your ass up slightly with an inpatient sigh once he slides the fabric down past your ankles and tosses it off to the side.

Once again, his big, warm hands find their way to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he takes a moment to massage your muscles in your back, and then you feel him push the fabric up higher to tend to your shoulders as well. Feeling the bulge between his legs press into your ass the second he leans down to trace the back of your neck with his lips, you hum satisfied, eyes still closed, lips curled up into a smile. 

“Really, Frankie? That much?”

You tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head with a sly smirk still on. 

“Yeaaah yeah, shut up.”

He starts before leaning back down, his lips right by your ear this time. His hand pushes down between your legs, touching you directly now, and you know he can feel your body’s response to the whole thing.

“Really, kid? This much?” 

You huff out a laugh as a response and reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his wrist and keep his hand in place. 

“Not like it's my fault.”

You mumble quietly and hear Frank’s chuckle from behind you.

“Okay, calm down, just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want to feel good.”

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“Want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Another nod before you feel Frank’s hand push under your body and cup your chest firmly. His thumb brushes over your nipple as his lips brush down your spine, over your back. Feeling your body slow down, you allow yourself to relax properly as the warm, familiar feeling grows stronger between your legs. 

He pushes his hand right there again, touching you right where you long for it the most.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum quietly, as his three fingers push between your folds before he starts tracing circles around your clit. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling, your body finally relaxing after the exhausting day. Maybe in some other circumstances your mind would slip. If you were alone, if you tried to distract yourself on your own, your mind would wander, but not now. Not with Frank right there in the bed with you. He made it…difficult to focus on anything else, knew how to keep your mind occupied, how to prevent your thoughts from wandering where you didn't want them to go. 

His touch strengthens, and you feel your back arching slightly with a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

“Ah-fuck.”

You grunt the moment his fingers slip inside you. 

“Shh shh shh-”

Frank mumbles quietly, pushing them further in with ease thanks to your body’s intense reaction to his generous attempts to help.

“That okay?”

His low, groggy mumbling continues while he pushes his thumb against you, working on your clit as you feel yourself clenching around his thick fingers. Frank grunts loudly, watching your involuntary response to his question.

“Yeaah, s’what I thought.”

“Mmmmm-you’re pushing it.”

You whisper and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Shit, am I- hmm?”

He lowers the tone of his voice to match yours, leaning back down with his lips right by your ear yet again.

“Just tryna make you feel good, baby.”

He reassures you, watching your lips part as you feel the center of his palm push flat against your center, the wet sounds of your body filling the room slowly as he begins to slip his fingers in and out of your body once, twice, and again, again and again.

You hum loudly this time, biting into your lower lip before you angle your lower back up slightly in an attempt to chase the sensation every time he slips his fingers out almost completely. 

“Frank-”

You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb harder against your clit. 

“Mmm, Frank-”

You repeat yourself with a loud moan before your muscles tense up, and you use the built-up force to push your ass back into him when you feel him slip his three fingers out of your pussy again.

“Ah- Fuck!”

He groans at the unexpected feeling, panting loudly when your ass pushes against the bulge in his pants, and you feel his tight grip on your thighs once you push into him again.

“Shit- okay, okay-”

He does his best to focus once again, and you breathe out a laugh, entertained by the slight shift in the dynamic.

“You okay there, Castle?”

You purr, glancing back to watch the way his eyes focus on your ass, feeling his hips buck up into you slightly. 

“Shit-”

Letting go of your thigh, he reaches up, quickly grabbing one of the pillows lying by your head before lifting your hips up a couple inches above the mattress and sliding it right under your body to help with the angle.

“Good?”

He asks, glancing up at you, the big, brown eyes fixed on yours as he awaits your answer for a moment before you nod quickly. 

“Couldn't have done it better myself.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he drags his hand down your back, stopping right above your ass.

“Yeah no shit-”

You roll your eyes at his words and rest your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes one more time. The sound of the metal buckle of his belt travels through your entire body, and you feel a slight tingling sensation between your legs. Pushing them apart softly, you earn yourself another

“Oh, fuck-”

From Frank, as he now gets to properly see the fruit of his labor. You lay in front of him, naked from the waist down, your legs spread open, your pussy wet from how he touched you before. 

“God damn it, kid-.”

He whispers quietly under his breath. 

“You know how perfect you look? Hmm?”

He asks, working his hand under the waistband of his boxers to pull himself out. 

“I ever tell you that?”

“Once or twice.”

You tease, answering the question without opening your eyes, arching your back slightly to make sure he gets a good view. 

“Ffff-”

You glance back this time, the wet sounds convincing you the view would be worth it, and it is. You watch for a moment as he works his hand over the length of his cock, his lips parted as he pants loudly with every other stroke, his fingers wrapped tightly around his length.

Gradually slowing down the movement, Frank holds onto the base of his cock, lining himself up with your exposed center. You hum softly, and your hips rise off of the mattress the moment you feel the head of his cock between your legs.

“Mhmm, just like that.”

You whisper to encourage him, with a slight note of impatience in the tone of your voice. 

“Yeah? So..s that what you want me to do?”

“Frank.”

You warn him, knowing exactly where this is going.

“What if I just-”

He continues.

“Frank, don't you f-”

He cuts you off, pushing his cock in between your folds and your whole body jerks forward at the sudden, unexpected sensation accompanied by a loud moan that slips past your lips.

“Fr- fuck!”

You swear, gripping the bed sheets before pushing your ass back against his cock, feeling it rub over your center, between your folds and nudging at your sensitive clit. 

Frank laughs loudly, louder than he should in your opinion, considering this was his–and his only–fault. 

“Shiiit kid, didn't mean to get you this bad.”

He attempts to calm your body, his big hand resting on your lower back as he continues to slide his cock in between your folds, teasing your entrance and clit with every single one of your now sped up breaths. 

“Frank, this- isn't helping.”

You whine out, listening to your body, desperate to feel him inside now.

“Give- shit, give me a second here, kid, this-”

He pants louder now, his other hand on your ass, spreading you open for a better view. 

“I swear to god if you come before I get to feel you, I’m sleeping alone.”

He scoffs loudly, hanging his head low as he stops touching himself. 

“That a threat?”

He questions your intentions with that sly smirk on his face, and you prop your chest up slightly.

“Wanna find out?”

You glance back, eyebrow raised.

“Nah, won't risk it.”

He states quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard between your legs. 

“You scared of me, Castle?”

You mumble the question out as you lay back down on the big pillow, feeling the head of his cock right at your entrance now. 

“Yeah, actually, how did you know?”

“Luck guess.”

“Yeah?”

He continues the conversation, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You let your lips part, fall open as you feel him deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the way it stretches you open, a familiar feeling you got used to since being with Frank. 

“That good? Hmm?”

He asks quietly, leaning slowly over your body as he thrusts into you.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum out a confirmation as the movements continue, you feel your body rocking back and forth with his body, with the bed. 

“Good, wouldn't wanna be on your bad side.”

The thrusts grow stronger as he reaches up to hold onto the headboard, grunting loudly as you clench around him. 

With his cock buried deep inside you, you manage another response.

“Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The trusting continues for a while after, as he tries to do his best to keep it together long enough for you to feel satisfied. His other hand wraps around your throat at some point, and he lifts your head up slightly. Your breathing speeds up, and you pant loudly through your parted lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the climax.

"Attagirl, you feel it?"

He asked, no cockiness in his voice this time. It's an honest question, he sounded almost concerned.

"Mhm."

Your quiet hum has to work as an answer for now as you grip the bed sheets tighter, feeling his cock nude the underside of your stomach from within you.

"God damn it, kid-"

He mumbles into your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin when he feels your walls clenching around him harder now.

"Frank-"

"Shh shh shh, I got it."

He reassures you, resting your head back onto the mattress before reaching down between your legs.

"You just relax, kid, let me do this for you."

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #daredevil

[darlingshane]

Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #darlingwrites

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

#new writing record WOOO! i just couldn't shut the hell up :) #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #chelsea writes

[strawhbrrries]

Invisible String.

pairing: older brother's best friend!frank castle x reader

summary: all along there was some invisible string tying you to frank castle.

warnings: none, just lots of sweetness!!!

word count: 1267 words

author’s note: this version of frank is so ken from barbie where it's like "ken's day was good as long as barbie looked at him" and i love it, listen to invisible string by taylor swift to get the full experience.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank’s eyes scanned your face, watching the way your nose scrunched when you laughed so hard it was silent and water was streaming down your face and the campfire in front of you warmed your face. He’d spent every single day since the two of you had met admiring you, watching your heart get broken from every guy you brought home, being the shoulder you could count on when all of your friends inevitability flaked out.  He could count all the times he tried to express his feelings on one hand, backing out at the last moment each and every time.

“What are you staring at? Weirdo.” You teased, scrunching your nose in the very way he found irresistible, making a face at him and turning back to the rest of your friend group. 

You loved Frank, more than any friend should love their best friend. You’d lost count of how many nights you’d spent crying to your mom over the phone, wondering why he just didn’t like you back and asking what you did to deserve this torture from the universe.

“Nothing.” He smiled back, catching the eye of your friend across the fire, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. He never tried to hide his affection for you, never tried to make it a secret to anyone but you, he was fully aware that everyone around the two of you was most likely aware of the crush he had on you.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank was your, slightly, older brother’s best friend. He’d been around for as long as you could remember, in almost every photograph there was of you or your brother since your mom started printing photos out. But he never had that older brother feel that a lot of your brother’s friends had, it wasn’t that he was unreliable or careless. He was the opposite. He cared more than any of your brother’s friends normally did. Sure, they’d come to your rescue if a boy hurt you or if you needed a ride somewhere or if you just needed a pick me up.

Frank was different. He cared. If the boys were going out to dinner he almost always picked up something for you on the way back, the only times he didn’t was in respect for the girl he was seeing at the time. He’d slip a twenty in the pocket of the jacket you always wore if he knew you needed some extra money, or if he knew you needed cheering up. Even if he didn’t have a job he always did it, and he never regretted it. To him, what he thought was, unrequited love wasn’t an issue. He’d cross every ocean and move every mountain and act like it was the easiest thing to do, all just to get a hint of a smile aimed towards him.

Frank was only two years older than you, well technically two years and one day, and he’d never let you forget it. He’d tell you to respect your elders and you’d shoot back that he was definitely an elder and that you could see the gray hairs coming in. The day you were born your mom told his that you two were destined for each other, she swore she could tell just by the way the two year old held your fraile, hours old body. His mom would tell you on every birthday you were just one more year closer to becoming a Castle girl, telling you how you’d make the prettiest one too. You always rolled your eyes and thanked her for whatever she had gotten you that year.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

“Your mom keeps lecturing me on how to treat women, she acts like I’m whoring myself out like your brother is.” He rolled his eyes, washing the dishes in the sink. None of which were his, considering he was in your house at midnight doing the chores you’d been putting off for awhile.

“She just cares, Frankie.” You mumbled back, legs swinging as they hung off the counter next to the sink, watching him scrub at the residue left on a pan you should’ve definitely cleaned the same day you used it. 

You’d graduated college a few months ago, gotten the job of your dreams and yet felt so unfulfilled. You knew why. He was standing in your kitchen complaining about your mom, dish towel swung over his shoulder and shaggy hair pulled back by a headband you demanded he put on before he got stuff in his hair. Ever since you’d moved to this apartment he’d been over pretty much everyday, it felt odd without his presence in the house, it felt lonely without him. 

“I tell her every time, I only want one woman.” He responded, catching your eye as he took the towel off his shoulder to dry the dish he just washed.

“So tell the girl, there’s no use telling me about it if you haven’t told her.” Your heart felt heavy, no matter how many times he’d tried to hint at you that he was in love with you it just never clicked, it might as well had come out of your ass and slid across the floor with a giant sign proclaiming your love for him.

“It’s you.”

Isn’t it just so pretty to think…

“Mom it’s just an anniversary, there really isn’t a need to bring the whole family here. It’s just dinner.” You explained, not knowing she knew more than you.

The ring was in his pocket, lighting it on fire, burning a hole right through the fabric. Frank’s mind couldn’t comprehend that this was happening, it was really happening, after years of pining after you he was going to propose. 

All along there was some…

The day had finally come, you’d worked your ass off to get everything perfect and exactly the way you wanted it to be. Teenage you couldn’t believe you were standing here, actually about to become a Castle girl. You weren’t sure how both moms knew it was destined to be but you were glad they did, there wasn’t anyone else in the entire world you’d rather be doing this with. 

“I can still remember the first time your mom told me I was destined to be a Castle girl, I had rolled my eyes and scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Why on earth would I want to marry my brother’s best friend? That seemed like torture. As the years went by it became something I couldn’t help but dream about, wondering how our relationship would come to be and if you had the intricate proposal I wanted down to the finest details. Every time you brought a girlfriend around, I hated you. Not really, but as much as a teenager full of angst and the world's largest crush on her brother’s best friend could muster. Then you matured, stopped bringing girls around and paid more attention to me. But you never made a move, I thought I was destined to be the little sister forever. But then, that one night in my kitchen you were complaining about how my mom kept lecturing you about how to treat women and you confessed your feelings. Stopped washing my dishes and gave me a kiss, it was surreal. Comparable to the ending of a coming-of-age movie. You’ve been around my whole life, Frankie, and all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.”

#maddies fics #frank castle #jon bernthal #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle headcanons #frank castle x female reader #taylor swift #jon bernthal x you #jon bernthal fluff #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal fanfiction #the punisher fic #the punisher fanfiction

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Frank Castle X Reader: Spaghetti and meatballs

This post contains explicit content (minors dni)

Warnings: Smut, creampie, oral(male receiving), nipple play, rough sex, explicit depictions of sexual activities, unprotected sex, penetration (p in v), use of birth control, dirty talk, cursing, dry humping, size kink(kind of), bit of begging, pet names, fluff, sad feelings, ptsd.

Summary: Your curiosity about your new neighbor lead to unexpected consequences.

This man deserves the world

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe he missed not hiding who he was. Maybe the lies were making him forget the truth of his identity. Or maybe he was just a lonely man looking for some comfort. Comfort you were more than happy to give him.

The apartment was shitty, the building was falling apart and you could never have a moment of peace and quiet since the thin walls allowed everything to pass through them. Still this was home, mold stains and all. 

Frank had become used to the musty atmosphere he lived in. He'd spend most of his nights at the construction site, hacking away at the walls until his fingers bleed and the voices of his loved ones died down a bit. But they never went away. Not fully. He was grateful for the outside noise, it seemed to dampen the weight of the memories but it couldn’t erase them. He’d been living here for a while but  had never gone out of his way to introduce himself to anyone. He wasn’t looking for friends. He wasn’t looking for anything really. But you had other plans.

You’d grown curious about your mysterious neighbor. You rarely saw him in the months he lived at the building but you could hear him through the walls. You’d hear him in the middle of the night gasping for air as he awoke from another nightmare. Could hear the sound of his boots clanging against the floor as he left to god knows where in the middle of the night. Listened to the small pained grunts he’d let out as he washed up after a day of work. You knew Frank's routine like the back of your hand, still you’d never met him before. It felt a tad invasive listening to him through the walls but it wasn’t your fault they were so thin they could barely keep out the noises on the other side. You don’t know what triggered you to walk over to Frank's apartment that fateful day but it was safe to say that nothing would be the same after your decision.

Frank didn’t have visitors. Ever. So when he heard a knock on the door on a random afternoon it surprised him. He’d gone into protection mode, the years of being in the army having forced him to believe all unplanned visitors were unwanted. Frank stood to his full height as he opened the door fully expecting to be greeted by some old enemy. Instead what he got was you. Your hands shook lightly as you held onto the tupperware container you’d decided to bring over. It seemed like a nice enough thought. Bringing some food over to your neighbor sounded like a hell of a good excuse to you but it didn’t stop you from being nervous. Your anxiety tripled the moment Frank opened the door, your eyes falling on him for the first time. He was huge. Much taller than you had anticipated and much more muscular than you’d imagined. You couldn’t help but think of how handsome he was. Frank glanced down at you, his eyes falling to the container in your grasp before moving up to your eyes.

“You need something?”

Gosh his voice sounded like heaven.

“Oh uh hi, I live next door.”

You gestured to your apartment door watching as Franks glanced at where you were pointing at.

“Okay.”

“Uh well i know we’ve never met before but uhm i ended up cooking too much food and i��m not one to waste a meal so i was wondering if…uhm… maybe you’d like some?”

You were stuttering like a little kid which caused Frank's eyes to soften a smidge. He glanced down at what you were holding his eyes trying to figure out what you were offering him. 

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs.”

Frank wasn’t picky but he was careful. He was used to having enemies which made him always stay on edge but the way you were shaking was enough to tell him you meant no harm. Frank reached for the food in your hands, taking the container from you. You played with the hem of your shirt, trying your best to keep yourself occupied.

“Thanks.”

“That’s what neighbors are for.”

You gave him a smile and Frank almost stopped breathing at the sight. He’d been too busy admiring your innocent features to notice the hand you’d stuck out for him to shake. Once he realized he hesitated for a moment before gripping your palm in his. Your hand was so warm against his. You told him your name and before he could stop himself Franks told you his. He told you his real name, not the shitty fake one he’d had to come up with. He expected your face to drop into a look of fear but you continued smiling up at him, seeming completely unaware of who he was.

“Well I'll get out of your hair. It was nice meeting you, Frank.”

And with that you walked back to your apartment, leaving Frank to himself. That day was the first time in a long time that Frank had indulged in homestyle cooking and the moment he put the first bite into his mouth he knew he was screwed. The PB&J’s weren’t going to cut it anymore. Not now that he’d tasted your cooking.

Since that day Frank and you kept crossing paths whether it be in the hallway or in the elevator or even at the supermarket. Basically wherever you went you’d risk running into Frank. You tried to brush it off as a coincidence but something told you it was more than that. And your gut was absolutely right. Frank had figured out your schedule and had made it his mission to run into you as much as he could. He wanted to talk to you but he didn't know how to go about it. 

Until one fateful day. 

He’d been laying in bed trying to read one of his books when his nose caught waft of a delicious smell. Frank got up from his bed making his way towards the scent. To his surprise the smell was coming from your apartment. He knew it was odd but he’d been itching to have another decent meal for ages. One of your meals to be more precise. And now that he could smell you cooking up heaven in your kitchen he couldn't resist. He knocked at your door lightly, his feet thumping against the ground anxiously. What the hell was he doing?

“One second!”

He heard you race over to the door turning the key before opening it. You were wearing an apron and your hair was pinned up so it wasn’t in your way. He didn’t know how to explain it but the homey nature coming from you made him feel calm.

“Oh hi Frank.”

“Hey, sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s okay, what can I do for you?”

“It smells like heaven in there.”

You blushed at the praise, Frank's words making you flustered.

“Thank you. It’s a family recipe.”

You glance back at the kitchen then at the small two person table in your apartment. It had been a while since you’d had company and you were sure Frank hadn’t just strolled over to tell you your food smelled nice. You’d reached out to him weeks ago and now he was reaching back to you.

“Actually… I could use some help. If you’re not busy that is.”

“Oh I wouldn't want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing. I’d like the company.”

You stepped to the side, holding the door open for Frank.

“Come on in.”

To your surprise Frank hesitated at the door for only a moment before entering your home. 

Frank helped you cook and the two of you enjoyed a pleasant lunch together. Before you knew it you were pulling out a bottle of whiskey and offering Frank a glass. The two of you moved over to the couch, the alcohol making your tongues lose. You spent the night chatting about things like you were old friends. Frank missed this. He missed talking to people like a human being. Missed being treated like a person rather than a machine. You were nice to him in ways he’d forgotten people were capable of being. It made him forget the idea of being alone. Made him crave something other than sleepless nights alone in a rickety bed. Made him wish he had someone to hold him again. Before he could hold back things started spilling out. He told you about his family, about the things he’d done, the people he’d killed and the truth of who he was. He’d expected you to run, grab a weapon, scream for help but you didn’t do any of those things. Instead you made your way over to him, placing a hand on his face and caressing his cheek. He looked up at you, the sadness in your eyes making his heart warm up. You felt for him. And in that moment it was like a damn inside him broke. The tears started pouring out of his eyes. All the pain and hurt he’d been hiding coming out all at once. You pulled him into your arms, your hands weaving into his hair as you shushed him. Frank latched onto your waist burying his face into your chest as he sobbed.

“That’s it, let it out dear. It’s okay.”

The two of you stayed linked in each other's embrace for a while before Frank sobered up a bit. He thanked you for the food and for listening to him and you told him it was your pleasure. He could tell you were telling the truth. Just as Frank was about to close his door you yelled out to him.

“Don’t be a stranger!”

And he knew there was no going back.

In the next few weeks you and Frank grew closer. Every morning he’d walk you to work before making his way to the construction site and everynight when he’d arrive there would be a container with food at his door. On Saturdays Frank would go over to your apartment for lunch and on Sundays you’d take him to your favorite restaurants. It was easy being around you. You didn’t push too much about his past and it was nice to not have to hide who he was. You liked having someone around and Frank made you feel safe. Just knowing he was on the other side of the wall in case you ever needed him made it easier to sleep at night. It got to a point that neither of you could be seen without the other and even though you didn’t know exactly what you two were you knew it wasn’t just friendly behavior.

One night you’d woken up to the sound of Frank banging on the walls as he screamed out in anger. You got out of bed, grabbed Frank's spare key and made your way over to his apartment. You knocked lightly on the door pressing your ear to it so you could hear inside.

“Frank, are you alright?”

No response. You knew about his night terrors, he’d told you about his bad dreams and the ptsd he had to deal with. The thought of him being alone when it happened tugged at your heart. You knocked again. Still no answer.

“I’m coming in, Frank!”

You unlocked the door, pushing it open slowly before entering the dark room. Your eyes adjusted to the lack of light from inside allowing you to see the rough outline of Frank's frame on his bed. You made your way to him, your hands moving to touch his shoulders. He flinched at your touch turning to look at you, a wild look in his eyes. His gaze softened once he realized it was you.

“You okay Frank?”

“Just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you. You can go back to bed i’ll be alright.”

He wouldn't be tough. Frank knew he wouldn’t sleep a wink after that dream. He'd just lay in bed looking up at the ceiling and trying to get those foul images off of his mind. You could tell he was lying. Of course you could. You’d spent enough time observing him to know the signs.

“Can’t bullshit me, Castle. Not anymore.”

Frank glanced at you as you gave him a small smile causing him to crack a slight smirk of his own.

“Can’t keep anything from you hum darling?”

“Lay down.”

Frank did as you said his body crashing onto the mattress. His eyes followed you as you moved to lock his door before coming back to his bed. You pulled the sheets over Frank's body, tugging them up so that you could move in next to him. Frank's brows furrowed as you laid down beside him and turned to face the opposite direction.

“Nothing bad is going to happen Frank. Not now that I'm here.”

Frank's shoulders sagged at your words. God you were an angel. What the hell had he done to deserve something so pure like you? You turned around to face him, your eyes finding him in the dark.

“This okay?”

You waited for him to kick you out but he didn’t.  Instead he pulled your body flush against his, his arms wrapping around your waist as you molded into his frame. You let out a content hum, snuggling into Frank's mattress.

“Night Frank.”

“Good night.”

Frank slept like a baby that night, the warmth of your body luring him into a deep sleep. It was an innocent gesture. The only idea in your mind had been about comforting a friend. Sure you liked Frank and if he offered something more you wouldn’t deny him but that hadn’t been your intention. Not initially anyway. 

It’s funny how fast things can change. 

You woke up the next morning to the sun shining through the thin curtains and making the room warm. You moved to stretch your body, pausing once you remembered where you were. Frank let out a small hum behind you causing you to recall what you’d decided to do last night. You’d been so focused on willing yourself to remember that this was real that you hadn’t noticed Frank's hand. There was no way it’d happened on purpose. Frank's hand was underneath your shirt. And that is not all. His palm was dangerously close to your breast. If he moved an inch he’d be cupping you in his hand. You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh. No way this was real. You had to still be asleep. Just as you were about to pinch yourself Frank stirred, his nose bumping into your neck as he moved closer to you. It was then that you noticed something was prodding at your ass. Frank Castle was hard. Hard and completely unaware of what that knowledge was doing to you. You tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip and spare yourself a weird interaction but the moment you moved you realized your mistake. Your hips had pressed against Franks hard on causing him to let out a groan, his eyes opening sleepily. Your eyes widened as they made contact with Franks who trailed his gaze down your body, eyes opening wide as he noticed what was happening. Before you could open your mouth Frank had sprang out of bed, his hands moving up in surrender.

“Ah shit. I’m so sorry I didn't mean to do that.”

You watched Frank stumble over his words as he tried to tell you that he’d never disrespect you like that and that he completely understood if you never wanted to see him again but that he was truly sorry. It was sweet of him to care so much but you’d be lying if you said you were paying attention to him rumblings. Instead your eyes were glued to his crotch. Frank noticed the blank stare on your face, his eyes trailing down to find what you were looking at.

“Oh fuck.”

Frank moved his hands to cover his hard on a blush staining his cheeks as your eyes found their way to his face.

“It’s a natural thing. It’s not your fault. Not that you couldn’t cause it i mean…shit i mean i’m not saying you’re not attractive enough-”

“Frank…”

“Dear god, I'm only making this worse. I just meant it happened other times too. But yeah you being so close to me didn’t help-

“Frank!”

Castle's eyes widened as you raised your voice forcing him to shut up. Now that you’d gotten his attention you moved closer to him, kneeling on the bed before reaching for his hands. You gazed up at him with doe eyes, your small hands wrapping around his large ones.

“I wanna see.”

Frank's breath hitched at your words a groan leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“Darling you don’t-

“I want to see you. I wanna see what I did to you.”

“Ah shit.”

Frank threw his head back as you moved his hands out of the way. You cupped his member through his sweatpants making him moan. You inched yourself closer to the edge of the bed allowing your feet to hit the floor before glancing up at Frank once more.

“You gonna let me take care of you? Or am I gonna have to beg?”

“Fuck sweetheart.”

You took Frank's flushed response as an answer, your hands grabbing the waist of his pants and tugging them down. To your surprise Frank wasn’t wearing any boxers which allowed his dick to spring free. You rubbed your thighs together at the sight, eagerly getting onto your knees in front of Frank. He towered over you and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be railed by him. You’d find out soon enough. For now you were focused on bringing Frank some relief. Heaven knows he deserves it. You palm at Frank's dick for a bit before moving your head closer to his dick, allowing him to shove himself into your mouth. You struggle to breath, the pure size of him overwhelming. 

“Ahh, would you look at that? Taking me like a good fucking girl….”

You hummed at Frank's praise making him moan at the vibrations.

“You like that huh? Like listening to me praise you?”

You nod your head slowly keeping Frank's dick nudged deep in your mouth as you do.

“Well go on then. Show me what a good girl you are and suck me off.”

You do as you're told, moving your head up and down Franks shaft at a torturous speed. He liked it though. You could tell by the way the muscles on his stomach clenched at your movements.

“Attagirl.”

Frank's hand weaves into your hair, pushing his dick even deeper which causes you to gag lightly. Your hands make their way to Franks thighs, braceing yourself as he fucked your throat. Frank couldn’t help but watch his dick disappear into your eager mouth. He wondered,not for the first time, if this was real. If this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

Frank got lost in his pleasure, fucking into you faster and faster as he sensed his orgasm coming. He was close you could tell by how he twitched in your mouth but then, just as you were about to wrap your hands around his balls, Frank pulled out. You gasped for air you chest rising and falling rapidly as you glanced up at Frank

“What’s wrong?”

“Take your shirt off.”

You gave Frank a questioning look before doing as he asked. The second he caught a glimpse of your breasts Frank was a goner. You watched him wrap his hand around his cock before moving at a rapid speed. You didn’t understand what he wanted but then it hit you. Frank Castle wanted to cum on your tits. Wanted to mark your body as his. And you’d be lying if the thought didn’t make you fucking wet. You leaned on your palms allowing your breasts to perk up a bit more.

“Come on, Castle mark me with your cum. Let everyone know I'm yours.”

That was the last straw. Your words combined with the image of you on your knees tits perked up just for him made Frank's orgasm rip out of him.

“Ah fuckkk..”

You closed your eyes feeling Frank's seed spill against your chest and run down your body, soaking into your already damp underwear. You relished the sound of Franks moaning the thought that you were the one who caused them, filling you with pride. Your eyes snapped open when you felt a pair of hands latch onto your body. You glanced at Frank's eyes for a moment before pulling him into a steamy kiss. Frank's hands wandered around your body pulling you onto his thigh as he caressed your breasts, smearing his cum on you as he went.

“Such a good fucking girl.”

“Ah Frank!”

You gasped as Frank's lips latched onto your nipple, sucking on it harshly as you wrapped your fingers into his hair. You humped Frank's bare thighs, your need overwhelming you.

“Franky…”

“Yeah baby?”

“Need you.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Fill me up.”

“Ah shit. Dirty little thing aren’t you?”

“Only for you Franky.”

“Oh is that so?”

Franks hands grabbed at your ass squeezing your cheeks roughly which caused you to buck against him.

“Franky pleaseeee”

“Patience. I need you to cum first. Think you can do that?”

“Uhhum but I need your help.”

“I’m right here baby. Take what you need.”

You understood what Frank was saying. You moved to straddle his hips pressing your clothed cunt against his muscular thighs. Frank guided your movements by holding onto your hips. You moaned as you found a good rhythm, your hips moving on their own. In any other circumstances you would have felt ridiculous about getting off on someone without them even touching you but the look of pure awe Frank was giving you made you realize you didn’t give a shit. You kept bucking against Frank until your legs couldn’t take it anymore.

“Frank…can’t anymore-uhu- so close.”

“Want me to help baby?”

“Please.”

God he loved the sound of your voice like this, all high and whiney for him. He could live off the sight of you all flustered and desperate, rocking against his leg like a bitch in heat. If he wanted to, he could be mean. He could let you get to your orgasm by yourself but the idea of watching you fall apart was much more appealing. So instead of torturing you Frank reached into your panties, his fingers latching onto your clit and rubbing the bundle of nerves. Two seconds later Frank's name ripped out of your chest, your cum staining his thighs as you reached your orgasm. Frank collapsed backwards pulling you on top of him as he went. The two of you stayed on the ground for a moment trying to catch your breaths. Franks massaged your scalp feeling your chest move up and down as your breathing became steady. 

“You okay darling?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Frank laughed at your words which made you smile. You looked up at Frank, your hand pulling at his beard and forcing him to look into your eyes. 

“One thing would make this perfect though.”

“Oh yeah what's that?”

“You railing the shit out of me.”

You watched as Frank's eyes darkened with lust, a smirk gracing his features. You propped yourself up laying your hands flat on Frank's chest.

“So what is it gonna be, Castle? You gonna fuck me? Or am I gonna have to take matters into my own hands?”

You punctuate your question by grabbing Frank's once again hard cock in your hand making him gasp at the feeling. In a matter of seconds Frank managed to get up, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he lifted off the ground. You let out a squeal when Frank threw you onto the bed before climbing on top of your body, his hands reaching down to rip your underwear off. You watched as Frank lined himself up to your cunt. He looked up at you with a smile on his face as he watched you gulp in anticipation.

“Careful what you wish for.”

Frank thrusted himself into you without warning, causing a groan to leave your lips as he filled you up.

“Ohhhh Frank….”

“Fuck darling-ughu- so fucking tight!”

You wrapped your legs around Frank's hips for support. Frank placed a hand against the headboard as he continued to thrust into you at a rapid speed. The bed frame creaked and groaned beneath the two of you. You were a mess of moans and mumbled words. Frank wasn't much better mumbling praises about how wet you were and how good of a girl you were being. Frank had never heard you curse before today but it didn’t surprise him to find that you had a dirty mouth on you. Especially when he started toying with your clit. His dick pulsated against your walls as they clamped down on him. One expert move of his fingers had you seeing stars, your mouth slackening as you moaned out his name.

“That it baby… that's it”

“Oh Frank, don't stop!”

He had no plan on stopping. In fact he’d keep you here all day if you’d let him. He’d fuck you in every position he could. He’d dine of your body for the rest of his days. He’d suffocate inside your thighs if that's what you’d want. Anything to keep you here with him. Anything to hear those pretty noises you made. He was close. You noticed the way his thrusts were getting more and more of tempo as his legs started to burn from the rapid movements he’d been making. Frank tried to pull out of you, fully prepared to cum on your stomach but you stopped him by pushing your heels into his ass. He looked into your eyes, his hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were almost rolling back into his head but he managed to speak.

“Gotta let me pull out baby.”

“I want you to fill me up Franky. Remember?”

“Yeah but we didn’t use a condom.”

“Don’t need to. I’m on the pill. It’s okay, baby fill me up. Mark me with your cum.”

That right there did it for him. Before he could even respond, Frank's orgasm arrived, his hips moving frantically as he filled you up to the brim with his seed. Once he was done Frank collapsed beside you, careful not to squish you with his body. You threw your arm over Frank's chest snuggling into him as he came down from his high. You stretched your neck up leaving a kiss on Frank's cheek before laying your head back down.

“Thank you.”

“For the head?”

Frank let out a laugh. Always a jokester you were.

“For that too. But I meant for reaching out. For tolerating my shit. And for not running away.”

“I’d never run from you Frank.”

Frank placed a kiss on your forehead, his hands making soothing circles against your back.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah doll?”

“Can we make this a part of our daily routine?”

Frank's hand found his way to your chin raising your face so you were looking at him.

“I think we can fit it in the schedule.”

You smiled against Frank's lips as he kissed you tenderly. 

Thank heavens for that extra serving of spaghetti and meatballs.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #smut #mcu smut #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #punisher smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #frank castle fanfiction #smut fanfiction #smut tag #marvel smut #nmcu

[lucy-sky]

Friends and Benefits (Julian Kaye x f!Reader)

"You’ve never had that many friends, especially straight male ones. But somehow with Julian it was so easy. In a way, everyone in the escort business are actors and actresses. You play roles, depending on your client needs and requests, and at some point you get so used to it that you keep on playing even after the client leaves. With Julian, for the first time in ages you suddenly felt like yourself. He didn’t try to hit on you, and it was fine - you weren’t sure you needed a relationship at the time. You just genuinely liked each other, had a lot in common, and enjoyed each other’s company. There was a pinch of flirting between the two of you, but nothing more than that, and the both of you were okay with it."

This was supposed to an innocent night at your place, you and Julian just drinking, talking and chilling. A suddenly revealed fact about you leads to an offer that's gonna make the night way spicier.

Prompt: “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” with Julian Kaye?

Warnings: the reader is in the escort buisiness as well as Julian; obviously smut

Words: 2 829; AO3 link

A/N: This is written for @bernthirst-events Naughty or Nice Prompt Fest 2023, and it's probably not great because I got super rusty. Last time i wrote something more than 1K words was on January 14th. So I apologize in advance :')

“Wait, wait, wait. No way. You serious?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, taking a deep drag of the cigarette Julian just handed you.

“Not even once?”

“Nope. Okay, well… There were a couple of times I was close, you know, like… Really fucking close. But that’s it, believe it or not.”

When a couple of colleagues who also happen to be good friends meet up, what do they usually talk about? Right. Of course they talk about work. You and Julian are no exception, even considering your job. 

You met Julian Kaye about a year ago. At first you noticed each other at some fancy event you both attended with clients. You didn’t even need to ask him about his job, as well as he didn’t need to ask you either. People like you just know. For a while you kept seeing him here and there, he recognized you as well, but you didn’t really have a chance to talk. And then, on your night-off, you went out with the girls and saw him at the bar. Since he didn’t seem to be at work, you decided to finally come say hi. You ended up talking until closing hour.

You’ve never had that many friends, especially straight male ones. But somehow with Julian it was so easy. In a way, everyone in the escort business are actors and actresses. You play roles, depending on your client needs and requests, and at some point you get so used to it that you keep on playing even after the client leaves. With Julian, for the first time in ages you suddenly felt like yourself. He didn’t try to hit on you, and it was fine - you weren’t sure you needed a relationship at the time. You just genuinely liked each other, had a lot in common, and enjoyed each other’s company. There was a pinch of flirting between the two of you, but nothing more than that, and the both of you were okay with it.

Since then, no matter how busy you are, you and Julian try to meet up at least once a month. Sometimes you go to the bar or a party, but tonight you’re not really in the mood for a crowd, so you invited him to your apartment. Sitting on rocking chairs on your balcony (you bought them in a thrift store, and Julian likes to make fun of you having these rocking chairs like an old lady, but you know he loves them as much as you do), you drink wine, smoke, watch the city lights and talk.

As always, it started with funny stories about work. Julian told you about that time he almost got bitten by his client’s angry chihuahua, and you told him how a couple of weeks ago you had to hide from an unexpectedly arrived wife in a closet like in a bad anecdote. And as always, the more you drink, the more intimate your conversation gets. At some point you start to share your clients’ and your turn ons and offs, and you complain that most men get really turned on when the woman orgasms, and at the same time they’re totally unable to actually make her come.

“It’s ugh… They don’t even try! I mean… I can’t name any guy who made me come, to be completely honest.”

You said it just casually, but this sudden confession surprised Julian more than you expected.

“No way.”

“Oh yes way,” you laugh. “But like… You know I didn’t have any serious relationships. When I had my first boyfriend we were too young, and then… Kinda complicated considering the business, am I right? So it’s been a while since I had sex without being paid. And when you do that for work… Tell me how many of your clients actually cared for your pleasure, huh?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Julian nods with a slightly bitter chuckle.

“I don’t blame them though. They pay for our service to please themselves. To be selfish. Desired. To not be judged. They don’t have to impress us, it’s just an easy way to feel the greatest and the hottest lover ever. So yeah, it’s not my fault I don’t come with them,” you take one more drag of your cigarette. “Although… You know, actually that’s something about me as well…”

“Nah, come on, there’s nothing wrong about you, sweetheart, it’s-”

“I didn’t say there’s something wrong about me, J,” you cut him off. “The thing is, when I work I always have to be in control. It’s like uh… It’s like a show, you know. Like I’m on stage, so I just can’t relax and lose it, you know what I mean?”

“I do, yeah.”

“So like… It is what it is,” you shrug. “Not a big deal. There’s plenty of ways I can please myself when I need to. And as for work… At least I know my show’s a damn good one,” you smirk.

“No doubts about that,” he returns a smile.

The conversation fades for a few moments, while Julian refills the glasses. You already feel tipsy, not too much, just relaxed and pleasantly warm despite the night air getting a bit chilly.

“You know,” Julian suddenly says, “Some of my clients tell me they keep seeing me because they’re tired of pretending. Husbands can’t make them feel good, and don’t really care ‘bout that, but I do.”

“Yeah, yeah. The sex is not exciting any more, so the husband calls me, and the wife calls you, and everyone is happy,” you chuckle. “It’s way easier than doing something about the relationship after all. Funny that they mostly think they’re doing it secretly, but everyone knows anyways.”

“One of them told me she already thought she couldn’t enjoy sex any more,” he continues, faint smirk on his lips.

“Oh, so now you’re showing off, Mister Sexy!” you laugh, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

“I mean… It is what it is,” he shrugs with that adorable boyish laugh of his.

“I know you’re good, J,” you say it more seriously than expected.

“Yeah, uh… You know what, y/n… I just thought of something…”

“Yes?” you glance at him curiously.

“Pretty sure I could make you come for real.”

“What?” you almost choke on your wine, “Is that like… An offer?”

“Maybe.”

You notice that slight change in his voice and the way he looks at you. Somehow it gives you a strange tingle. You feel your cheeks warm up.

“You serious? And uh… Why’d you wanna do this? ‘Cause I already told you it’s not a big deal, so if you feel pity for me or something-”

“No, that’s not it, it-it’s just,” he stumbles a little, “When you said it’s been a while since you had sex without being paid… It’s been a while for me as well, and… You know what, forget it,” Julian shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair with an awkward smile. “Guess I’m just drunk already.”

“Actually I don’t mind.”

You surprise yourself when these words tumble from your lips. Guess you’re drunk too, but there’s definitely a sort of chemistry between the two of you that could work. You’ve always found Julian attractive, and the way he looks at you makes you think it’s mutual. Maybe you’ll regret this in the morning, but right now the idea of having casual sex with Julian Kaye doesn’t seem all that bad.

“Really?” Julian stares at you, his dark eyes scanning your expression. “You wanna?..”

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t say anything, just gets up off his chair, approaches and kneels next to you. He looks into your eyes for a few moments before bringing his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Then he reaches your hand and gets up, urging you to get on your feet as well. His fingers gently caress your cheek and the side of your neck before he leans in. He doesn’t capture your lips right away, it’s just a light touch of his nose against yours, a chaste press of lips, a soft lick of his tongue asking for invitation. You part your lips and the kiss is deep and unhurried. It tastes like wine and cigarettes but it’s so blissfully sweet your head is spinning. When did you have a kiss like that last time? Or maybe you’ve never had… Well, he’s a professional after all. It makes you think of something.

“Julian,” you whisper when your lips part, his hand on the back of your neck, foreheads pressed together as you catch a breath.

“Yeah?”

“I have one condition, okay? Let’s try to just be ourselves tonight. Otherwise… What’s the point of all that, am I right?”

“Okay,” his voice is a little husky, and you find it pretty hot.

“Okay,” you reach to get your glass from the table, bring it to your lips and drink down the remains of the wine in one big sip.

“Let’s get inside.”

“You know… You’re actually the first person I invited to this bed,” you murmur in between the kisses. Your clothes are already discarded, except for the underwear, and Julian’s deft fingers are already reaching to unclasp your bra.

“Really, am I?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s quite an honor,” he kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. “You smell nice.”

“That body lotion’s my favorite.”

“Like almond cookies,” he bites on your skin gently, careful not to leave the marks. You appreciate that. Sighing with pleasure you let your fingers run through his thick hair, as Julian slowly keeps kissing his way down your body. You must be crazy or too drunk, and maybe you’re on your way to ruin your friendship, but it feels too good to stop. The way he pinches your nipple between his fingers makes you shiver. You shift uncomfortably as the heat rises up in your core. A part of you wants to tell him you need more. Another part wants it to last longer. He continues his descent. Leaves a trail of kisses between your beasts and further down. He licks the skin of your lower belly, right above the waistband of your panties, fingers brushing the inside of your thighs. You still have your panties on, but you feel like you know where it’s going.

“Uhh… J?”

“Yeah?” he glances at you from between your thighs.

“Look… I’m pretty sure you can make me come with your tongue in no time. That’s too easy, man. I wanna come on your cock.”

“Yeah, I’ll make you come on my cock, darlin’, I promise you that,” he chuckles. “Just need to warm you up, you mind that?”

“Alright, do your magic.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he smiles, pulling down your underwear. You’re now completely naked, exposed for him, and maybe he’s not the love of your life and not even your boyfriend, but it feels way more intimate than with any client you’ve ever had. Even though there were times a client wanted to go down on you.

“Relax, okay, sweetheart? Will you do that for me?”

That’s it, that’s the difference. A client would never talk to you like that. He would never be that tender. Julian is incredibly good at that. Not that you had any doubts though. He kisses and licks and hums against you as if he’s tasting something absolutely delicious. Your soft moans become louder, fingers tug on his hair as you writhe. And then he adds his fingers to the mix, and your toes curl. 

“J, I… I’m gonna…”

“Shhh, I know, I know, baby,” he whispers soothingly, withdrawing his fingers, dripping with your arousal. “C’mere.”

He moves back up your body and kisses your mouth deeply, to which you eagerly respond.

“You’re enjoying yourself, do you? Making a mess out of me?” you pant as you pull back for air.

“I am, actually,” he admits, brushing your hair away from your heated face. “‘Cause you’re a beautiful mess, you should’ve seen yourself.”

He kisses you again, and you can’t wait any longer. Your hand skims down his belly and under the waistband of his boxers. Oh, you love the sound he makes when you start to slowly pump his length.

“You think we’re warm enough already?” you tease.

“Condoms?”

“Upper drawer.”

It’s impressive how fast Julian manages to get rid of his underpants, find the condom, tear its wrapper with his teeth and put it on with just a bit of assistance from your side. He’s pretty thick, and you can feel it as he slowly pushes inside you. It feels good, especially after all the foreplay.

“You good?” Julian asks as he bottoms out.

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m great,” he smiles and leans in to kiss you again before gently rocking his hips. He’s still unhurried, as if he wants you to get used to it. You suddenly think how nice it would’ve been if your very first sex was like that, not the mess you had with your first partner. Julian Kaye can really make a woman feel special. Although you know he wasn’t always such a talented lover. Everyone has their awkward moments. Everyone has moments they wish they could forget, especially when it comes to your job. It is what it is. There’s no point in regretting it. 

Julian doesn’t let you think about it for too long, he’s busy kissing your neck, breath hot against your skin as he gradually picks up speed. It still doesn’t feel like enough for you to come, but after a few thrusts he urges you to bend your knees a bit more and lift up your legs, and the sudden change of angle almost makes your eyes roll as he hits exactly the right spot.

“That good?” he whispers on your ear when you dig your nails in his shoulders, every thrust causing you to arch your back.

“Mmm… Keep going,” you manage to mumble. Your mind is clouded, walls already fluttering around his length, and it’s getting more and more intense with each snap of his hips. Julian is getting close as well, you can tell from the way he breathes, the noises he makes, his moves getting slightly more erratic. He nips on the crease of your neck and you don’t even care about any possible marks any longer. He’s a hot mess; he’s panting as he presses his forehead against yours and his hand finds its way between your bodies

“Look at me, sweetheart, c’mon. I know you’re close.”

He’s right - you feel like you’re getting close to something completely mind-shattering. With his fingers on your clit and his cock buried so deep within you, hitting what feels like all the sweet spots at once you’re balancing right on the edge.

“Oh fuck, J!..” you moan, throwing your head back.

“Keep your eyes on me, look at me, baby,” he urges you, gripping the back of your neck. “That’s it, just let yourself go, come for me. I know you can.”

You obey, meeting that intense gaze of his dark brown eyes, and finally, as if in response, your body finally gives in. The climax hits you with such a force you think you’re about to pass out. You gush beneath him, gasping and moaning, your walls pulsing and spasming around his length. Through the haze of your bliss you hear Julian’s low grunt as he climaxes too, shuddering against your body. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and for a while you just stay like that, holding each other, sweaty and breathless, getting down from your high and still shivering from the aftershocks.

“Hey,” you smile and let your shaky fingers run through his damp hair as he lifts his head to look you in the eye. “That was… Wow.”

“Yeah,” he hums and pecks on your lips.

“I have to return the favor next time.”

“What?” he laughs in surprise. “Nah, sweetheart. You don’t owe me nothing, no favors done.”

“Yeah, but… Come on, J. There must be something you want but don’t get much. Like… How often do you get a blowjob? Or a really nice massage? I’m quite good at that, actually.”

“Okay. You got me at massage.”

“You won’t regret it,” you smirk and lean in to kiss his lips and the bridge of his nose. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, and that soft look in his eyes makes your heart shrink with sudden tenderness towards him. It scares you a little, because it’s so new. You’re not quite sure what to do about it.

“Julian?”

“Mm?”

“We… didn’t just fuck up our friendship, did we?..”

“Course not,” he reassures, pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Guess we’re more like friends with benefits now though.”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you sigh with relief. “You wanna stay the night?”

“I’d like that.”

Thanks for reading!

No pressure tags: @darlingshane @anna-hawk @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @slavic-empress

#Bernthirst Prompt Fest #jon bernthal fanfiction #american gigolo tv fanfiction #julian kaye x reader #lucy tries to write

[stargirlfics]

Jupiter Haze

Jon Bernthal x Black Female Reader

Summary: Seeing Jon smoke a joint one day sparks a desire that he’s more than happy to help you indulge in

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, drug mentions - weed, smut: high sex, dirty talk, intense and passionate fucking, multiple orgasms, shotgunning during oral (male receiving), pussy eating, creampie mentions, mention of tears during sex with reassuring check in

Word Count: 4.6k

Note: This gif has been living rent free since I saw it and I just had to write smutty stoned!jon, he’s so fine it’s ridiculous! Enjoy!

It just wasn’t fair how charming and handsome he could be, it really wasn’t. Especially not when he snuck a glance or two your way while you and the dogs cuddled up together, cause even sitting down, Jon Bernthal had you weak in the knees.

You had accompanied him to film one of the episodes of his podcast, partly because you loved watching him work and mostly because you loved hearing him talk more than anything. 

His voice was soothing to listen to and you enjoyed seeing him so invested in the conversation, he was just the best to be around and you felt extra lucky to be his girl, plus it wasn’t like he’d ever make you feel anything less.

You were sipping on the coffee he picked up for you earlier that morning, smiling to yourself, half in your thoughts, half listening to Jon interview his guest when you noticed him pull out a blunt, the lighter he’d been holding flicked expertly to light it. 

Heat prickled at your skin as you focused on the action, taking in the sight of his hands, how skillfully they handled the joint, the smooth inhale, how his head tipped back just slightly, and then the inevitable exhale, something so unbelievably attractive about the way he blew the smoke out from the sides of his mouth. 

The conversation continued, but you were still stuck on what you’d seen. You’d smoked before on occasion and had your fair share of edibles even before you’d met so seeing Jon smoke wasn’t shocking, it was just how hot he was when he did it that had you a little out of sorts, coupled with the fact that in almost the one year you’d been together you’d never gotten high with him. 

And so there, in that moment, the thought of changing that had been put in your mind. 

You wondered if he noticed, how you squirmed and shifted in your seat the rest of the time he talked, the unconscious lick of your lips when you took in the hazy look in his eyes, the way his body relaxed in his seat with another hit of the joint, yeah, you kinda hoped he did. 

-

Afterwards, you sat in his truck, the air conditioning refreshing against the heat outside, your eyes soft as you watched Jon through the window, letting the dogs run around for a bit before the drive home, your favorite place to be. 

“Thanks for comin with me, sweetheart,” his familiar gentle rumble filled your ears as he climbed in the truck finally, his hand outstretched to give your knee a thoughtful squeeze. 

“Of course! Like I said this morning, I like listening to your conversations. And the view isn’t so bad either.” you smiled to yourself, not looking at him deliberately. 

That earned you a laugh, his hand moving from your knee to your arm, tugging you towards him so he could plant a warm kiss to your lips, nothing about it helping the fire in your belly tamp down, not when you could taste the coffee on his lips and definitely not with how he brushed his nose against yours when you parted. 

Because truthfully, you had been polite and sweet and innocent the entire morning but underneath that was all the unsaid desire you had for him, especially the image of him and that blunt between his lips, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

In fact, you thought about it the entire drive, your eyes shifting from Jon’s hand’s on the wheel and the scenery passing you by. 

It almost made you feel a little embarrassed because if he truly knew how often you thought of him, how often you stole glances at him and daydreamed and swooned over him…the thought made your stomach flip but how could anyone blame you? Everything about him was attractive, even the most ordinary and simple things he said or did, it only made both your feelings for him and your desire for him that much stronger. 

“Baby? You’ve been real quiet, you doin okay?” his voice whisked you out of your thoughts, a slight edge of concern to his voice that made your cheeks warm. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m more than okay, just thinking bout you honestly” the reassurance and a smile from you convinced him enough. 

“Ah well now you gotta tell me the specifics, baby! You know how it goes, what’s that pretty head of yours thinking about me?” he insisted when you protested a bit, one of his hands leaving the wheel to rest on the back of your seat. 

The sigh you huff out is playful but really it’s one of resignation to the fact that now would be a perfect time to bring up what had been so on your mind because you’re sure he’d say yes to what you wanted to suggest and you should take the opportunity and not give him a half-truth answer just because you felt silly. 

“Alright, alright. I was just thinking about you smoking that blunt earlier…you looked real good doing it and I wondered why we’ve never smoked together before. I…think we should one day, like being high with you would be fun, you know.” 

Your words trail off, stopping yourself from rambling too much, your eyes watching his features. 

“Oh, hell yeah! It’s kinda crazy we haven’t yet cause I would kill to see what you’re like stoned. Just say the word whenever, baby, I’m down.” There was that handsome grin you loved so much, gracing his face and making your heart beat even louder. 

Home finally came into view, the truck coming to a stop and the summer heat wrapping around you once more when Jon came around to open the door for you and you’re even more wrapped up in your daydreams about him than before, content and feeling spoiled by him in the best of ways. 

And in his eyes, it was true, he’d give you the world and all you had to do was ask. 

—

Saturday night, your head in his lap, the sun just beginning to set, pale blue swirled into pinky orange and then the heated orange flame from the lighter in Jon’s hand became the only thing in your view. 

The blunt was between your lips already, the one he had expertly rolled for you both to share, your eyes blinking up at him sweetly as he lit the end, gaze roaming over you till it landed on your face and the deep inhale you take before it’s passed to him.

Jon couldn’t think of anything sexier as he watched you take in the acrid smoke, holding it for just a moment to let it fill your lungs before exhaling, smoky tendrils filling the air above you both. 

“Took that like a fuckin champ, look at you! Why haven’t we done this sooner?” His voice swam in your head, a giggle breaching past your lips as you felt your body begin to relax and buzz, the familiar slow heaviness seeping into your eyelids and then to the rest of your body. 

You watched as he took a puff then, his head tilted back to rest on the back of the couch before he exhaled too, his eyes hooded and downcast as they landed on your face again. 

The world felt so calm now, so still and silent save for you and him and the dogs rustling about somewhere in the room, a giddy kind of serenity bathing the space as the sun shone in through the windows. Golden hour. 

“Goddamn am I lucky…” Jon bounced his thigh slightly, making your vision bob with the movement as you opened your eyes at his words. 

“Mm, I was just thinking the same thing, babe.” you turned on your side, your cheek flat against the front his thigh now, eyes hazy as you watch his own. Crazy how you could see so much in them, things he didn’t even have to say, just something for you to feel as you looked at him. 

Jon passed you the joint again, shaking his head internally at how you didn’t quite catch what he meant, that you didn’t see what he saw in this moment, how the golden sun that filtered through the window had landed on your outstretched figure, your brown skin illuminated with a glow that nearly made him speechless. 

He wanted to tell you about it as you passed the joint back to him, his fingers brushing with yours, your warm touch like a lifeline for him, but he held back, knowing how he could get when he was uninhibited this way, the weed making his lips loose. He’d keep the moment private for now, all his feelings for you wrapped in it till the time was right to tell you how much he fucking adored you. 

And though unsaid, you could feel the affection, the softness of him flowing to you. You liked stoned Jon very much, content with how his hands held and caressed your skin gently, the overall sweetness he had with you dialed up even more now, the two of you unable to contain laughs and smiles as you found things to talk about, tangents to go on. 

He had put on something to watch earlier but you were a bit too enthralled in each other to really care to watch anymore and though you’d moved your head from his lap to sit upright next to him, your bodies were closer still.

A few more puffs of the joint were shared equally between you both till Jon placed the bud on the ashtray sat on the coffee table in front of him, his hands animated as he explained in depth something you had asked his opinion on. 

There was your love of hearing his voice again, filling up your body as you lay your cheek against the couch cushion, your knees tucked to your chest, your eyes and ears drinking him in, his elongated cadence, how you could practically see his brain thinking faster than his mouth could keep up with because the subject of conversation was something he was passionate about. 

Handsome and soft, tender with his gaze that was only for you, that was Jon, that was your man, the realization making you reach for his hand which he took without hesitation as he spoke, his fingers twining with yours. 

Then naturally there was a lull in the conversation, the physical tension between you both coming to the forefront now that a comfortable silence had taken hold, both of you simply enjoying your highs, the unspoken want that you’d been drifting around louder now, all your touches and embraces this evening held back to be appropriate, teasing, suggestive even but still polite. Until now. 

Floaty and emboldened, the inhaled smoke that permeated your body guided you to bring his hand that was still in yours up to your mouth, pressing a sweet kiss to his knuckles. 

“Why’d you have to make me want you so bad, Jonny?” your voice was hushed, almost a whine, your cheeks heating when his eyes flicked to yours. 

Yeah you’d been intimate, you weren’t a stranger to the way Jon could manage his way around your body, your wants, plenty a time had been spent clawing at his sheets while he fucked you deeply, your moans and near screams only muffled by his mouth or his hand against your lips. But this was different, the desire even more intense with the high, sprawling, almost too concentrated and you wanted to let it drag you under. 

The need to be under his thumb, to feel him, in and around you was white hot and you hoped he’d want it too, hoped he wouldn’t object to being intimate in this state. 

“Cause I’ve been wantin you too, sweetheart, I always want you. Especially now, you have no idea,” he gave your hand a squeeze, your heartbeat picking up in pace at his admission. 

There was your green light. 

It didn’t take long for you to end up in his lap, your knees straddling either side of him while your mouths met, heat licking at your core as you both gave in to the pull, letting your bodies do what they wanted. 

Jon cursed against your mouth when he felt you grind down against him, your body trying to find purchase against him, aching for friction while his hands grabbed at your ass through your leggings, squeezing your waist, fingertips raking at the sides of your thighs as you whined into his mouth when you felt him, the hardening curve of him against your center. 

“Fuck, baby! Doesn’t take much for you to get all slutty on me when you’re high, huh? That why you wanted to smoke with me, just wanted me to take care of your little horny self?” the deep and gravelly tone of his voice filled your ears, an edge of playfulness to it that made you whimper into his shoulder. 

“S’your fault…” you throw back, a lazy smirk on your face when pulled you back so he could look at your face. 

“Mhm, I know. But it’s yours too cause I’ve been thinking about how good it would feel to be buried inside you since we started smoking. See what you do to me, darlin?” he took your hand then, moving it between your thighs so you could cup him. 

It made you smile when he bucked up into your touch, how his eyes closed for a moment when your palm flattened to rub up and down the length. He must ache just as much as you now. 

“Please, Jonny…I want you, want you to fuck me, fill me up, please,” you give him puppy eyes and then leaned in to drag heated kisses up the column of his neck. 

“I will, baby, just stand up for me, gotta get you outta these clothes or I’m gonna end up ripping them off you.” 

You listened to him then as reluctant as you were to leave the warmth and safety of his lap, because you knew he was good for it, reminiscing about the favorite pair of panties he’d ripped to shreds one night when you were both too horny and pressed for time to fully undress. 

Jon could hardly hold back, his hands itching to make you fall apart as he helped you stand up, keeping you steady as you giggled and turned so your ass was facing him, his ears happy with the sound of your soft squeal as he pulled down your leggings, his dick twitching at the sight of your figure. 

It didn’t take long for the both of you to strip bare but it felt slowed, the high making all your movements feel slowed, careful, fully present and aware of the moment. 

And normally Jon would take his time with you, work you open, make you cum without even fucking you first but he thought it would be cruel to make you wait especially when you were whimpering for him like that. 

Weed always made you that much more sensitive, your pussy soaked already as you slowly found your way in his lap again, your eyes on his, tethered as he lined himself up and you began to sink down on him, his own hips strained as he pushed up against you, meeting only slight resistance as your walls gave way and pulled him in. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, his fingertips dragging soothing trails down your back as you both groaned at the stretch because Jon was thick all the way around, thick and heavy as he pulsed and filled your soaked hole, your eyes never leaving his. 

Nothing else existed outside this, outside you and him, eyes hooded, tinged a slight red, heat wrapped around your bodies as he bottomed out, arms keeping you pressed against his chest, keeping you deep. 

You might as well have been on Jupiter, a planet for the two of you alone. 

“Attagirl, baby. You’re always so good to me, aren’t you. That pussy always takes me so well. Oh I know, I know, sweetheart.” Jon cooed, your foreheads pressed together as he moved his hips up to nudge himself even deeper, his last words in response to you crying out. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, your pussy clenching around him as you remembered how strong he was, the strength in his arms felt under your fingers as he began to bounce you up and down, nice and slow, letting you both savor the feeling. 

Every drag of his hips had you choking out gasps and whines, your body feeling weightless as you got comfortable, melting into his hold, letting him move you, your sweet sounds filling the air as his mouth explored your neck and down to your chest, eventually biting and sucking at your nipples while your hands tugged at his hair, content to be getting fucked like this. 

“You feel so good, baby, please…fuck, oh please!” you cried out as he angled his thrusts, knocking against a spot that made you see stars. 

“Yeah, is that the spot? That where you need me to be? Tell me, pretty girl.”

He was such an asshole for that because he knew damn well it was but hearing your breathy whines and pleas was what he wanted more than anything. As if you wouldn’t give him anything he wanted when he made you feel like this. 

“Mhm, right there, baby, please just fu-” the words turned into a strangled moan as he rocked your body against him, hitting the spot over and over while your hand drifted down to rub at your clit, the added sensation making you shake. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being anymore, it all felt too good, too all consuming to care and Jon only encouraged your moans, filling with pride at how he was splitting you open, giving you praise after praise for how beautifully you took it. 

“Shit! Jonny, I’m so close, please, I’m so close,” you dug your nails into his biceps and buried your face in his neck as he picked up his pace just slightly, your ass colliding with his hips, his hand still keeping you deep on him, the sound of skin meeting adding another layer of pleasure to it all.  

He wasn’t fucking you very rough at all but it was still intense and his cock reached deep with every thrust, both of you tensing and clinging to one another as he pounded your pussy sweetly, just perfectly right to make you wanna explode. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this big dick aren’t you, jesus I can feel you squeezin me, sweetheart. Let it go, lemme have it, know you can do it for me,” his half growl rang in your ears as you focused on doing just that. 

You surrendered to the rising tide swimming in your core, finding your release with a shrill yelp, letting him talk you through, letting him keep fucking you through it too, drawing out your release till you were catching your breath and sliding off of him, almost too overstimulated but too full of desire to wanna stop here. 

He raised an eyebrow at you when you sank down to your knees, placing yourself between his thighs, “I wanna clean up my mess before I get back on,” the sinfully innocent bat of your eyelashes made him twitch once more as he watched you lay your cheek against his knee for a moment. 

You were gonna kill him, he was so sure of it. 

You were just something else and the kicker was that you were his, all his and he never wanted to cherish and spoil and fuck and make happy someone so much before. 

“Mm, that’s my girl. Go ahead, better not miss any spots either.” Jon quipped and you responded with a few nails dug into the meat of his thigh before you lean in to drag your tongue up his shaft, covered in your slick and still throbbing hard. 

While you busied yourself, he leaned forward carefully to grab the rest of the blunt still on the ashtray, the flicks of a lighter heard as he lit it again, taking a big puff and leaning back against the couch again, his eyes burning into you as you wrapped your lips around him, sucking and licking as you took him deeper into your mouth, moaning at how you had to stretch your mouth to fit around his girth. 

The taste of yourself on his shaft made your body buzz again, something so filthy and hot about it, about all of this, especially with how you had an up close and personal view of him smoking again, the very image that started this to begin with.

What a bastard…and you couldn’t love him any less. 

As you bobbed your head, slicking him up with your spit, your wet slurps and shared moans filling the air, he grabbed your chin affectionately, pulling you off him for a second, taking another drag of the blunt and holding it in his mouth before leaning down so your face was almost touching his. 

Your breath hitched as you moved closer, slotting your mouth against his, parting your lips in anticipation of what he was gonna do, your brain going fuzzy as you held eye contact with him while he exhaled the smoke into your waiting mouth, shotgunning you, shrouding your realities in another layer of high. 

Thighs clenched together as you took it in and waited till the smoke cleared a little before you whimpered out of need and got your mouth back on his dick, letting him control the movement of your head this time, giving him your trust and your air supply as he fucked your throat tenderly. 

Every thrust of his hips, every curse and groan from him was one of passion and pure adoration for you and the filthy side of yourself he felt honored to get to see. 

Golden hour had turned to a magenta sunset as you released him from your mouth with a pop when he groaned out that he wanted to fuck you some more, Jon going back to admiring you as you stood up, his hand in yours, never letting there be a chance for you to stumble, his face pressing against your tummy from his seated position. 

He just wanted to breathe you in, to map your body with his hands, memorize each curve and plane and expanse of you, the woman who occupied so much space in his heart now, who he wanted to worship and love as much as he could. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. I love you, you know that?” his words were hushed against your skin but you still heard him, your brain foggy, body and heart feeling everything. 

“I love you too, baby, always.”

Eventually, the sweet kisses Jon had pressed to your stomach had turned needier, lustier, his mouth traveling further south to lap at your slick folds until you were whining for him to be inside you again. 

This time he had you on your back, your legs hooked around his back as he easily pushed back inside you, filling you up to the hilt and smirking at the way you clutched his arms, his gold chain swinging just above your face, distracting you till he gave you another thrust, your eyes floating back up to his own. 

God you looked so wrecked, so fucked out, so floaty and needy and it drove him crazy, made him harder than he could ever remember being. 

And you recognized the need in his eyes, encouraging him to give it to you, that you wanted all of him, that you didn’t want him to hold back and that was all the permission he needed before your legs were placed over his shoulders and he was grinding into you, the angle allowing him to push even deeper. 

He fucked you steadily, his strokes deep, sharp and hard at times but alternating between a good medium of gentle and hard, your body quivering and shaking around him as he held you together, held you close to him when you came again, and then again soon after because you were just so sensitive all he had to do was rub your clit that time. 

It was everything you had wanted to experience, tears pricking at your eyes and a few pretty sobs racking your chest as Jon fucked you good, chasing his own release now that he felt satisfied you’d gotten yours. 

“Shh, shh I’m here baby. I know, fuck, I know. Are those good tears or do you need a break?” his soothing voice made you cry harder.

Because they were in fact good tears, tears of pleasure, because you were being fucked so good your body was responding in this way and his thoughtfulness and care for you was the cherry on top.

“G-good, they’re good. Please don’t stop, Jonny,” you pleaded, looking up at him for a moment and then down at where his dick was disappearing into you, the obscene sounds of your sopping hole driving you that much closer to another climax.

Jon swore under his breath at your confession, so unbelievably honored that you felt safe enough to be so vulnerable with him, and turned on at how pretty you looked crying for his dick, your pussy clenching around him in that familiar way that told him all he needed to know. 

Your body felt heavy, tired, sore already as you clung to his shoulders, your lips meeting again until before long his rhythm faltered a bit, his growls getting deeper as he hunkered down, his weight pressing into you, giving you a few more deep strokes before he was groaning out his release, your own gasp following as you felt him pulse inside you, relishing in the fact that he was filling you up with his cum. 

“Holy shit…” you caught your breath and laughed with him as you both collapsed against the couch, tired muscles aching. 

The sun had fully set now, inky blue and black filling the sky, the panting of your breaths filling the room, the movie that had been on the flatscreen long since over. 

You were both still a little high, giggling at how insane that just was, knowing you were both gonna remember this moment for a long time. 

“God, I love you. I’ve never cried like that during sex…” you chuckled against his chest, too spent to care that you were both sweaty now.

“Hmm you begged me so pretty I couldn’t help but give it to you good. You made me feel amazing too.” his nose nudged at your cheek and he dipped his mouth down to press a kiss to yours again, never tired of kissing you. 

Eventually you both agreed a shower was due and you hated to part your body from him but he made sure to keep you close as you got to cleaning up. 

“We should do that more often,” you thought out loud as the warm spray from the shower washed the sweat from your skin. 

Jon was behind you, a nip of his teeth, and a soothing kiss placed on your shoulder making you lean back into his sturdy frame. 

“You already know I’m down, just say the word whenever, baby. You know I’m yours.” 

Yeah, you never felt so damn lucky.

-------

A/N: This was insanely fun to write! I hope it’s just the right amount of filthy for y’all and cheers for my first ever Jon fic! 

Please reblog and comment, I’d love to hear your feedback! Thanks for reading!

------

Some tags, no pressure: @babyyhoneyydarling​ @emilykjh​ @smut-angel​ @ozarkthedog​ @pipsqueakkitten​ @fluffyprettykitty​ @baesforbernthal​ @geniedetails​ @tgigoldie​ @existentialvacuum​ @harryfukkingstlyes​ @buckyhoney​ @write-fromthe-start​ @falconssweetgirl​ 

#amalia writes #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal x black reader #jon bernthal x black female reader #jon bernthal x you #jon bernthal x female reader #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfic #jon bernthal fluff

[lavendertales]

baby doll—Frank Castle x f!reader**

summary: Frank’s had a long day and so did you. He prioritizes you instead.

word count: 2.1k

WARNINGS: cunnilingus from behind, teasing, doggy, creampie, praise kink. filthy times but make it ✨slow✨ established relationship. 

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @bernthalus-christ​ 

read on AO3

It’s been a long day. To put it mildly.

Things took a turn from bad to worse with each passing hour of that day, and all you could want by the end of it was a hot shower and crashing into bed. You’d be spending the evening alone anyway since Frank was away with business.

The term “business” might’ve been an overstatement. Frank didn’t like you being that involved in his actual day-to-day activities, and you didn’t like asking too many questions about it. Your lack of knowledge worked in both your interest and kept you safe.

The routine you had mentally planned took physical shape step by step: first came the shower (a little longer than you had anticipated but it felt so good to rinse off the day’s nerves and exhaustion), then a little snack, and then finally, you hopped into bed.

That king-sized bed felt a little lonely, you had to admit. You scrolled through the channels without anything in particular catching your eye, but you tried not to think too much about Frank and his whereabouts. It did you no good to worry for his safety—but the way you knew him, the others standing in his way would be unsafe.

It must’ve been a couple of years now that the two of you were together. Frank claimed loud and proud that after his family’s tragic demise, there was no one else for him. He could look at no other woman, none seemed interesting after what he shared with his wife. And when you came into his life, he was shocked at how much he’d grown to care about you in such a short period. He was shocked by the fact that he couldn’t get you out of his mind, that he craved to see you and be with you each moment of the day.

Took him a while to accept all of those feelings though. And it wasn’t easy to follow in the footsteps of his late wife: in the beginning, you felt a certain pressure, thinking how you were the first woman he showed interest in and that however you were to proceed, you had to do it kindly and carefully.

And Frank was a very giving man. The first time he took you to bed, it felt like you spent hours together in between the sheets. He was attentive, passionate, and caring, and you promised yourself at that moment to never take him for granted.

Of course, there were times when both of you needed something stronger. The sex turned greedier and rougher in a second: skin slapping against skin, angry grunts, and moans and the occasional cuss word slipped past your wet and swollen mouths.

Either way, there was immense satisfaction to be felt at the end regardless of the pace.

You heard heavy feet stomping outside your bedroom, your heart in your throat. You stood up halfway, clearing your throat. “Frank? Is that you?”

Moments later, Frank appeared in the doorway, wide eyes staring at you.

“What are you doing home?” you asked, ecstatic.

“Finished early. Long fucking day.”

You huffed, shuffling underneath the blanket. “Mine too.”

Frank snickered, licking his lips as he approached the bed.

You knew that look. You knew it all too well, and just as easily as always, heat pooled in your belly, skin afire.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“I was thinking of taking a shower. Wouldn’t want to get in bed like that.”

“Dirty?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I like it.”

With a half-smile resting cheekily on his face, Frank began stripping off his shirt. You absorbed every inch of the skin that was slowly exposed before you.

Now shirtless, Frank crawled atop of you, leaning down to kiss you. Just from that kiss alone, you could tell this wouldn’t be your usual fuck-till-you-drop evenings. That was fine by you; after the day you had—and the day Frank seemed to have had—both of you needed some comfort.

His chain dangled from his neck, tickling and bumping onto your jaw as he peppered kisses all over your face, making his way to your neck and collarbones. You huffed softly, caressing his hair with one hand, the other impatiently moving to his belt.

Frank smiled at you, lifting his head from the crook of your neck. “Greedy.”

“Can’t help it.”

“So it’s my fault then?”

“A little, yes.”

Both of you giggled, and Frank’s hands worked against your pajamas, giving concise instructions (“hands up for me”, “ass up”, and damn if he wasn’t so good at that). Once he had you stark naked beneath the sheets, a true feast for his eyes, then he stood back up and began unbuckling his pants.

“Hey, do me a favor, baby doll,” he said.

Your eyes were stuck on his calloused, large hands working to free his cock from its denim confinement, and you barely heard him.

“Turn around.”

Then you heard him.

You gazed at him with those doe eyes that drove him mad with lust.

“Turn around, on all fours,” he specified.

Oh.

Did you misread the situation? Was he hungry for more than something slow and intimate? Was he about to fuck you well into the mattress till you screamed his name for all the obnoxious neighbors to hear?

Your body tingled with curiosity and anticipation, so naturally, you obeyed.

You turned around and stood there on all fours, just as he had requested. You took deep breaths in and out, the anticipation almost prevailing you from succeeding. His hand reached to give you a slap on your ass, to which you giggled.

But a broken gasp escaped past your lips when you felt Frank’s fingers teasing your clit, testing the waters as it were. His index moved up and down your lips, teasing only the surface, barely daring to protrude the ring of skin that so badly needed attention.

“Frank—“

“Shh. Don’t talk. Let me do this properly.”

That sentence alone managed to get you wet like he turned on a switch. You couldn’t mutter any reply, not when his lips pressed against your pussy and began to drink from you.

You nearly lost your balance as you felt his tongue lapping at your folds, dutifully eating you out, yet none of that felt rough. It was, by any definition known to mankind, intimate, craving and craving, and delivering most sweetly.

“Shit, you get so wet, always so…”

Frank’s voice trailed off, seemingly getting lost in your depths as he resumed his filthy dinner. He was so lost in your scent, in your warmth, how soaked you got for him. He loved being able to turn you on with the slightest touches, with the softest words.

Christ, he could never get enough of you.

He began to impatiently slurp from your cunt, the sound emerging from in between your thighs so obscene that you could only smile. Your belly ached and burned; you arched your back to allow him more access. You felt a strong vibration being sent straight inside your body—it felt like Frank was… humming.

Fuck. He was actually humming against your pussy as he ate you out.

That’s what broke you.

“Frank—oh fuck—Frank, I’m coming—“

“Mhm—do it, come on—“

“Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m gonna come—“

He kept his pace, his tongue and lips drinking out of you like he had been dehydrated for days and you were his fountain. Mere moments later, you squirmed as you came on his tongue, his strong hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. It felt so overwhelming you could’ve easily started crying.

He was always overwhelming you one way or the other.

He kept his grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him. He peppered kisses from your ass cheeks up to your spine and finally, grabbed the back of your neck to signal you to meet him for a kiss. You felt him hard against your ass and you shuddered, grinding so that you could feel more of him.

“Always so eager,” Frank laughed.

His laugh was so rare and so different when it was just you and him. It was serene in a certain way, clear and warm, and you loved knowing you could bring that out of him even in the most intimate moments.

“I need you, baby, please,” you whined.

He kissed your mouth again, giving you a full taste of your arousal this time, and you smiled into it.

“Please?” you asked as innocently as you possibly could.

“Since you ask so nicely…”

You chuckled, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“How could I ever say no to you, baby doll?”

God, this man. He was everything you could’ve never imagined, and everything you could’ve possibly wanted in one. At times you were still flabbergasted that someone so closeted and hurt could open up and allow you in his life in such special ways and still manage to give you parts of himself.

Once Frank pushed himself inside of you at last, giving that first experimental thrust, your body was filled with an explosive sensation of indigence. Your moans served as his eternal encouragement to keep going. You needn’t say any words; Frank learned the whereabouts and tell signs of your body with ease.

His pace was considerate enough to be fitting in the “making love” terminology but powerful enough to let you know that it was him taking your body to the highest mountain of pleasure. Even as he took you from behind – and this was quite possibly your favorite position for the both of you—you felt the love, the care, and the day’s exhaustion. You both relished the moment, seeking not necessarily relief, but comfort.

But honestly, it was hard to hold yourself together in one piece whenever he was inside of you. He hit that spot that made your toes curl with ease, ridiculously so even.

“Baby doll—you’re so fucking perfect—“

Sometimes words failed Frank. He wasn’t the most talkative person on earth, but you overwhelmed him just as much as he did you. Even then, as your ass bounced back on his cock and you were arched so beautifully, words fled his mind altogether—coherent ones, at least.

“Oh God—you’re so—oh—“

Turns out, words fled your mind as well.

They were futile anyway. All you knew at that moment was Frank’s buried to the hilt in you, his harsh, protective grip over your hips, and the burn in your lower belly, begging to be ignited.

Whatever deep breath you took, it came out broken down into several small ones, your lungs working overtime to keep you conscious. You didn’t even care about coming or not. The feeling of having him so deep within you was more than enough after the day you’ve both had.

“Baby, I’m—“he tried to warn.

“It’s okay… it’s okay. Come for me.”

You needn’t ask him again or even say it in the first place: the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, whether purposely or not, drove him mad with lust. A few more thrusts and he pushed as deep as he could, emptying himself inside of you with a guttural moan. You thought you heard him brokenly moan other things—perhaps your pet name or even your name, you weren’t sure.

All you knew was that his hand snaked around your throat, thus pulling your upper half to meet with his face. Still throbbing inside you, Frank sloppily kissed your mouth, causing you to moan into the kiss.

“That’s a good girl,” he smiled into it, sucking on your lower lip. “I’ll tell you something else, baby doll.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Pulling out of you, Frank was left mesmerized by the sight of his load dripping out of you, triggering some primal instinct that yelled at him to overpower you.

But he was too spent to follow through.

You were now resting flat on your back, staring at him in adoration as he leaned down to peck your lips sweetly.

“Tomorrow,” he said in between little kisses, “I’m fucking you properly.”

“This was proper too.”

He smirked, biceps tensing under your tender touch over them.

“I meant I’ll fuck you into this mattress till the neighbors complain.”

“Always the gentleman,” you replied with a happily exhausted smile.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #jon bernthal smut

[dazed-nymphsss]

𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞

┕━» frank castle x fem!reader

⚠warnings⚠: smut (p in the v, unprotected sex, mentions of oral fem receiving) adult content

『•• you steal Frank's cowboy hat, and he exacts his revenge. ••』

It started with an innocent game of keep-away, and maybe this was your plan all along, but with the way this was going, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You better hold onto that hat, baby, if it falls off your head, I stop.”

His words echoed in your cock-drunk mind as he rutted into you at a precise and punishing pace, the tip of his cock pressing again at the perfect spot as your ankles rested atop his shoulders.

One of your arms was desperately trying to hold the hat on your head, the other tangled in the bedsheets to anchor you against his persistent pace.

All you could do was nod with a string of moans that resembled an obedient “uh-huh”, your brain lost in the midst of lust.

“Look at you, so fucked out and pretty with my hat on,” he chuckled at your state, his thrusts never faltering.

He had been sliding in and out of you for what seemed like hours since you teased him, and it paid off much more than you ever planned it to. He had started by opening your thighs and tasting you, licking you to completion until you were practically begging for his cock.

“Please, Frankie, f-fuck!” You whined, grasping at his hands, and Frank cooing at you.

He complied and laced his fingers with yours before using his other hand to gently grasp your chin, making you look at him. 

“I need to hear what you need, darlin’, what to you want, huh?” You were thankful he seemed to be in a giving mood, because any other time he would be edging her, and if he did that, you might just start crying.

“Wanna cum! Please, Frankie, I need to cum!” You pleaded between panting, labored breaths. 

“Look at you, using your manners, taking me so well, of course you can cum sweet girl,” he allowed, and he chuckled at the sigh of relief you released. 

Within seconds, you felt the coil that as wound up deep inside you snap, your back arching and your muscles tensing, lustful sounds falling from your mouth that ultimately led to Frank’s release, the both of you grasping onto each other like lifelines. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you whimpered as you felt him pull out of you and move to your side, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked down on you in awe. 

Granted, the hat was crooked and disheveled on your head, but Frank would swear that you never looked better. Brushing off a few stray hairs, he picked the hat off your head before setting it on his own, smirking as you grumbled futility in protest. 

“You know, sweetheart, if you wanted to get my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“  Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face.  “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds.  It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home. 

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation. 

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply. 

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability. 

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips. 

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now. 

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room. 

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair. 

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.” 

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway. 

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly. 

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips. 

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote. 

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement. 

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner. 

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week. 

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.” 

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..” 

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?” 

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in. 

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face. 

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears. 

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows. 

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered. 

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims. 

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment. 

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher netflix #the punisher imagine #punisher #netflix the punisher #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #fc

[chellestrash]

Please, Mr. Ghost Face

Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)

Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.

Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!

Word count: 7.2k

AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.

You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.

You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.

“Right, I think I'm ready!”

You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.

“So, what did you decide to go as?”

You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.

“Did you figure it out?”

Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Shit, sorry.”

You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.

“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”

Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.

Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.

The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.

“Oh, fuck.”

You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.

“Think it'll do?”

You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.

“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”

You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.

“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”

“Corner shop.”

He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.

The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.

Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.

“What?”

The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”

Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.

“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”

You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.

“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.

“Mmmmm, fuck.”

He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.

“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”

Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.

Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.

Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.

A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.

He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.

His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.

“Oh, there he is.”

You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“You try that shit one more time-”

He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.

“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”

“Oh.”

You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.

“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.

You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.

With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.

“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”

Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.

“What?”

You ask once the phone call is over.

“You're the one who said it's not happening.”

***

You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.

“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”

Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.

“Just go.”

You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.

“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”

The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.

“Whatever you say, Frankie.”

***

This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.

You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.

You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.

With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.

It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.

He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.

He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.

“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”

She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.

“Are we showing our costumes off?”

Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.

“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”

“Oh, fun!”

Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.

“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”

***

Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.

“Hi.”

You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.

“You gotta put the mask on.”

“Mind your business, yeah?”

He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.

“Frankie-“

You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.

“Leave it.”

He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.

There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.

“Took you long enough.”

You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.

“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.

“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”

“Stop.”

His voice harsh with the warning.

“Why?”

You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.

“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”

Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.

“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”

You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.

“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”

You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.

“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”

“Yeah?”

You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.

“Make me.”

The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.

There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.

“F-”

He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.

“That's it.”

Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.

Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.

You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.

There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.

“Keep it on.”

You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.

“Jesus fucking-”

Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.

“Seriously, this shit again?”

You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.

“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”

You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.

Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.

“Alright.”

He slowly pulls the mask back on.

“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”

Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.

“Your fucking call.”

His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.

His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.

There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.

“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”

He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.

You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.

“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”

“Oh, shut up.”

You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.

“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"

Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”

Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.

Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.

There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.

“That shit really gets you that bad?”

One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.

You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, you've got no idea.”

You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.

“Think I got some.”

He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.

“You get off on these things, huh?”

He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.

“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”

He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.

You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.

“Yeah, you got me.”

You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.

“You got me but-”

“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”

He thinks he has you now.

“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."

The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.

“You know what would help?”

You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.

“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”

His grip on you tightens with your words.

“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”

It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.

Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.

“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”

You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.

“This what you fucking want?”

He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,

“You're fucking sick, you know that?”

He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.

“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”

He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.

“God d-“

He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.

Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.

You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.

“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”

You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.

“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”

He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.

“Fuck.”

You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.

You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.

“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”

Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.

“The knife got you this close?”

You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.

With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.

“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”

And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.

“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”

He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.

“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”

Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.

“Fuuuuuuuck-“

He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.

Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.

You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.

You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Shit.”

You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.

“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”

You tease and he follows up with a scoff.

“Yeah okay, c'mere.”

He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.

“Attagirl.”

He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.

“See? You can be nice sometimes.”

He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.

The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.

You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.

You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.

“Frank.”

You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.

“Mhhh.”

He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.

“Frank-”

Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.

Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.

He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.

“Shit, Frankie...”

You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.

You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.

You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You okay?”

He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.

“Fair.”

He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.

Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.

“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”

You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.

“Yeah I bet.”

He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.

He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.

“Can you walk?”

He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.

“Shut up.”

You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.

“Can you walk?”

He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”

“Okay, that’s it. Out.”

He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.

“You wanna get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah.”

You nod.

“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”

You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.

“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”

His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.

“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”

You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank catsle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank catsle x you #marvel punisher #frank catsle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal character #frank catsle fan fiction #jon bernthal fanfiction

[darlingshane]

Dirty Laundry

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: Shane doesn't approve of the way you do laundry. He tries to school you, but he loves you so much he can't really stay mad at you for long, especially when you start taking your clothes off.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Crack, Oral Sex (f. recieving), Vaginal sex, Pet Names, Bratty reader. No ZA.

Word Count: 1.9k // AO3 Link.

You were aware Shane had his quirks before moving in together. Some you already knew, like having five pairs of boots from the same brand, or the way he chews his thumbnail when he’s nervous, or how he frantically runs his hand on his hair when he’s pissed… Most of those were quickly revealed after you started dating. Others you'd only come aware of them upon moving in together.

One that is highly surprising is his obsession with laundry. You noticed that his clothes were always perfectly clean and ironed as he wore them on any occasion you went out, no matter how fancy or casual. But once you were sharing the same bedroom, you found out that even his underwear is always neatly pressed and folded in the drawer as if it had just come out of the package. With how much he works, you always thought he'd have taken to a cleaners or something, but that’s not the case. He not only cares for his own clothes but making laundry is something he actually enjoys. It relaxes him, he says. Which it’s the complete opposite for you. It makes you anxious anytime you have to do it. Especially the folding and sorting part. When you lived alone, there was always a pile sitting on that chair in the corner of your room. But not anymore. Now that you are living with Shane there are no more random piles collecting dust for days at a time in any chair of the house. Anytime he does laundry, you come home to find your drawers perfectly organized. It’s not something you can complain about because Shane is a true dream of a partner. Quirks and all, you wouldn’t have it any other way. So, in return, any time it’s your turn to make laundry, no matter how much you hate it, you make the minimal effort to at least take the same care of his clothes as he does for yours. Though you could tell that sometimes he doesn’t approve of your messy folding technique, and has to rearrange them when you’re not around, he never says anything either.

But today, when it's your turn to do laundry, he comes home to catch you transferring all the dirty clothes from the hamper into the washing machine, both yours and his without much regard of type, color, texture… That's how you've always done it. Yes, it's messy, and you've had a couple of mishaps, but nothing really atrocious ever happened. You never put that much thought into it, to be honest. It's just clothing. But not for Shane. Watching his precious shirts, and uniform with the rest of the load makes him physically ill. He stares at you as if you were killing a puppy.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he goes off, taking stuff out of the washer. “You can't mix delicates with towels. And what the fuck is this?” he picks up a pair of dirty sneakers from the bottom of the drum. “You were really gonna wash them with all these? You're a fuckin’ savage.”

You lean against the dryer and try not to burst into laughter at how annoyed he is. It's kinda cute actually to see him frown at you with scorn, and hearing his voice pitch a little higher than usual.

These past few weeks, you've been collecting a series of firsts since you moved into your new home. The first time you cooked in your new kitchen, the first time you disagreed when it came to rearranging the living room furniture, the first night you woke him up when you heard a strange noise in the hallway… And today it's the first time you've truly seen him irritated.

“It's just clothes, babe. Who cares?”

“I care.” He frantically goes through the heap of clothes, divorcing them into several piles on top of the washer. “Please tell me at least you're not using the speed cycle to wash everything.”

“What? It saves time, water, electricity…”

“Yeah, but at what cost.”

“Gee, it's not like I murdered someone.”

“You were about to murder my uniform. That's the real crime.”

“Hmm, you look better without it anyway.” You tease, reaching with your hand to pinch his booty covered by a pair of jeans.

“Stop, this is serious.” Shane stays firm in his position but tries to hide one corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile. “Look, I’m gonna show you how it’s done.”

“Ohh, fun. I'm about to get schooled by the laundry police. Please enlighten me, Officer.”

You roll your eyes and half listen to him explaining the washer’s control panel to you as if you were an idiot. It’s not that you don’t know how to use it, it’s that you’re lazy and rather put everything together and save time. Then, he proceeds to elaborate on which categories you should separate the different types of fabrics.

“That would take me all day if I have to do that many loads.”

“So? That’s what weekends are for?”

“Noooo. Weekends are for resting, watching movies, and chilling.”

“Who said you can't have that too?”

“You! I think I lost five years of my life by just listening to you explaining how to do laundry.”

“You’re being a little brat today.”

“Am I now?” You smirk and push one of the piles he had on top of the washer to the floor. “Whoops.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“Nothing.” You push the next one.

“You're playing a dangerous game, darling.”

“Yeah? I just want you to teach me again how to do it.” Next, you grab the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing, pull it over your head and dangle it in your finger. “Where should I put this, deputy?”

“I'd put it up your ass. Bet it'd look real nice there.”

You snort and let the shirt fall to the floor.

“What about this, Mr. Delicate?” you unclasp your bra, slip the straps off your arms, and drape it on his shoulder. “Do you like it there?”

Then, you brace your palms on his chest, your lips draw a grin as you lean to whisper closer to his mouth. “Or do you want me to put it back on?”

“Don't fucking dare putting it back on?” He mutters, swatting the bra off his shoulder before having his hand holding your jaw firmly.

There's actually no other choice for him than to join your little game. Laundry be damned when it comes to choosing between you or clothes.

Licking his lips, he pulls his head back, eyes roaming down to your bare chest as you move your hands to hold his waist. When his stare travels back up, you both lock eyes for a second before having his mouth pressed against yours with a sloppy, pushing flick of his tongue forcing itself past your lips.

His hand keeps your head still while he shoves your back against the wall. His free hand snakes its way under the waistband of your sweatpants at the front. His fingers shamelessly rub your pussy back and forth over your panties, tucking the fabric in your slit. Hitting all the right spots, he earns a good moan out of you.

All of a sudden, his tongue comes to a stop. His hand too. Shane drops to his knees. From that position he pulls your sweatpants down to your ankles and grabs your hips as his tongue juts out to draw a wet circle around your navel. He then trails down, as your skin comes alive into goose flesh. He yanks your underwear down your legs to join your pants at the floor before having his mouth shoved at the junction of your hips. His mouth travels all over your sex, leaving kisses and nibbles your outer lips, licking your folds, teasing your clit…

“Shane… Fuck…” you bury your fingers in his hair and pull tight as the tip of his tongue circles your opening.

Your body writhes against the hard surface holding your back, your grip tightens on his hair while his lips viciously start sucking your clit. Your pussy melts as much as any time he goes down on you and just as fast as before, his mouth is suddenly gone before the job is done, leaving that sweet aching lingering all over your cunt. He lifts his stare to seize your unsatisfied expression as you gasp for air. He quickly yanks his shirt off before holding your hips and bringing you down to the floor.

“C’mere, dirty lil brat,” he growls, and you yelp as he manhandles your body, rolling you to your back right on top of the pile of dirty laundry you tossed to the floor.

Shane removes the clothing hanging around your ankles and sets your knees widely apart so he can kneel in between. He unzips his jeans, pulls them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxer briefs to release his erection. He’s hard as rock. The flared tip of his dick is swollen and red, begging for some friction. There’s a dark shine in his eyes that matches the glossy layer of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. As he lowers his body down, you frame his face with both your palms, pull his face closer to capture his mouth while he blindly guides himself into your opening. Your core knots tightly as he pushes all his length up to the hilt. His breathing shallows as you devour his mouth with hunger. He comfortably settles on top of you, holding one of his arms on the side of your head while his other hand clutches to your hips. His thrusts come sharp and steady, filling the room with the relentless slapping of his hips against your skin and the desperate sounds of your kisses.

“God, I love you,” you groan in his mouth.

“Love you more, sweetheart.”

You breathe the air of his lungs, eat his tongue and swallow the sweet grunts that come out of his throat one beat at a time as you both lose the ability to draw deeper breaths. His cock swiftly comes in and out of you as your legs tremble and lock. You move your hands to hold his ass as the erratic waving of his hips drives you out of your mind. A pulse later you're hit with a mighty climax that almost makes you lose consciousness. As your walls flutter around his thickness he spills all his warm juices deep in your walls.

“Fuck me,” his voice falters as he slips out of you.

He lays flat on top of you for a moment as your orgasm slowly ebbs. His skin is warm and damp against yours as your palm glides up his back to comb the hairs at his nape.

“Oh god, now the laundry is dirtier than before,” you laugh softly as his smile grows wide against your neck.

“And whose fault is that, huh?” he lifts his head to look at you with an eyebrow slightly raised.

“Technically… it’s yours. If you had let me do it as I wanted, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Ain’t that right?” he playfully pinches your side making you jolt and chuckle.

“I mean… I’d rather do you than do laundry, so I'm not complaining.”

“Yeah?” he sweetly dips to leave a chaste peck on your lips. “I'd rather do you, too.”

#shane walsh x reader #shane walsh #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #fanfiction #darlingwrites

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank's a part of your friend group and invites you to hang out one day, unaware of your massive crush on him. During the visit, you let it slip that you're very inexperienced, and he offers to teach you everything you've missed out on.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex, drinking, and smoking

Author's Note: Oh my god! It's finally here, my first fic series! I've had this idea for months now and I've finally got the courage to write it out and post it. I wanna say a huge thank you to @chellestrash and @suitsofwo3 for their continuous support on this series! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 5k

​​To say you had feelings for Frank Castle would be a gross understatement. It was truly nothing short of a schoolgirl crush, an all consuming infatuation that made you want him even more. Being anywhere near him made you feel like you were back in grade school with an uncontrollable flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and you knew you had to at least try and attempt to cease their movements.

But knowing and acting are two very different things, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to stop them. Not when every smile he flashes your way makes them beat their tiny wings so fast that you feel weak in the knees. You knew logically it couldn’t end well, not with him being in your friend group, but you had a feeling you could keep up the friendly facade and not let it slip that your feelings for him are much more intense. 

After all, he’s confident, handsome, and much older than you. How hard could it be?

“How hard could it be,” you repeat, whispering to yourself in the car. Your eyes are trained on the road in front of you as you listen while your GPS navigates you through the city. Frank had invited you over to his place after the last get-together the group had, where you admitted to the fact that you hadn’t seen his, apparently, favorite movie from the ‘80s. It was almost too perfect of a setup and you curse the universe for planning it all. Of all the movies you haven’t seen, you had to confess to this one?

In your defense, it was nearly impossible to decline his offer when his charm flared up like it had that night. Boisterous laughter, crinkles by his eyes when he grinned, and a, “Come on, you’ve gotta see it!” that was so warm and welcoming it had you agreeing before you thought about the implications of that damn nod you gave him.

Thinking back on that night, you nearly miss your turn onto the road that leads to his apartment. You catch it just in time though and as the automated voice informs you that he lives on the left, the anxiety sets in. You begin to focus on your breathing and you find an open parking spot right next to his black van, exactly where he said there would be. Mentally thanking him for eliminating some of the pressure of finding where to park, you pull into the spot and look towards the door with the metal numbers of his address bolted on the plaque beside it.

Once the car is parked and the ignition is off, you close your eyes and inhale enough air until your chest puffs out. “It’s just Frank,” you reassure yourself, attempting to slow down your heart rate. It does little use as his face flashes in your mind when you speak his name, so you decide not to delay the meeting any longer.

With a dry mouth and fidgeting hands you make your way to his apartment, giving yourself one last full breath before raising your hand to knock on his door. Your knuckles sound out against the wood, and there’s only a second of silence before you hear a muffled, “Coming!”

The brief moment to plaster a relaxed smile on your face passes all too quickly and you’re suddenly met with Frank’s warm grin. Failing to ignore the way he’s leaning against the doorframe, you can’t help your eyes immediately glancing at his bicep as it stretches the fabric of his sleeve. You quickly force your gaze back to his face and give yourself a mental shake.

“Hey, kid, glad you could make it,” he greets you kindly. You’d be lying if you said the nickname he reserved for you wasn’t bittersweet. It made you feel special that it only left his lips in reference to you, but logically you knew it was because you were the youngest in the group. The truly bitter part was hearing it and feeling your heart sink that little bit lower; you wondered if he ever saw you as more, if you’d ever be able to satisfy your steadfast crush.

But those spiral sessions are best had at home, so you push away the thoughts and focus on spending time with him. All you’ve ever wanted was time alone with him and you’re not sure when you’ll get the chance again after today.

“Yeah, of course,” your genuine smile takes over, ”I had to see what all the fuss was about.” He chuckles at your joke before stepping aside, gesturing for you to come in. Squeezing past his body, you step into the living room of his home. It’s bigger than you expected, housing a sectional couch and wooden coffee table in the center. There’s also a large television mounted to the wall that’s clearly the main focus of the room. One sweatshirt and a lone blanket are draped on the back of the couch, making up the only clutter in the space. You don’t realize Frank is watching you take it all in until he gently clears his throat.

“Is it as glorious as you expected?” His voice sounds out from behind you and you turn to face him. There’s a smirk on his face and you find yourself chuckling to avoid shrinking into yourself.

“Just… different than I pictured is all,” you gesture vaguely to the open space of the room. There’s a scoff before he walks past you and towards the light grey couch.

“‘Clean’, you mean?” There’s a huff surrounding the question as he plops down onto the couch.

“Well…” you trail off, tilting your head to the side. A smile slowly takes over his face as you tease him.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says as he pats the cushion of the couch. You follow his instruction, opting to keep one seat between the two of you. There’s a pause for a moment and you let your eyes wander to his thighs. His legs are slightly spread on the couch and it’s hard to ignore the way the fabric of his denim jeans are struggling to make room for the muscles of his thighs.

“So you really haven’t seen the greatest film of all time?” He begins again, disbelief clear in his tone. His voice makes your line of sight shoot back up to his face and it’s now your turn to wear a smile.

“You sure are creating a lot of hype for this movie. I hope it doesn’t disappoint,” you laugh softly. His eyes grow wide as a look of shock takes over his face.

“‘Disappoint’? You kiddin’ me? I’m pretty sure this movie paved the way for cinema.” He gets up excitedly, walking towards one of the thin bookshelves that frame the television. His fingers scan the titles quickly, trailing down the rows until he finds one. He pulls the case out from where it was sandwiched between the others before turning around to show it off with a wave of his hand.

“Made sure to rewind it for you yesterday.” You try to ignore the way your brain jumps to conclusions at those few words. The thoughts are loud, however, and you hear them despite your wishes. He really thought this ahead? Was he actually looking forward to seeing you?

Frank pulls the tape from out of its case and kneels down in front of the television. There’s a large, grey VCR lying on the ground and he gently pushes the tape past the small hinge, a tiny whirring sound escaping as it accepts the tape.

“God, I’m really showing my age here, aren’t I?” He nods towards the old technology on the wooden floor.

“I mean, I’ve seen my parents use them before,” you answer honestly.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, bringing his palm to cover his face before dragging it down his cheeks. The giggle that escapes you is involuntary, he looks so cute each time you tease him. You love these moments and how effortless it is to joke around with him, unlike when your usually constant bashfulness is present. 

Once the tape is in, the static on the screen crackles to life and there’s a few seconds before the black fades into a dusty orange sky. As the opening scene begins to play, you feel like you recognize the actors’ names as they appear over the footage. Nothing immediately comes to mind though, so you ignore the nagging feeling of trying to place them and focus on the film.

That proves to be more difficult than you intended. Admittedly, all you can think about is his scent lingering in the space around you. It’s almost as if the couch is bathed in his smell and it feels as though you’re drowning in it in the best way. You halfway register the dialogue sounding out and decide to at least entertain the idea of paying attention. There’s a shot of the inside of an airport, and you watch as the word Diehard comes across the center of the screen. Chuckles erupt from you and Frank’s immediately turning to face you with a confused pout.

“You think Diehard is the greatest movie of all time?” Your words are unintentionally soaked in disbelief and you swear you can see his defensive guard come up.

“You tryna’ tell me it’s not?! Cause it’s clearly up there!”

“I don’t know, Frank,” you start. Each time the film is brought up around you, you hear that it’s either the best or it’s overrated. You just didn’t expect him to be this much of a fan.

“That’s right! You don’t know!” He seems proud of his argument and even laughs towards the end of his sentence. You shake your head as your smile begins to hurt your cheeks due to how long you’ve been wearing it for. He reaches for the old remote, its buttons faded with its age, and the screen halts to a stop as he presses pause.

“I’ll be right back,” Frank explains with a grunt as he pushes himself off of the couch. You turn and watch him walk to the kitchen, your eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and how they almost brush the open doorframe as he passes through it. Not wanting to let your thoughts continue any more down the path they’re already on, you force your attention back to the television and wait for him to return.

“Here you are,” his deep voice sounds out a moment later and you look up at him. He’s sitting down onto the couch cushion with the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the necks of two beer bottles. He stretches his arm towards you, offering one of the drinks and you’re distracted by the veins running up the inside of his forearm.

“What? S’there somethin’ wrong?” he asks confusedly, his own gaze glancing between your clasped hands and the bottles. You snap out of your trance and stare at the beers again, racking your brain for any excuse to use to decline the drink.

“No, thank you, I’m all good,” your voice comes out stiff. Real smooth, you curse yourself as you see Frank’s expression change. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to understand your sudden and strange behavior.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” he begins, setting the bottles down and leaning back into the couch. His entire body is turned towards you and it’s clear that you’re the new subject of the conversation. You swallow thickly, your nerves already acting up.

“Never seen you drink, never seen you smoke… Hell, I haven’t seen you do much of anything,” he continues, listing his examples off on each finger. “Why is that? You some goody two shoes or something?” he finishes with a raspy chuckle. He reaches for his beer, popping the lid off with the opener from the coffee table and taking a long sip as his eyes meet yours over the glass in his hand.

You wish you could come up with something, anything, to get you out of this situation before you’re forced to confess to him. You open your mouth, expecting your tongue to string the words together for you, but there’s nothing but silence in the room. Quickly, you begin grasping for an explanation, only to be left stuttering over your words. Frank’s eyebrows raise and there’s an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he puts his drink down again.

“Uh oh,” he laughs quietly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He squints at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes flicker all around your face. “There’s somethin’ else there,” he whispers mostly to himself, “gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”

If none of this was enough to make your face grow warm, it certainly is now that you’ve heard the pet name leave his mouth. You feel as if you’re curling inward on yourself and you hate that the ground won’t show you mercy by opening up and swallowing you whole. Fidgeting with your fingers, you wonder if there’s any lie you can try and deliver confidently this time. But who are you kidding? You were never good at it, and it’s best to just rip off the bandaid.

With one last glance up at him, you see he’s not going to budge until he gets an answer, so you give him what he’s looking for. “Yeah, that’s… ‘my deal’,” you phrase his words in air quotes. “I haven’t really done, well, anything, and I don’t really know where to start,” you admit, still not looking him in the eyes. Frank nods as he lets your voice fill the air and you notice him making another curious face.

“When you say ‘anything’, what exactly do you mean?” he asks in a softer tone this time, no hint of teasing in his words. It’s then that you finally meet his brown eyes and see the kindness in their warm color. You bring in a deep breath and prepare yourself for the worst possible reaction to your following words.

“Um—,” you cut yourself off with a sigh, letting out all the air in your lungs and attempting to stall the embarrassment a moment longer. “Okay, like drinking, smoking, drugs…” you continue the list and watch him nod after each addition. “Never had sex, never—,”

“Bullshit,” his rumbly voice interrupts you, shaking his head in disbelief. The pout that forms on your lips is involuntary; you feared he wouldn’t have believed it, but you suppose it’s better than him teasing you. From the corner of your eyes you watch his lips part and his jaw go slack as he realizes what you said was the truth.

“Christ, you… you’re serious?” he questions as he looks at you in shock. You only nod silently, not sure how to continue from here. There’s a long pause where Frank is still as stone, remaining silent but seemingly trying to process the new information he’s discovered. The air feels so thick you worry that if you open your mouth to speak you’ll only choke.

The sound of a rumbly chuckle fills the air and you look up to see his wide smile. He’s dragging his palm down his mouth and rubbing his jaw as he shifts his hips forward and leans back into the cushions once more. You feel anger bubbling up and it quickly replaces the mortification that had been consuming you for the past few minutes.

“Screw you! I knew you wouldn’t have taken it seriously.” You cross your arms over your chest as you turn away from him. You felt stupid for sharing this with him, and now he has the audacity to laugh? Over something this personal?

“No, no, sweetheart, hey—,“ the pet name again does nothing to dull the burning under the skin of your cheeks. “I wasn’t teasing it’s just…,” he sighs heavily and shrugs his shoulders, “it’s a surprise, y’know?” 

As much as you want to stay upset with him, you’re not sure your resolve can last that long. You attempt to maintain your defensive position and don’t dare soften the angry glare you’re shooting at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he starts, but you don’t budge. “C’mon, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it, s’all. Kinda hard to believe, honestly.” Your head perks up at the last sentence and you shoot him a look of pure disbelief.

“Yeah, well… you’re obviously the only one who thinks that,” you mumble, the self-deprecating words falling past your lips before you even register them. Frank sighs deeply and you notice the way his eyes are flickering all around your face, presumably trying to gauge how upset you are.

“It’s not like I want this,” you huff, deflating into the couch, “but now it’s like even if I want to try stuff, I don’t know what I’m doing.” You begin picking at your fingers as the insecurity grows with his silence. “It’s like everybody did the crash course in high school and they have experience. I don't even know where to start…” As you trail off, the silence becomes deafening and you find yourself missing his laughter because at least that was something.

“Aaaaand I said too much. Sorry, it’s just something that’s frustrated me for years and… yeah,” you decide it’s better to end the conversation than wait on a reply that won’t come.

“You didn’t say too much,” he finally speaks up, and the weight on your chest begins to dissipate. “Was lettin’ you get it all out,” he explains. He holds his chin between his thumb and index finger, grazing his jaw lightly and tilting his head as he thinks over your confession. You find yourself subconsciously holding your breath as you prepare for the worst possible response he could give you.

“Said you didn’t know where to start, right? Why don’t we start with something small, hmm? How about that beer?” Frank nods his head once in the direction of the abandoned bottle he had grabbed for you. You eye it hesitantly and think over the worst that could happen. Coming up with virtually nothing, you nod back to him, deciding it would be one small victory to deal with today. 

As you wrap your fingers around the bottle, you raise your hand and turn to Frank. He mimics you, lifting his own in the air before clearing his throat.

“To…” he trails off, trying to come up with something as a cheer. His eyes drift off to somewhere else in the room, his lips parted as his eyebrows pull together. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his very serious thinking face. Not wanting him to hurt himself from racking his brain much longer, you speak up.

“To trying new things,” you say confidently, and the second the words leave your mouth you’re already regretting them. You physically wince at your word choice and now it’s Frank’s turn to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty lame,” you admit to him. “Sounded better in my head.”

“Think it sounded perfect,” he replies before tilting his bottle towards you. You follow his lead as he brings the drink to his lips and you don’t think twice before tilting your own head back. The second the flavor hits your tongue you can feel your face scrunching up involuntarily. You bring the bottle away immediately and your lips purse at the taste in your mouth. Frank’s laughter rumbles out deep from his chest and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows it down with no reaction. 

“Attagirl, one thing down. That wasn't too hard now was it?” he speaks once he’s brought the glass bottle away from his mouth. Thankfully, the nasty beer is enough to distract you from reacting to his praise.

“You didn’t tell me it tasted like piss!” you exclaim, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand.

“This is actually one of the good ones,” you watch as he takes another swig. “But you’re right, it’s not all that great,” he admits before licking his lips and looking at you.

Any residual awkwardness you felt only moments before has all but vanished and you feel comfort just being here with him. You smile softly to yourself as you brush your thumb along the curved glass of the neck of the bottle.

“Thank you for this,” you speak up, “it feels nice to get something crossed off the list.”

“Any time, kid,” his voice is raspy and you try to dissuade your stomach from doing flips at his tone.

The smile on your face grows wider in the silence, feeling a small amount of pride bubbling in your chest knowing that you tried something new. It doesn’t seem like such a big feat once you’ve climbed over the hill, but there’s always been that fear that keeps you paralyzed and unable to even attempt to move forward. You truly meant your words, you’re thankful that he gave you that little push.

“Y’know, I could help… with the list, I mean.” You’re almost certain you’ve never felt your heart beat quite this hard before. Frank waits until your eyes have locked with his before he speaks slowly, carefully chooses his words as he continues. “O-Only if you want, obviously. Just… said you wish you knew how to do it the first time, right? So it wouldn’t be such a big deal?” You hesitantly nod, still not wanting to assume what he’s proposing until he explicitly says it.

“Yeah, so I figured we could have you practice? Make sure you know what you’re doing before you get out there,” he ends his sentence with a shrug, as if it’s the most nonchalant offer.

“What?” you desperately try to ignore the way your words shake slightly. “Like you’d teach me?” You can’t even help the incredulous tone your words are soaked in. You can hardly even fathom the idea of Frank Castle being the one to show you the ropes, much less actually acting those things out with him.

“Yeah? If that’s alright?” He smiles gently and you feel your body beginning to relax some. “Just… I saw how much it meant to you and I wanna help,” he explains further, and you swear you’ve never seen sincerity like the way it’s shining in his warm, brown eyes.

You swallow thickly as you think over his proposition. It feels like this is some sort of dream; you’re waiting for your alarm to ring out as your vision slowly fades, waking up in your bedroom alone. But no amount of pinching your skin will rip you from this moment. It feels too good to be true, but it’s happening regardless. He’s waiting on an answer and it’s honestly the best offer you could think of being handed to you on a silver platter.

“And hey, you absolutely don’t have to say—”

“Yes,” you finally decide. You can’t even believe you said it.

“You sure?” he asks again, his eyes flickering between your own. You think it’s sweet how he tries to make sure you’re certain of your decision. You smile widely as you nod at him, the butterflies returning to your stomach once again.

“Also, we don’t, like, have to have sex… just so you know. I know that’s a lot, but I can help with the stuff leading up to it?” You grin and nod again and Frank laughs lightly at your response. “Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable with it.”

“I am! I’m just excited, sorry,” you fidget with the hem of your shirt in an attempt to channel all the newfound energy elsewhere. Frank’s chuckle grows louder and you wonder if you imagined the soft “cute” that was muttered under his breath.

“So…” he speaks up and you turn to face him completely. “How would you feel about crossin’ something else off the list?” You nod immediately as all the nervousness from before switches to excitement while it courses through you.

“Okay…” he laughs softly at your quick reaction. “Let’s see,” he pauses for a moment as he thinks before his eyes light up with an idea. “You ever been kissed?” You feel the familiar shyness creeping up again, but you choose to push it back down. Instead, you just softly shake your head and watch as he nods in understanding.

“You want to try it?” he asks, his lips curling into a smirk. You hum an agreement and watch as he moves a bit closer to you on the couch. Once again you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this to be some sort of joke. But Frank only waits for you to take the initiative to close the space between the two of you.

Now that you’re facing each other on the couch, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you wait for him to make the first move. He smiles reassuringly before raising his hand and cradling the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your cheek as his long fingers curl around the back, holding you gently in place.

“You sure you want this?” he confirms. Again, you nod eagerly.

“I gotta hear you say it, sweetheart. That’s my rule,” he explains.

“Oh…” you whisper as you glance between his eyes and his lips, “yes.” You feel your heart swelling at the fact that he wants to make sure you truly want what he’s offering. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, muttering one last, “Okay,” before leaning forward.

The second his lips touch yours, you’re surprised at how soft they are. He’s gentle with his movements and softly sucks your lower lip between his own. It only takes a moment for you to kiss him back, careful to only mimic his actions and still let him lead. The kiss is warm and sweet and you feel the blood rushing through your cheeks and tingling down your neck. His thumb catches your bottom lip and pulls it down slowly, breaking the kiss. Frank breathes gently as he licks his lips, his eyes flickering between yours.

“How was that?” he asks, his breath fanning over your mouth as he speaks.

“It was good. I-I liked it,” you smile sheepishly, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to savor the feeling.

“Yeah?” he tilts his head as the question leaves his mouth, his eyes squinting as he glances from your eyes to your mouth. You once again nod before you even think to do it.

“Alright, now I wanna give you a real one.”

“A real one?” you pout and stare at him confusedly.

He only smirks before leaning forward again, pressing his lips to yours harder. This time, his palm guides your jaw to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss. The stubble lining his jaw scratches at your cheeks, and the prickling has you melting under his touch. You try your best to keep up, but his scent feels like it’s truly suffocating you now; you can hardly kiss him back with how overwhelmed you are. The next thing you register is the wet heat of his tongue brushing along your bottom lip, slowly tracing the shape before he pushes it inside your mouth. His tongue glides against your own and there's a small moan that escapes from your throat.

All too soon his lips leave yours and you open your eyes at the loss of contact. Frank’s own eyes are still shut and you watch as he clenches his jaw, almost as if he’s holding himself back from something.

“Are you okay?” you ask gently, worried you messed up somehow.

“Yeah… just, that was the sweetest god damn thing I’ve heard.” His voice is so deep it sends a shiver down your spine. Out of all the times you’ve dreamt of having your first kiss, you never thought it would’ve been that good. And to think, an impulse decision to watch a movie with him led you to this plan to gain experience. You find yourself already missing the feeling of his tongue, of the scratch that his stubble gave when he deepened the kiss.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he knocks your knee softly with his own, attempting to grab your attention. “You’re being too quiet.”

“I just, well, I wanna do it again,” you admit, looking away nervously. In one sudden motion Frank tugs you into his lap and you yelp as you wrap your arms around his neck. He laughs softly as he stares up at you but doesn’t waste a second before kissing you even quicker than before. There’s only a few chances you can take to catch your breath because he hardly breaks the kiss. You never thought someone as attractive as him would want to kiss you this much, but confidence rushes through your body as his affection continues.

Frank’s mouth begins to wander, his lips finding new space that had otherwise been untouched. The corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw—he never stops kissing you until he gets to your throat. From there, his lips part and he begins sucking on your neck. A shaky gasp leaves you as his teeth make purchase on your skin, softly biting before brushing his tongue over the mark.

“Done two new things,” he mutters, his lips moving around the words but never leaving your body. “How’s it feel?”

“I really like this,” you say breathlessly as you feel his teeth gently graze the sensitive skin of your neck. He hums into your throat, the vibration setting your skin alight before you finish your thought, “You can keep the beer though.”

Frank’s chuckle gets caught in his throat, resulting in the cutest snort you’ve ever heard. He presses soft kisses along your collarbone and looks up at you with sweet, brown eyes.

“Sure, kid, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fic #chelsea writes #I'M SO EXCITED GAH!

[strawhbrrries]

Lose Control, i.

pairing: tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: you learn your tattoo artist, who also happens to be the person you love the most, is equally as in love with you but you can't deal with the repercussions of his past.

warnings: female pronouns, mentions of female masturbation, , mutual pining but they're both idiots, , tattooed frank with long hair!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1k words

authors note: i would like to thank teddy swims for the muse to write again, please enjoy!

song to listen to while reading: lose control by teddy swims

find the masterlist here! read the next part here!

The sun peeked through the curtains, illuminating the chest of the man in the bed next to you. His face was turned away from you, but you knew from the way he was sleeping and the scent on your pillow exactly who it was. Frank Castle. You didn’t remember much about last night but you did remember you had places to be, and so did he.

“Frankie, wake up.” You shook him gently, smiling softly at the hairs plastered to his forehead and the smile he always adorned when he realized it was you. 

“What time is it?” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly, reaching around the end table for his phone. 

“Late, c’mon we gotta go.” 

You threw his shirt at him, hurriedly putting your own clothes on to make it to lunch with your mom on time. If it was up to her, she’d have invited Frank too, but it wasn’t. She pointed out one time that most friends don’t sleep in a bed together five days out of the week when they both have places to live, and every time you woke up next to him it was the only thing on your mind. 

Frank was an attractive man, anyone with eyes could see that, and the what if was always there. But, he had a reputation. As did many other tattoo artists who were too attractive for their own good. You refused to be another notch in his belt, a one and done, someone he’d forget the second he came. In order for any of those things to be true, he had to be playing the long game, and you weren’t going to find out. No matter how many times you woke up with damp underwear from wet dreams of him, or the amount of times you caught yourself squeezing your thighs together when he was around.

“Where’s Frankie?” Was the first thing your mom asked when you arrived at the small cafe she had picked for lunch, you were convinced she’d rather have him as a child than you.

“He wasn’t invited to our mother-daughter lunch, momma.” You rolled your eyes playfully, giving her a warm hug and sitting opposite of her.

“Did he sleep with you?” She asked, nonchalantly, no doubt just trying to pry and see if you’d given in to his advances yet.

“Yes, and no we did not have sex. Premarital sex is a sin, momma.” 

“You’re the phoneist christian I've ever met. I just don’t get it, both of you have feelings for each other. Just go out?” She took a sip of the tea in front of her, never breaking eye contact with you as you considered her words.

“You must hate me, I’m not getting my heart broken by some guy who could have any woman he wanted.” You shrugged, playing with the straw in the drink she had ordered for you.

“Men who plan on breaking a woman’s heart don’t typically live with them, or have relationships with their parents, or give them free expensive tattoos, or take them to the hospital when they’re too stubborn to go. I could keep going, honey.” 

A part of you knew she was right, but the other, much bigger, part of you couldn’t help but let go of the anxiety that played in the back of your mind every time the thought of dating him came up. You’d rather shoot yourself in the foot than trust a man, even if this one had never done anything to make you doubt him or his words. 

Frank Castle was one of the sweetest men you’d ever met, even if he looked big, bad and scary. He was covered in tattoos, head to toe, that he’d done probably seventy-five percent of, but you felt so incredibly safe with him. He was the one to take you to the hospital when your appendix burst and you swore it was just really bad pms, he argued that he’d been there for enough of your periods to know it wasn’t pms and you argued back that you lived through more periods than he had. He didn’t record you when you were high off the anesthesia because he knew your  biggest fear was saying something you would regret and then everyone seeing it.

He was the sweetest man you’d ever met.

But the reputation he accumulated before the two of you met haunted him every day, he’d take it all back if he could. If it would convince you that giving him a chance was worth the risk, to just know for sure you craved him how he craved you. He gladly took the slivers of your life that you allowed him to have, seared them in the back of his mind and vowed to never forget just in case you took it all away. 

Three years ago you sat in his chair, nervous and unable to make eye contact with him, for your very first tattoo. Now you were littered in tattoos, all done by him, and he couldn’t be prouder. It was his own personal way of marking what was his, and it seemed to work because you hadn’t had a boyfriend since you met him. Frank beams with pride when he tells everyone you had a boyfriend at your first appointment and then showed up to your next one single, he tells everyone it was because of his ‘devilishly good looks’ but the thing he doesn’t know? He was right.

You left that appointment wetter than you’d ever been in your life, you’d had a boyfriend for a year and a half and he never even got you a fraction that turned on. You took the coldest shower of your life, trying to rid yourself of the impure thoughts of him only to fail and spend the rest of your shower desperately chasing a high you knew he’d be able to give you. You broke up with your boyfriend that same night.

#frank castle #jon bernthal #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #the punisher #frank castle smut #maddies fics #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fluff #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal fic #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal x you #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #the punisher fanfiction

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Frank Castle X Reader: Bloody savior

Explicit content ahead (mdni)

Warning: Shower sex, breeding kink (lightly), smut, kissing, creampie, penetration (p in v), size difference, mentions of masturbation, sexual fantasies, use of 'sir', description of killing, blood, death, fighting, use of weapons, cruising.

Summary: Frank got caught and you came to the rescue. When getting cleaned up smut ensues

Word count: 4K

You had this look in your eyes. A manic kind of look. Like a hungry animal who’d just caught a whiff of blood for the first time in weeks. Castle knew that look. He was familiar with it. He had it when he’d been in Afghanistan and he’d brought it back home with him. He could put it away, ignore the hunger for a while but whether he liked it or not it was always there in the back of his mind. In Frank the hunger was fueled by revenge. Ever since what happened with his family it seemed that the hunger had become insatiable. He’d learned to live with it. Learned to control it. But every once in a while it’d break free and hell would break loose. You’d come into Frank's life as a pleasant surprise, an ally, a friend and eventually a partner. You were different in various aspects but the thing that tied you to each other was your desire to make things right. Whatever it took. You didn’t have training like Frank, you’d never served but you knew your way around a gun. Your dad had made sure of that.  Because of this you knew how to keep up with Castle. Knew how to clean your weapons, keep them nice and polished but most importantly you knew how to use them when the time came. You were a hell of a good shot, not better than Frank but then again few were more capable at warfare then him. He lived off it, thrived in the chaos. You only chose violence when there was no other way. 

They had left you with no other choice. 

The minute Frank didn’t  return from his stakeout you knew something was wrong. Knew they got to him somehow. Nearly no one knew he was alive and the ones who did were set on making sure he wouldn’t see another day. That meant you were his only chance, and by god were you going to make sure you got him out alive. 

With Lebiermans help you managed to find Frank's possible location and made your way to it. Once you surveyed the area, taking note of possible exits in the building. You managed to sneak into the second floor deck moving quickly as you tried to pinpoint where they were keeping Frank. You had expected them to be holding somewhere underground, that would have been the smart choice, but to your surprise they had him in one of the upper bedrooms, the one with a bigass window. It was too risky to simply break the glass and jump in. The noise would attract to much unwanted attention and by what you had managed to see Frank seemed to be passed out in the chair he’d been tied to.YOu wondered how these fools had gotten a jump on Frank when you remembered he’d been injured in your last mission and hadn’t had the proper time to heal completely. 

Fucking cowards. 

You gritted your teeth as you tried to figure out a way into the room that would make you have to deal with too many people. Just as you were about to make a move the door to the room opened. You ducked down, getting into a position that allowed you to see what was happening while at the same time not letting yourself be seen. You watched as a large man made his way towards Frank, followed by two buff men carrying guns.  The large man, who you believed to be the leader of the gang, got to Frank and slapped him hard in the face. Frank flinched awake, his body moving against his restraints. You couldn’t hear what they were saying through the glass but it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on. They were trying to pull information out of Frank but he wasn’t talking. You watched Frank's features seeing them twist into his signature snarl. You hesitated for a moment, maybe it would be best to let Frank handle these three by himself and once the rest came in you’d make your entrance. The thought was gone in a matter of seconds. The leader had pulled out a knife cutting the once almost healed wound in Frank's shoulder. Frank's face scrunched up in pain, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Even as blood gushed down Frank's arm he refused to talk. Clearly annoyed by the lack of answers the gang leader began punching Frank. He kept hitting Frank with everything he had. The grip on your weapon tightened. You were going to make them pay for this.

Frank was used to pain. He’d learned to live with it. Even so the blood he was losing was making his head spin and the constante plowing he was receiving was causing his brain to hurt. He should be trying to get out of his chains. Should be trying to grab the knife on his enemy's hip but he couldn’t get himself to move. For a moment he wondered if this was it. After everything he was going to die in some shit house because of some idiot gang. Just as he’d begun to accept that maybe this was the end he heard shooting outside. His attacker's punch stopped in the middle of the air, his head turning towards the sound of guns firing.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“I think someone broke in, boss.”

“That’s impossible.”

The noise of bullets was exchanged by the sound of screams. It kept growing closer. The sound of bodies falling to the ground becoming more and more consistante. Frank saw the fear in the eye of the three men before him.

“You two watch the door and don't let anyone come in until I'm done with this one.”

Frank watched as the boss turned to face him, his fist rising in the air once more when silence overtook the room. These fools had no idea what that meant. In their head the quiet meant it was over. It lulled them into a false sense of security. Made them think that they were safe. Frank knew what it meant though. It was your signature move. Make the enemy think he’d won and once they let their guard down you atack. Frank couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re dead.”

The three men turned to face him, the unexpected tranquility being replaced by fear.

“Big talk for someone strapped to a chair.”

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

The moment the words left his mouth the door of the room blew off its hinges.

You wasted no time the second your eyes caught onto one of them you ponced. You latched onto one of the men slitting his throat with ease. The other lackey started to fire at you but his gun jammed. You looked at him, a smile gracing your features as you raced toward him pushing him into the wall before head bumping him and sticking your blade into his neck. His body slumped to the ground, blood gushing from his wound as you pushed your knife deeper. You snapped your head in Frank's direction, eyes falling on the boss. He was a big man. Larger than you but he was unarmed and you were fueled by an abnormal amount of adrenaline. You could take him. You moved like a cat, twisting your blade in your palm as you waited for your prey to move. You glanced at Frank upon noticing how beat up he looked your shoulders sagged a bit. Your pity quickly turned to rage, a scream leaving your lips as you charged at the larger man. He grabbed you with ease pushing you against a wall and hitting you in the chest. You went to move your hand to stab him in the stomach but he grabbed your arm before you could get a good angle. He hit your hand against the wall causing you to release your weapon. You bit into your lip to the point that it drew blood. You had been backed into a corner and you hated the feeling. 

“Not so tough now hum?”

You spit onto the man's face watching anger appear on his face.

“You little bitch.”

His hands wound around your throat cutting off your ability to breath. YOu kicked at his legs trying to get him off you. Frank struggled against his chains as he tried to get to you.

“Hey! Let her go, she's got nothing to do with this!”

“Ah you like this one do you Frank?”

“Just let her go and I'll tell you what you want.”

“She killed my men. No way I'm letting her live.”

Your face was starting to turn red due to the lack of air but you kept fighting against the man's grip. You placed your hands against his stomach trying to push him off. Your hand skimmed at the handle of the knife near his hip, fingers trying to grab it while you could. You looked at Frank trying to tell him your plan without speaking. He got the message giving you a nod as he started talking, just spewing random shit out of his mouth to distract your attacker. When Frank mentioned the man's family his hands slacked ever so slightly allowing you to get a grip on his weapon. Before he could even notice what had happened you stabbed him in the stomach. He turned to look at you, his face contorting in pain as he stumbled away from you. You fell to the ground gasping for air. You couldn’t hear anything anymore except for the dull thud of your heartbeat. You rose from the ground charging at the man once more. Since he was hurt you managed to knock him down much easier then last time. YOu straddled his hips, filling your eyes as you stared down at the man. YOu raised your hand and stabbed him in the neck. You repeated the action over and over again, a scream leaving your throat with every stab. You knew he was dead. Could see the lack of life in his eyes but you couldn't stop yourself from plunging your blade into his body. Frank called out your name causing you to look at him. He took in your appearance. You were covered in blood. Your hair had turned red due to the amount that covered you. When he looked at your eyes he wasn't greeted by their usual warmth. You were looking at him like a rabid animal, your hands latched onto your weapon for dear life.

“It’s over. He’s dead.”

You glanced at the man beneath you before turning to look back at Frank. When your eyes fell on Frank's face they softened a bit. You rose from where you were making your way to Frank. He watched you come to him, his body relaxing once he realized you’d weren’t looking at him like he was a piece of meat anymore. You kneeled in front of him picking the locks on his chain before looking up at him. You placed a hand on his face. Frank watched you look up at him with your eyes full of love before falling onto the blood on your hand. Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself seeing the damage you’d caused for the first time. You moved your hand away from Frank trying to scrub the blood of your palms despair gracing your features as you failed to remove the red tint. Frank could tell you were starting to panic. You weren’t used to this much killing, especially not by yourself.

“Hey it’s okay. Look at me. 

You looked at Frank with lost eyes. It seemed like you’d just woken up from a daze. Frank got up from his chair pulling you off the ground before wrapping you in his embrace.

“Shhh it’s alright. It’s over. Let's go home.” 

You stumbled into your apartment removing your boots before making your way to the bathroom. Frank followed behind grabbing a towel on the way. You sat on top of the toilet  as Frank turned on the water to fill up the tub. You stripped your clothes, throwing them in a plastic bag before sinking into the warm water. Frank kneeled down soaking a sponge in the water and beginning to clean you up. You let him do what he needed sitting still as he washed the blood off your body. Perhaps it should have been weird, this was the first time he was seeing you naked yet for some reason this felt normal. 

“How’s your arm?”

“It will heal.”

“It was almost healed already.”

Frank heard the anger in your tone. He looked up at your face, finding you staring at his bare shoulder. There was a twinge of guilt in your expression. 

“Hey. This is not your fault.”

“I should have been quicker. Should have broken the window and just jumped in. Dragged you outside.”

“Would have called too much attention.”

“Right cause killing all of them won’t.”

“They were drug dealers and gangsters. No one will care, trust me I know.”

You closed your eyes, sighing  as Frank moved the sponge against your back. He watched as your shoulders sagged, finally calming down. You’d gone bat shit back there because they had hurt him. Frank didn’t have a lot of people who would risk themselves like that for him. He appreciated it.

“You’re gonna need to turn on the shower to wash your hair. There is too much blood.”

Frank got up to leave but you grabbed his wrist. He turned to look down at you. 

“You need a shower too.”

“Once you’re done I'll clean up.”

“We could share.”

Frank's breath hitched at the sound of your voice.

“You sure you’d be comfortable with that?”

You let out a laugh.

“Ever the gentleman Frank.”

You rose out of the water crossing your arms in front of your bare chest. Frank's eyes never left your face but he wouldn’t lie that he was tempted.

“I’m covered in the blood of people I killed for you. Pretty sure I can handle seeing you naked.”

You grinned at Frank's shocked expression. You always did like making him flustered. Frank mulled it over in his head for a moment before beginning to remove his clothes. His arm burned as he tried to remove his shirt.

“Here let me help.”

You stepped out of the tub moving closer to Frank so that you could reach the edge of his shirt.

“Raise your arms.”

Frank did what you asked, allowing you to remove his bloodied shirt from his body. A small gasp left your lips when your eyes fell onto the new wound fingers moving over it softly.

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches but we might have to bandage you up.”

“Okay.”

“Need help with your pants too?”

“Nah i got them. You can turn on the water.”

You nodded, turning around to face the shower. The shower head sprang to life in a matter of seconds. You put out your hand to see if the temperature was good.

“I think it's warm eno-”

The words died on your lips as you looked at Frank's naked frame. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen him without his shirt before and the way he was built didn’t leave much to the imagination but good lord he was big. Frank flushed under your gaze, his eyes running over your body as you stared at him.

“Like what you see?”

Your eyes snapped up to Frank's face, a blush growing in your cheeks once you realized he saw you checking him out. 

“I know I do.”

Ah fuck, why did he have to sound like that? Mustering all of your self restraint you moved into the shower glancing as Frank as you threw your head back under the water. 

“You gonna stare or you gonna join me?”

Frank let out a grin moving to get into the shower. Once he was inside he pulled the curtain close, blocking out the outside world. The two of you stared at each other for a while trying to figure out how to go about this. You made the first move, pulling Frank's hand with your and placing it on your hip.

“You’re too far away. The water is not even getting on you.”

“That’s why you want me closer? So the water gets to me?”

There was a playful tone in Frank's voice causing you to relax a bit.

“It doesn't make kissing you much easier either.”

“Oh well if you wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.”

Frank leaned down, closing the distance between your lips. It started off soft. The two of you explored the feeling of each other's lips but soon things got more intense. You bite into Frank's lips making him groan against your lips, his hands pulling you closer to him. Your breasts came in contact with his chest, nipples running against his skin and making you whimper against him. Frank loved the sounds coming out of you. It’d been a while since he’d had sex. He’d forgotten how good it was to hear the sound of someone's pleasure. You pulled away from Frank, ignoring him pout as you turned around. You pushed your ass up against Frank's dick listening to him groan as you rubbed yourself against him. His hands made their way to your hips guiding your movements.

“Shit. There you go, attagirl.”

You pushed your hands off the wall, your back making contact with Frank's chest as you pulled his hands away from your hip and guided them to cup your breast. He leaned down to kiss your neck, his fingers playing with your nipples as he rutted against you. You moaned at the feeling of his hard dick on your ass.

“I need you Frank, please.”

“Are you sure you're wet enough?”

You almost laughed at the question. You knew he meant if your pussy was wet anough but considering he was about to fuck you in the shower it was a funny thing to ask.

“Let me show you.”

You dragged one of his hands to your folds, allowing him to feel how wet you were. He let out a growl as he pushed a digit into your cunt.

“Dirty girl.”

“This is the cleanest I've been all afternoon, Frank.”

He laughed at your words moving to grab your chin.

“You and that mouth of yours.”

“I bet you love my mouth.”

“Oh I do.”

“You imagine it much? Me going down on you, I mean.”

The truth is that he did. Whenever he couldn’t sleep at night and the books didn’t help he’d close his eyes and think of you. It started off innocently: the sound of your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you were angry with him, the sound of your voice when you called his name. But soon those images turned into you on your knees before him gaging as you tried to take all of him in your mouth. Whenever the two of you slept near each other he feared he’d have a wet dream about you and ruin everything.

“I do.”

Frank had been so focused on remembering that he’d forgotten to answer you. You didn’t mind though your head leaned back on his chest as you talked.

“Evrytime you come back from a mission I get turned on. I don’t know what it is but something about the way you walk in. Chest puffed out hands bundled into fists. Something about this glow you get after a mission. It makes you, like, ten times hotter than average. Which is saying a lot because you're pretty damn hot.”

Frank placed another finger inside your cunt moving them in and out slowly. You gasped, mouth falling open at the feeling.

“What do I do? When you imagen me.”

“Ah-shit-uh loads of stuff. Sometimes you finger me until I can't talk. Or you’ll go down on me for hours. My favorites when you fuck me though. I imagen you let out the prettiest fucking sounds.”

“Ah fuck baby. Why’s that?”

“You moan when you’re in pain. I bet the sounds you make when you feel good are just as loud.”

“You wanna find out?”

“Please Frank. I’m ready, fill me up.”

Frank flipped you around, backing you up against the wall before pulling your leg to the side. He hesitated for a moment worried that he’d hurt you. You were smaller than him by a bit and from this angle you look smaller than normal.

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank met your gaze. You pulled him in for a kiss resting your forehead against his.

“You’d never hurt me. I trust you Frank. Go ahead.”

“If you need me to stop or slow down you tell me okay?”

“Okay.”

Frank groaned as he pushed his head into your cunt. You threw your head back, hands latching onto Frank's shoulders as he pushed in. Frank groaned against you taking deep breaths as he felt your pussy clench around him.

“You keep doing that, I'll cum.”

“Isn't that-ugh-the point.”

“I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Don’t worry we have time for another round if we need it.”

The idea of this becoming a regular occurrence did something to Frank's head. He plunged the rest of his dick into you, his hands keeping you still as you moaned in ecstasy.

“Tell me when to move.”

“Move Frank! For the love of god move.”

Frank started thrusting into you with a force you’d only seen him use when he was in a fight. Your nails dug into Frank's skin so harshly you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. You were right about Frank being vocal. He was groaning and whimpering against your neck as he thrusted against you which only made you wetter.

“Frank, I'm gonna cum.”

“Just a bit more, hold it a little okay? Think you can do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Attagirl.”

Frank's speed got faster, his hand releasing your hip as he made his way to your pussy, his finger finding your clit as he continued his movements.

“Come on baby come on.”

“Ah shit-ugh.”

“Let go baby let go.”

Frank gave a particularly rough thrust and you were seeing stars. You screamed out Frank's name as you came your head leaning against his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“Attagirl.”

YOu could tell Frank was close by the way his dick twitched inside you. You placed your hand against his cheek placing a kiss on his lips.

“Fill me up Frank come on. Fill me up with your cum.”

“You on the-”

“No, want you to fill me up. Want you to breed me.”

It was a shot in the dark. You weren’t sure if this would kill the mood or not. Franks family was an odd topic but something told you that he liked the idea of fucking his cum into someone until it took. You were glad you took the risk because right as you uttered the words Frank started cumming. As you felt his cum going down your thighs you felt kind of bad for lying to him about not being on the pill. You knew he’d understand though. The life you lead had no space for children. Frank knew that well.

Frank pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden lack of his presence inside you. He leaned down pulling your chin up so he could kiss you. His hands weaved inside your hair making him remember why you’d gotten into the shower in the first place.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle #punisher mcu #punisher smut #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher smut #the punisher #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #mcu