#BeardthalBash

[kwistowee]

#thicc Beardthal Bash 2023 THE PUNISHER | 1.01

[darlingshane]

Jon Bernthal as Matt in WIND RIVER (2017) for ✨BEARDTHAL BASH✨

[chellestrash]

Growing Older

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Just a little fun thing, teasing, playing with Frank's beard, brat behavior.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of, suggested smut, reader being a brat, teasing, banter, strong language

A/N: A little piece for day one of the @bernthirst-events Beardthalbash! I don't usually write for bearded Frank so I'm excited to finally have something for everyone who enjoys that version of him the most.

“That okay?”

Frank clears his throat, chin pressed against his chest when he glances down, watching as you get comfortable in bed, resting your head on top of his chest.

“Mhmmm.”

You mumble quietly, a small smile while you push your face against his body. Your eyes shut for a moment before you finally turn to look up at him.

“Yeah?”

His fingers brush over your exposed back as a follow-up to the question, and you hum quietly at the gentle touch.

“Yeaaah.”

Pulling yourself up slightly, you brush the side of his neck with the tip of your nose. His body warm against yours, his touch comforting as always, his heartbeat loud under your chest.

It takes you a moment to open your eyes again before you wrap your arms around his neck. A loud moan slips past your lips as you stretch on top of his body and his hips buck up slightly at the sound.

“Really, Castle?!"

You tease with your eyes now wide open, and he scoffs. Looking off to the side, he shakes his head before turning to face you again.

“Don't get cocky.”

He warns jokingly, and you smirk at the words, pushing your ass up a bit before grinding down against the bulge between his legs.

“Or?”

“Or you're gonna find out.”

Rolling your eyes, you discard his failed imitation tactics and repeat the movement, pushing the bridge of your nose into his neck before brushing your lips gently over the skin. Frank grunts, moving his hands down your back before you speak up again.

“Really, Frankie? That's the best you got, hmm?”

Your tone slightly lowers now as you trail small, innocent at first, kisses up the side of his neck before nipping the skin with your teeth. With a huff, Franks moves his hands up and down the back of your thighs, tightening the grip right under your ass, holding you in place.

You breathe out a short laugh, pressing your lips higher and higher up his neck before he lifts his head up, inviting you to continue.

"Oh, thank you, Frankie, that's so sweet."

You mumble in a mocking tone and he attempts to protest, but the sensation of your lips against the side of his jaw successfully distracts him from any further discussion.

His hips rock underneath you, and you push your core into the bulge. With a sly smirk, you watch as his lips part and his mouth falls open. Your eyes scan every inch of his face when, suddenly, you spot something.

“Oh, shit.”

Within a second, both of you freeze completely. The tone of the moment slips through his fingers as Frank attempts to decipher what caused your sudden reaction. 

“What?” 

He glances down quickly, but you push his face to the side. Keeping your hand on his cheek, you hold the man in place. Pushing yourself up, you move closer to his face, inspecting his jaw.

“What is it?”

Confused, he repeats the question, making an effort to turn his head back to face you, but you hold him down in place one more time.

“Shut up.”

“Will you just-”

He starts again, but you ignore his attempts to put together a full sentence and quickly sit up on the bed next to him. You lean down and with your eyebrows pulled together in a concentrated expression, you push some of the beard hairs to the side, focusing on one tiny spot on the side of his jaw.

“Damn.”

You mumble, and Frank decides that's enough. Turning his face to look at you now, he demands answers.

“Will you tell me what the fuck it is or-”

It's already too late, you've decided what to do and nothing this man could do would stop you now. In one swift motion, you pinch the side of his face before quickly pulling your hand back. 

"God damn it!"

Frank covers the area with his big palm, eyes open wide, the look of absolute and utter confusion on his face.

"What the-"

He starts, but you cut him off.

“Gray hair.”

You explain with the most nonchalant demeanor you could possibly pull off right now, holding up the small gray hair like a trophy, presenting it to its owner with an expression full of pride. 

“You had a gray hair.”

It takes him a couple seconds to respond, and he does it in the most Frank Castle way possible.

“Right.”

Pushing your face off to the side and down onto the bed, he shoves your head into the pillow before he moves over to the side of the bed and stands up. 

“Fuck you.”

“WHAT?!” 

You ask, giving up on any attempt to not burst out laughing. 

“It's not like I’m making it up! Look!"

You lift your hand up, proudly presenting the hair once again.

“Yeah, okay, you keep that.”

“Yeah?!”

“Be my fucking guest, sweetheart.” 

You scoff, turning to lay on your back again when he walks towards the door to leave the bedroom.

“Okay, so, let’s see.”

You start, and he frowns, turning back to check what you’re going to do this time. 

Lifting your hand up in front of your face, you begin to count on your fingers. 

“So... you talk like an old man, you act like one?”

He scoffs, shaking his head and glaring back at you, unimpressed. 

“Now you’re gonna start looking like one?! ...Damn, that's kinda fucked.”

“Okay smartass. That's enough.”

Frank speaks up, taking a step towards the bed. His eyebrow rises slightly, his words firm, his voice sharper than before. Silence fills the room for a moment, but only a moment. With a loud, theatrical sound, you continue.

“Frank, you're gonna get all greeey and wrinkly and oh my god, your whole beard, your HAIR?! Jeeeesus you're gonna look so old-”

And with that, he's had enough. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, Frank yanks your body toward the end of the bed, leaning over you in a, what you assume he thought was, threatening way, before he spits out a question.

“You done now?”

Your jaw drops with the sudden, unexpected motion, but the bratty smile quickly finds its way back onto your face.

“What do you think, Old Man?”

In that moment, you knew if looks could kill, you'd be dead.

“You just can't keep your mouth shut, huh?"

"Why don't you make me."

He scoffs loudly, shaking his head at your tone.

"Yeah, okay."

***

With tears rolling down your cheeks and your thighs shaking as you do your best to push your legs together, panting, you roll onto your back and watch him for a second. Standing next to the bed, Frank tucks his cock back into his boxers and pulls his jeans back. He clears his throat loudly and crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow raised as if he's expecting an apology, like he really thinks you'll give him that. 

“Oh so-”

You draw in a deep breath, attempting to calm the loud panting as you push yourself up to look at him.

“So, I guess you fuck like an old man too?”

He scoffs, louder than before. Looking off to the side with a satisfied smile, he shakes his head before turning back to face you. 

“Yeah, okay.”

He glances down, just in time to catch the way your muscles spasm at the memory of what just happened. 

“Guess we'll talk about it when your legs stop shaking, sweetheart,"

[joybabyjune]

Unexpected Snow

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Summery: When you try to hide from a heavy snowstorm in a motel, you find out that all the rooms are taken. Frank offers you his room, but you can’t let him sleep in his truck. You get him into your room and into your bed 👀

Warnings: explicit (minors dni!!!), big age gap (reader is 21, Frank in in his late 40’s), pet names (Sweetheart, sweet girl, good girl, pretty girl), no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, harassment (not from Frank), smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected piv (be smart friendsss), little bit of praise kink, little bit of degradation kink, dirty talk, creampie.

Author’s note: alright I really wanted to participate in the Beardthalbash thing. So I wrote this. I hope you guys like it. If you do, please let me know with a note and if you really like it, please reblog. You’ll make my day and it’s completely freeee.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language + I kind of wrote this pretty quickly because of the Beardthalbash deadline. Don’t hate me for any mistakes ✌🏼

Masterlist

“Why?!” You yell out angrily, slamming your steering wheel and accidentally pressing the horn. “Oh shit..” You sink lower into your seat and wave a little apology at the car beside you. The lady on the radio continues talking. She goes on about the upcoming snowstorm and you really start to realize that you won’t make it to your destination. “Why today..” You whine to yourself.

After living with your alcoholic mother, and all the different men she brought in your life over the years, you finally decided that it was time for you to leave. You packed your bags, got into your car, closed your eyes and pointed your finger somewhere on your map to pick a location for you to start a new life.

You’ve been driving for a few hours now and the weather is getting worse and worse. You can feel your car struggling against the wind and the road surface slowly turns white with the snow that’s falling. Your wipers are working overtime and the windows fog over. “Fucking hell.” You mutter and turn off the radio, you’re done with the slight tone of panic in the weather reporter’s voice.

A few miles ago you saw a sign that said there was a motel nearby and you sigh in relieve when you see the exit towards it. “Lets just hope this only lasts ‘till the morning..” You say as you drive onto the parking lot. It is fully packed, but you find a spot. It’s not exactly near the entrance, but you take it. You get out of the car and are immediately hit by a gust of snowy wind. You run over to the reception and quickly get inside.

There’s a line of people, all trying to get a room and you quietly join the queue. It doesn’t take long before it’s your turn and you reach into your bag for your money. “One single room please..” You say while you look.

“I’m sorry ma’am but we’re fully booked for the night.” The lady behind the counter tells you. “There’s another motel a couple of miles away. If you want, I can call them to see if they still have a room?”

“W-what?” You ask frowning. You look out of the window, the weather has gotten even worse and there’s no way you can safely drive any further. “You have nothing?” You ask, slightly panicking.

“I’m afraid so..” She answers.

“Can stay with me, pretty thing..” You hear a voice drawl behind you. You turn around and see a man smirking at you. You take in his appearance and your stomach turns at the idea of having to sleep with him to have a place to stay. He must be in his sixties, his blonde-grayish hair sticks to his forehead and his mustache turned yellow under his nose due to years of smoking. There’s stains on the flannel that’s way to tight around his beer belly. “Got room for you in my bed, I mean..” He adds as his watery eyes glide over your body.

“N-no thank you.” You say nervously, deciding that it’s not worth it.

“Oh come on, Princess, can’t go out in weather like that..” He says nodding towards the window. He walks closer to you and you’re overwhelmed by the smell of sweat, stale beer and ashtray. It brings you back to all the times your mother’s boyfriends would try to get handsy with you. “Promise I’m not a serial killer.” He says laughing and displaying his yellow teeth.

“N-no, I’m good, really..” You say again and he reaches out to touch your face but you back away.

“She said no, asshole.” A voice behind you barks. You turn around and see a big, attractive looking man. Dark hair, dark eyes, well groomed beard. He radiates danger, but for some reason he makes you feel safe. “Leave her alone.”

“And who the fuck are you?” The creep asks him. “Who are you to decide what I should do. Keep it to yourself and let me have my fun with this one.” He adds and tries to reach out for your waist this time.

Your savior grabs his wrist and turns it, making him cry out in pain. “Go to your room and leave the girl alone.” He says, his voice a whispered growl.

“Ah ah ah, okey okey!” He says trying to free his arm. Once he succeeds he holds up his hands. “Alright. She’s all yours man. Not worth the fucking trouble.” He says, looking you up and down as he walks away.

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling dirty with how looked at you and spoke about you. “Thanks..” You say looking at the floor.

“Here. Take my room.” He says and hands you a key.

You frown. “W-what? But where are you gonna-“

“Slept in worse conditions. I’ll be fine.” He says. “Take the keys, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.” You say looking up at him. Not really sure why it bothers you.

He huffs a laugh and smirks a little at your stubbornness. “Just take the keys and be safe, okey?”

“We can-“ You start. “We can share the room.” You say taking in his appearance and not minding his company.. “I’m not comfortable with letting you drive in this weather either.”

“I’m not driving, I’ll just crash in my truck.” He says. “I’ll be okey ki-, sweetheart. Trust me.”

You smile a little at how he caught himself when he was gonna call you kid again. “But-“

“Go.” He presses. “Get your stuff before the weather gets even worse and I’m not even gonna let you get back to your car.” He smirks teasingly.

“O-okey, thanks a lot, ehh..”

“Frank.”

“Thanks a lot, Frank.” You smile and take the keys from him, quickly shoving a fifty dollar bill in his hand for the costs of the room.

“You don’t need t-“ He starts, looking at the money.

“You will take it.” You cut him off and you quickly walk away before he can say something else.

You hold your hands above your head to shield you from the snow while you run to your car. It does absolutely nothing to protect you, but there’s not really a better option available at the moment.

Luckily you fit al your belongings in a single suitcase and a backpack, so you don’t have to haul a lot of luggage. You grab your stuff and run as best as you can towards the rooms. The wheels on your cheap suitcase have trouble with the speed and the think layer of snow that has formed on the floor. You quickly look at the worn leather tag that’s attached to the key. “23..” You mutter the room number. The room in front of you has a big 18 on the door. You follow the wall to your left. “19.. 20.. 21..” You mutter to yourself as you pass the doors. The sound of a car door slamming closed catches your attention and you look over to the parking lot. It’s the guy who gave you his room. Frank. You squint your eyes to look inside his truck and see how he’s wrapped himself in a blanket. You bite your lip, feeling guilty and hold up your hand in a mixture of greeting, thanking and apologizing. He waves back and juts his chin in the direction of your room, telling you without words, to go inside.

You rush inside and look around. It’s a bit dated with the terrible green and orange wallpaper and worn out wooden furniture, but it’s nice and warm which is the only important thing for the night. You look around, but there’s not much to see. A bed, a tv, a desk with a chair and thank god, a minibar. You open the door to the bathroom, and peer inside. “Fucking hell..” You laugh through your nose when you see the puke green shower cabin. “Who would choose that..?”

You decide that going to bed early will make it feel like the time goes faster so that you can hopefully be on your way again before you know it. You fish some clean underwear and a big t-shirt from your suitcase to sleep in and head into the bathroom for a shower.

The hot water feels good on your skin and it’s the first time today that you relax a little bit. Your mind drifts to Frank in his truck and you really feel guilty. He helped you out big time and now he’s out there in the cold. You figure you could at least invite him in for a beer or something. If he really doesn’t want to share the room, he can always go back to his truck after that. You turn off the shower and quickly dry and dress yourself.

You peek through the curtains and see that he’s still awake, reading some book. You bite your lip and wave to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice you. “Fuck..” You mutter to yourself and move to open the door. “Frank!” You yell, shivering from the cold. Goosebumps forming on your bare legs. “Frank!”

He looks up and his eyes widen. He rolls down his window. “What the hell are you doing?!” He yells. “Go inside!”

“Come in here!” You yell back. “Warm up a bit, h-have a beer, take a sh-shower, whatever.. Y-you can go back to sleep in your truck after, j-just come in for a while.” You say shivering. “W-won’t take no f-for an answer.”

“Fucking hell..” He curses, wiping a hand over his face in annoyance and quickly gets from the car. “Alright, alright. Just go inside!” He says while he grabs a duffel bag from the backseat.

You smile to yourself, happy to get what you want and you quickly get inside, leaving the door open for him.

“What’s wrong with you.” He growls when he gets inside and quickly closes the door behind him.

“Felt guilty.” You answer shrugging as you sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Gotta be more careful with people if you’re gonna be traveling alone, little girl.” He says and drops his bag on the floor. “Don’t even know me.”

You pout a little, knowing that he’s right. “You gave me your room instead of offering to share like that creep.” You justify your actions. “Guess that makes you a good man, right?”

He huffs as if he doesn’t really agree with you.

“So…” You say skeptically. “Are you like.. Gonna kill me or something?”

He laughs quietly. “No, Sweetheart, you’re good.”

“Good. And I won’t kill you, so that’s settled then.” You say. “And I’m not a little girl by the way, I’m 21.”

He laughs. “Alright, I’m sorry.” He says holding up his hands in a mock excuse.

“There’s towels in the bathroom.” You say while you get up to look in the mini fridge. “The water is nice. And here..” You say when you open the fridge. “Here we have some beers, some nuts and some chocolates.”

“You don’t have to do this.” He says. “I’m fine in my truck.”

“Stop it. I’m not letting you stay out there.” You say, leaving no room for discussion.

“Alright.” He says, rubbing his neck. He grabs his bag and takes some clothes out to bring into the bathroom.

You grab yourself a beer and lie down on the lumpy bed. “Let’s see what the weather is gonna do..” You mutter to yourself while turning on the tv.

“Conditions are getting worse and worse outside and it does not look like this storm is going to settle anytime soon. Specialists are calling it the worst snow storm in years. You’re advised to stay inside and-“ The weather lady gets cut off by a shirtless Frank who opens the bathroom door.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of his ripped body, he slicks his wet hair back and water drips from his beard onto his chest. You rasp your throat and look away. “‘M sorry, didn’t think to bring one to the bathroom.” He says as he grabs a tank top and pulls it over his head.

You’re suddenly very aware of your lack of pants. Sure the t-shirt you’re wearing is big enough to be called a dress, but it still only reaches your mid thigh. “I can, eh, I can put on pants if you-“

“Don’t worry about it.” He says while taking a beer from the fridge. He grabs the chair, sitting down on it with his legs spread. “‘S your room, should wear what you want, right.”

You nod towards the tv, changing the subject of your clothing, or the lack thereof, to the weather reporter. “Says it might be the worst storm in like.. Ever..” You say. “Well, maybe not ever.. But in years.”

“-cold temperatures like this can be deadly, so please be careful and stay inside if possible.” The weather lady continues on the tv.

“See. It’s dangerous out there. Think it would be considered murder if I let you sleep out there in your truck and you die tonight?”

“Nahh..” Frank says smirking. “Sooo.. What’s the deal with you? You running from something or towards something?” He asks waving a hand at your luggage.

“Who says I’m running?” You ask biting your lip.

Frank raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, telling you it’s pretty obvious without words.

You sigh and look away. “From something I guess.. I don’t know, just.. Just need a fresh start, you know?”

“Hmm.” He nods in understanding. “Get that..”

“What about y-“ You start but you’re interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. “The fuck..” You mumble nervously and you pull your legs up to your chest.

There’s another loud knock and you see Frank grabbing a gun from his bag. “Wha-? W-why do you have that?” You whisper yell.

Frank places his finger against his lips to tell you to shut up and he walks to the door. “Hey Princes!” You hear the slurred voice of the creep from before and another loud knock on the door. Frank’s body visibly relaxes, he places the gun in his waistband on his back and he yanks open the door.

“The fuck did I tell you, huh?” He growls.

“Y-you?” He asks confused. He sounds very drunk. “Saw the -hic- saw the girl go in here..”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Frank says angrily. “Now.”

Seeing Frank protect you like that kind of turns you on. And the way the muscles of his shoulders and back flex as he tenses in anger when the guy doesn’t leave straight away. Fuck.. The beer and that fact that you haven’t gotten any action in a while also don’t help.

“If you wanna live, you go to your room now and you don’t come out till the morning.” Frank rasps in a low voice.

You should be scared of this stranger with a gun, threatening someone’s life, but you’re not.

“Alright.. Jesus..” You hear the guy slur and you’re guessing he walks away.

“Yeah, that’s right..” Frank rasps before closing the door, placing the gun on the desk and sitting down again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he takes a sip of his beer and you squeeze your thighs together.

“T-thanks. Don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.” You say. “Good thing I got you in here, huh?” You add, smiling and winking playfully. Maybe even flirtatiously.

“Yeah yeah..” He huffs a laugh.

“First you save me by giving me your room and then you help me get a creep away from that room..” You say getting on your knees on the edge of the bed and looking up at him through your lashes. You’re pretty sure your nipples are showing through your shirt. “How can I ever repay you..?”

“How can ya-?” He looks off to the side, licks his lips and looks back at you. “Listen, Sweetheart.. You don’t have to do this. ‘S not why I helped you.”

“I know I don’t have to..” You say and you bite your lip, looking at his crotch. You think the bulge has grown a little already.

“Y-you already gave me money for the room and let me use your shower..” You can tell he’s getting a little nervous.

“Huh.. That’s right..” You say smirking at the realization. “Maybe.. Maybe you should thanks me then..” You’ve never been this forward in your life, but you kind of like it. There’s no going back now and you lift your t-shirt over your head.

“Fuck..” Frank growls softly as he takes in your appearance. The only thing covering you is a tiny black thong. “Sweetheart..” He pleads a little, but he gets up and walks your way. He places two fingers under your chin and pushes your head back, making sure you look up at him. “You sure?”

“Please..” You say panting.

He growls a little and moves his hands to your bare tits. “These are perfect..” He says as he squeezes them a little before rolling the hard nipples between his fingers.

You moan softly and arch your back, pushing against his hands. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” He asks as he leans forward and sucks one hard little peak into his mouth.

“Yesss..” You moan louder as you feel his warm tongue slide over your skin. He bites gently and your eyes roll back in your head. “Fuckkk..” His beard scratches against your skin, but it only adds to the pleasure.

“Like that, little girl?” He asks.

“Not a little-“

“Yeah y’are.. A bad little girl.. Seducing men over twice her age..” He mumbles against your skin as he kisses his way to your other nipple. Giving it the same attention as the first one.

“Oh fuck..” You whine, your belly clenching at his words. “Don’t usually.. I.. I’m a good girl..” You pant.

He gets up and pulls the tank top over his head. “Good girl, huh? That right?”

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes.

He slowly undoes the strings of his shorts. “Gonna show me how good of a girl y’are, hm?”

You swallow thickly. “Y-yes..” You say nervously and move back on the bed so you can lean forward on your elbows, your face level with his crotch. “P-please..”

He growls and pushes the shorts down together with his boxers. A big, rock hard cock springs free. It’s thick and veiny with a nice, large, pre cum leaking head. Your mouth waters and you moan loudly. “So big..” You whine and take him in your hand. “Fuck..” You swallow thickly as your feel that he’s too big to wrap your finger around the shaft.

“You can handle it though, right, Sweetheart?” He teases and gently lays his hand on the back of your head tangling his fingers in your hair.

“Gonna try..” You say while you start stroking him. You look up at him while you stick out your tongue and lick the pre cum from his tip, lightly tonguing the little slit before swirling your tongue all around the head.

“F-fuck..” He hisses.

You contemplate if you should tease a little more, but you’re too inpatient. You smile up at him and slowly let him slide into your mouth. Your lips stretch tightly around his girth and you moan.

“That’s it.. That’s a good girl..” He groans as you take him as deep as you can, until he pushes against your throat.

You moan and your eyes roll back in your head at his words. You’ve never been with anyone who talked to you like this and you really like it.

You start sucking him slow and deep, letting your saliva drip down his shaft. You stroke the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth with one hand and gently fondle his balls with the other. The muscles in his stomach clench and his hips buck forward. The movement pushes his cock against your throat and you gag. “Fuck ‘m sorry.. Been a while..”

You smile around him and moan. “Oh you like that, huh?” He asks and he thrusts deep into your mouth. You gag again. Your eyes roll back and you moan. You love the way he takes control, the way he uses your mouth, your throat, for his pleasure. “Yeahh.. See, just a dirty, bad little girl.. Want me to fuck your face, hm?”

You try to say yes with his cock in your mouth, but all that comes out is some gurgles, so you nod. He growls and starts thrusting. “That’s it.. Take that fucking cock..”

You gag and choke. Your eyes are watery as you look up at him and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. Never been this wet.

“Gonna make me cum like that..” He groans. His hand tightens in your hair and he pulls out.

“Hmmmm.” You protest and you try to keep him in, but let go with a pop.

You pout and he chuckles. “I was supposed to be thanking you, remember?” He asks, gently stroking himself.

“Y’are..” You say, your voice a bit hoarse. “Think I’m doing this for you?” You tease smirking. “No.. This is for me.. And now I want my treat..” You add and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

He laughs through his nose and shakes his head in disbelieve. “Gonna take a minute before I can go again if I do that. ‘M not 18 anymore, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t care..” You say. “Please..” You add before sucking him back in your mouth hungrily.

Frank growls loudly. Rambling while you determinedly suck him off, stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck.. You want it, Sweetheart? Want my cum? Such a good girl.. Yeah, don’t stop.. Sweet girl.. Fuckkkk!”

Thick, hot cum coats your tongue and squirts against the back of your throat. You moan and swallow everything. Fuck that was hot.. You slowly and gently suck a little more, trying to get every last drop without overstimulating him. “F-fucking hell..” He groans softly. You let his softening member slide from your mouth and smile up at him proudly. He smiles back at you lazily, showing the crow’s feet next to his eyes, and caresses your cheek. “That was amazing..” He pants. He immediately looks more light and relaxed.

“Yeah?” You tease, biting your lip and getting up, sitting back on your heels.

“Yeah..” He says and he almost sounds a little shy. “Your turn now..” He says as he gets on the bed and guides you on your back with him on top of you. He gently grabs your jaw and leans in to kiss you. The scratching of his beard against your chin and cheeks is pleasant in contrast with his soft lips. His tongue darts out and flicks over your bottom lip, silently asking to let him in. You open your mouth and your tongues dance together in a passionate kiss. His free hand moves between your bodies to your dripping center and he growls. “Oh, Sweetheart.. You’re soaking..” He mutters against your lips

You buck your hips into his hand. “P-please..” You pant. You need more.. A lot more..

“Did sucking me off make you this wet, Sweetheart?” He teases a little.

You don’t answer, just moan.

“Can I take these off?” He asks playing with the hem of your panties.

“Please..” You say. You’re the shy one now. l

He sits up, hooks his thumbs in the lacy fabric and you lift your hips, so he can slide them down your legs. He throws them on the floor. “Open up, pretty girl..” He says and he slides his hand from your knees to the insides of your thighs spreading you open for him. He growls loudly. “Such a pretty pussy.. Wanna taste you, Sweetheart.. You want that? Want my tongue, sweet girl?”

“Y-yes, Frank.. Please.. Need it so badddd..” The last word is dragged out as he slowly slides his flat tongue through the full length of your slit. “Holy shit..” You moan.

He growls loudly. “Hmmmm.. You taste so good..” He slides his tongue through your lips a few more times, pushing it inside of you a couple of times, before swirling it around your clit. His tongue soft, warm and wet against your sensitive skin.

“Ooh, Frank! Fuck! Y-your good at that!” Your hips buck and he holds you down, growling. He slowly pushes two fingers inside you and sucks your clit into his mouth. “Holy.. Fuck!” He hooks his fingers inside you, massaging the spongy skin at your front wall while sucking and licking on your clit. You see stars. “Frank I’m gonna.. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna..” You fist your hand in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Do it..” He hums against your skin. “Cum on my tongue..”

You cry out loudly as you explode. “Yessss!! Oh fuck!”

“Hmmm..” He growls as he laps up your juices. “Good girl.. Good girl.. Fuck I need to be inside you..”

“Yess.. Need you.. Please..” You pant and you try to pull him up at his shoulders. He moves over you, forearms on either side of your head, caging you in and kisses you again, hungrily. You taste yourself in his mouth and the hairs from his beard are wet with your slick.

He’s hard again and you can feel him against your groin. He moves his hand between your body’s and aligns himself with your opening. “Ready, Sweetheart?” He asks looking into your eyes.

“Yes.. Give it to me..” You pant.

“Eyes on me.” He says and slowly but surely sinks inside of you. “Fuck..” He hisses. “So tight..”

Your mouth falls open. “Oh Frank..” You moan. “So big.. So good..”

He slowly starts fucking you. His jaw is slack and he looks at you like he’s in awe. “Please, kiss me..” You moan and he happily obliges. It’s amazing and it feels like the two of you have known each other since forever.

“You feel so good..” He growls against your lips and speeds up his thrusts, making you cry out a little. “This okey?” He asks between kisses and he moves his hand between your bodies to rub your clit.

“M-more.. Harder, please..” You moan.

“Yeah?” He asks, lifting up his head to look you in the eyes. You nod and he nods back before speeding up his thrusts even more, properly pounding you now. You can feel him slamming against your cervix and it feels absolutely amazing.

“Oh F-Frank! Fuck!” You cry out loudly. You can feel yourself nearing another orgasm. “Please don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

He growls. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock?!” He asks never slowing his pace.

“Yes!! Oh Frank!!!” You squeeze your thighs around him tightly and lose yourself in your orgasm. “Yessss!!”

“Fuck! Wh-where d’you want it?” He pants, his voice sounds strained.

“I-Inside! Please! I’m on birth control.. Please I want it inside me! Please Frank, please cum for me!” You beg, moaning.

His breath hitches in his throat. “Oh you’re perfect.. S-so perfect.. Fucking fill you up.. T-take it!” He pushes inside of you as deep as he can and stills as he cums, growling loudly. “Yessss!!”

He collapses on top of you and you just lie there, both panting. “Can’t breathe.” You say after a while. He chuckles and rolls next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“That was..” He mutters.

“Yeah it was.” You say.

“‘M not going back to my truck.” He says looking at you, smirking.

You laugh. “I’m glad.” You say and you cuddle into his chest.

You don’t know what tomorrow will bring and if the snow will be gone, but you don’t want to think about that now. Right now, you just want to enjoy the warmth and safety from this amazing man.

[chelseasdagger]

Behind the Red in My Eyes

Mikey Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Mikey comes home, yet again, exhausted after a long shift at The Beef. You offer him some encouraging words and his favorite touch to unwind.

Warnings: cursing

Author's Note: This is my first entry for @bernthirst-events's Beardthal Bash! I had this idea for a while, but I ended up writing way more plot than was needed oops! I still hope there was enough mention of the beard to count!

Word Count: 2.9k+

Mikey Berzatto took pride in his work. It may not be the most glamorous job, but he put countless hours into the family restaurant that he tries so hard to keep afloat. It’s one of your favorite things about him—how much heart he puts into everything he does.

The only downside is how often you’re stuck missing him while the apartment grows too quiet as the hours pass. You have the schedule of The Beef’s hours ingrained in your mind, tacking on the extra time it takes to close up at night. But all the counting does little to stop the frequent checking of the clock on your phone’s lockscreen.

You were thankful when he worked up the deal with Carmy to split some of the necessary management time at the sandwich shop—if you could call it management time. It would be more truthful to call it “babysitting”, taking into consideration the hotheadedness of the staff. And let's be honest, leaving the restaurant in the hands of Richie Jerimovich? Absolutely not.

But, as much as the Berzatto brothers meant well, this plan didn’t last. It worked for a while, Mikey taking the mornings and helping with opening the store so that around the time that the menu changed, Carmy could come in and work until close. They figured it would be the best way to not overwork themselves but still put a healthy amount of time into their family business.

And then one day it was too busy for Mike to come home. Since then, there hasn’t really been a fix to the original plan. You miss him a lot and definitely wish you could see him more, but you feel so much pride swelling in your chest each time you think of how hard he works for that little brick building. No amount of missing him could outweigh that feeling—or how your face feels as if it might split in two when you sneak into the restaurant and see how happy he is to be there.

Nine times out of ten, you walk in and see his smile brightening the whole room as his infectious laugh fills the air. His eyes would be squinted into thin lines as his head falls back and he clutches his chest for a breath. He always cared about the people and wanted everyone to feel welcome there no matter their background or history. You loved seeing him like this and kept these memories at the front of your mind whenever it got harder to be patient on the long nights alone.

Your phone is in your hand before you can even register it. A habit I need to break, you remind yourself, but your screen shows the time anyway. Quarter after midnight. You place the phone down on the coffee table with a sigh, exchanging it for the book that your friend swore you had to read.

Tucking your finger between the pages and your bookmark, you open up the book and scan the printed words until you can jog your memory of the last thing you read. Once you find your place, you tuck your legs to your chest and lazily tug the blanket down from the back of the couch to cover yourself. It doesn’t take long before your surroundings begin to fade and the words paint a picture in your mind.

You look up from your book at the sound of keys jingling inside the metal deadbolt on your apartment door. What time is it? A second later the door is opening and there stands Mikey. He sighs as he holds onto the doorframe before pressing the toes of one foot to the heel of the other, taking his shoes off before bending down to place them beside the entrance.

When he stands back up you finally get a good look at him in the lamplight. His shoulders are slouched, his whole body a portrait of exhaustion. He’s rubbing his knuckles sleepily at his eyes, setting the keys down on the small table beside him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you call to him as his footsteps gently sound out on the wooden floors. He finally glances over to the couch once he notices you and the smile that stretches over his face is tired, yet genuine.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers back to you. His voice is hoarse, mostly likely due to all the yelling in the chaotic kitchen he’s spent the whole day inside of. It’s almost as if his words are caught in his chest, sounding out deep and warm when he speaks. He makes his way to the couch, leaning over the back of it, and placing a quick peck of his lips on your forehead.

As soon as you feel it, he’s gone, making his way to the kitchen in the next room over. You can immediately tell something is off; Mikey gets quiet after a long day of being the loudest guy in the room, but he’s not usually reserved in his affection towards you.

The blanket you were wrapped up in slowly slides down your chest and onto your lap as you sit up against the arm of the couch. You question whether you should push it, but something in your gut wouldn’t leave it be.

“Mikey? You okay?” you call out towards the kitchen. The sound of him closing cupboards echoes through the space next. He makes his way to the fridge, opening it before leaning inside and scanning the leftovers from the meals you make while he’s out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds monotonously, pulling away with a glass container in his hand. The slightly blue lighting shines across his face, illuminating his features in a cold hue. It looks almost intentional, as if to reflect his mood. “What is this?”

“Baked ziti from last night. I’m here for you, Bear, you know that right?” You don’t miss a beat, purposefully choosing not to fall for his distraction of mentioning the food. You watch as he pauses for a moment, setting the food down on the counter and closing the fridge before walking back towards you. You never want to push him or demand he open up to you, but you also want him to know he can lean on you if need be.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he sinks down onto the cushion beside you, one arm resting along the length of the couch, the other propping his head up in his palm. You can see all the evidence of his tiring day of work now that he’s closer to you: the dark grease stains along the bottom of his blue shirt, the marks under his eyes indicating he didn’t sleep enough, the new bandage wrapped around his thumb. All signs point to a draining, most likely not rewarding, day.

Gently reaching out for his wrist, you pull his larger hand into yours. “What happened here?” He moves with you, turning his palm face up as you let your index finger gently trace over his skin. The bandage is uneven, and you can see the faint maroon marking under the tan color.

“Was a uh,” he begins, sighing as he rubs at his eyes with the knuckles of his free hand. “Was an accident. Cousin called me while I was choppin’ onions and, well,” he gestures to his injured thumb. You feel your features change as he speaks, the words painting a clear picture in your head of him in the kitchen as he gets hurt.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” you whisper in the small space between the two of you. Your own fingers drag down the inside of his arm, trailing over scars from accidental fryer burns and playing rough outside with Carmy when he was younger. All the little markings on his skin have little stories behind them, and you cherish the boisterous laughter that comes from him when he tells the tales.

“S’alright, baby, happens all the time,” he attempts to reassure you. The tone surrounding his words falls flat and leaves you with the same weariness in your mind. Glancing up at his face, you see the tired lines under his eyes and the way he stares out at nothing while his mind wanders.

Curling your fingers around him tighter, you bring his hand up to your face and place a gentle kiss right under the bandage. It takes him another moment to react due to the other thoughts trailing around in his mind. When he finally glances over, his eyes are fixed on your lips pressing against him, the small peck sending a wave of warmth through him. You continue staring up at him from under your eyelashes; the sigh that leaves him makes his chest deflate when his gaze locks with yours.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly, a sad smile on his face.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” you ask, wanting to try and improve his mood. He twists his back and adjusts himself against the couch.

“Nah, nah, baby, it’s okay. It’ll heal up,” he answers dismissively. It’s clear he didn’t pick up on the other meaning of your question, so you try wording it another way.

“No I didn’t mean the cut, Mikey.” His eyebrows pull together, confusion painted all over his features. “I can see how tired you are,” you continue, watching him sigh again and prepare to defend himself. “I just want to take some of the weight off your shoulders, is all. I’m not gonna say to cut your hours back, I know you can’t do that but…” you find your words trailing off when he reaches up to drag his palm down his face.

“You have to at least take care of yourself,” you whisper the final words as his hand drops to his lap. There’s a silence that lingers over the room and you’re worried you’ve overstepped in suggesting the restaurant being the source of a good portion of his stress.

“You’re right,” he speaks up, and you feel the tension leaving your body almost instantly. “You’re right, I just don’t… think about it?” his tone rises at the end, twisting the sentence into more of a question. His eyes find yours again and you give him a slight nod, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

“It just… It’s always been the restaurant first, y’know? Like if that goes under then I’ve got nothing left. And then all the things everybody says about me are true.” He finishes the last sentences with an exasperated breath. Your heart sinks at his words, especially after spending one too many family dinners at his mother’s house and hearing how they treat him and his impulsivity. You want to defend him, but choose not to interrupt his venting.

“And nobody in my family knows how to slow down. I mean, shit, look at Carm,” he chuckles dryly as he shakes his head. “Nearly fuckin’ killed himself out in New York. Mom doesn’t have her head screwed on straight, doesn’t know what’s going on half the fuckin’ time. It just—.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low in his hands.

There’s a quick sniffle before he’s raking his fingers through his hair roughly. He sits up and stares down at his fingers, anxiously picking at the skin around his nails. Every fiber in your being screams to reach out to him and comfort him, and this time you listen to your instincts.

“Mikey,” you start, gently placing your hand on his forearm and pulling him towards you. His body falls and you feel his weight instantly pressing into your shoulder. Slumped against you like this, his body heat instantly warms up your side and you melt in turn.

“I know you might not know how to take those breaks, but we can work through it together,” you attempt to calm him. “It might not be easy at first but we can just take it one day at a time, yeah?” You glance down at your shoulder to see him staring up at you with half closed eyes. He slowly blinks before finally registering that you asked him a question.

“I like that plan,” he says eventually. His lips part as a yawn takes over and you smile as his eyes scrunch up while his jaw drops open.

“Oh, poor baby…” you chuckle under your breath. His face rests back in his natural position, but his eyes remain shut. He looks so peaceful like this that it makes your heart warm. Admittedly, it’s been too long since you’ve seen him truly relaxed like this. The last few times must’ve been when you were waking up in the night and happened to catch him asleep.

Stolen glances in the middle of the night aren’t enough, you decide. Adjusting your body on the couch, you angle yourself so your back is against the arm of the couch and your legs extend down the length of the cushions. You pull his body between your legs, guiding his head down to rest on your chest.

“You know none of that shit they say is true… right?” you ask softly as you let your fingers trail down his neck and smoothe down his back. He may not look like it, but Mike is one of the biggest suckers for physical touch—specifically cuddling.

He only hums in response, but still you continue. “The restaurant wasn’t a bad idea, baby. I think it’s sweet you kept something in the family name.” You drag your nails down his broad back softly and feel him sigh deeply, the leftover tension finally leaving his body.

“‘M pretty sure you’re the only one who thinks that,” he mumbles out, not bothering to lift his head from you. 

“I swear to god the next time Uncle Lee, or whoever, opens their god damn mouth I’m gonna be the one to throw a fork.” The next thing you feel is Mikey’s laughter shaking you, his rumbly chuckle sounding out in the quiet room. You let yourself smile at the pleasant sound, pressing your fingers into the junction where his neck meets his shoulders. With each push of your fingertips, you try to get rid of those pesky knots of stress that his body is unconsciously clinging on to.

“Seriously though,” you start again, wrapping your arms around his head this time, “we’ll figure it all out. I just want you to rest for now.” You tilt your head down and press your lips to the top of his head. You shut your eyes and try to focus on this moment: the feeling of his body weighing on your torso, his hot breath gently fanning over your arm, his scent relaxing you with each inhale you take.

You let your fingers wander, scratching your nails around his scalp under his hair. There’s a raspy groan that leaves him next and the sound has butterflies​​ suddenly coming to life in your stomach. A giggle slips out from between your lips as you ask, “Feels that good?”

Something bumps the side of your palm as you continue to play with his hair and you reach for it blindly. You try your hardest not to let disappointment wash over you as you stare at the cigarette between your fingers.

“I thought we weren’t doing this anymore, Mikey bear,” you speak in a whisper. A little less than a week ago, Mike decided to stop smoking and using drugs. You knew he could do it but you also knew how big of a step he was taking, so you tried giving as much support as you could offer. He tilts his head up at your voice and looks at you with confusedly. He glances down at the tightly rolled paper in your grasp before shaking his head gently.

“That’s from this morning, baby. Cousin offered it when he clocked in and I didn’t want to say no and have him asking a bunch of fuckin’ questions,” he explains exasperatedly. “But no, I-I didn’t smoke today.” His words are bathed with sincerity even through the tired rasp of his tone.

Your face lights up instantly, pride swelling in your chest once you realize that he kept his promise to you—his promise to himself. You can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to cut everything out like that, but you know he’s going to feel better in the long run because of it.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you whisper as your fingers brush down his sideburns and begin to smooth out over his beard. “You’re doing so much and I see it.” You worry your words fall flat, but you also know how sometimes all you want is for someone to say that they notice the work you’re doing.

“Thank you.” You believe for a second that you imagined the words due to the barely audible breath that surrounds them. He reaches up to hold your wrist before turning his head to kiss the back of your hand. Sweet moments like this make your heart melt for him and how gentle he can be. There’s not much else to say so the both of you sit in silence, comforted by the presence of the other.

Your nails drag along the short hair that decorates his jaw and you watch his eyes flutter close for the last time. As you wrap your other arm across his chest and pull him closer, you smile at the sound of his soft snores filling the air. The ends of his facial hair tickle your fingertips but you continue gently scratching, wanting to give him a comforting touch to fall into an even deeper sleep.

“Rest up, baby boy,” you whisper as you kiss his head one final time.

[swordhearte]

the song of achilles, madeline miller // poems, louise gluck // the secret history, donna tart // there is no absolution for the fallen, p.d // pilgrimage 2017 dir. brendan muldowney

[kdogreads]

Bad Girlfriend

Frank Castle x f!reader

TW: smutty smut (minors DNI pls), alcohol consumption, slightly jealous!Frank, pinch of degradation/praise, public sex🤭

A/n: This song popped up on my shuffle and all I could think about was Frankie being proud of his badass girl 🥵😍 Happy Beardthal Bash, fellow delulus 😏

The two of you often found yourselves here: getting hammered in your favorite little dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen. It was close enough to walk home, so this was basically your excuse to get shit-faced then go home and eat whatever alcohol-fueled concoctions you could come up with and each other.

Tonight started out just like every other night at the hole in the wall you’d come to love. Frankie sat on a barstool behind you while you swayed and danced to the music, stopping every so often to wrap your arms around his neck and plant a sloppy kiss on his lips.

“Have I told you how good you look tonight, baby?” Frank whispered into your ear while he held you close.

“Only about a hundred times, Frankie,” You giggled and pulled away to give him a flirtatious smirk.

“My girl just looks so,” he paused and looked you up and down before sliding one hand down your back, reaching your curved bottom and giving it a nice squeeze, “good.”

You squealed his name at the feeling and swatted his hand away, trying to acted embarrassed and not totally turned on. He just smiled that heartbreaking smile and pecked you on the lips before you turned around to dance between his legs some more.

A few minutes passed before you felt a strong hand on your waist.

“Gonna hit the head. Wait here?” Frank pecked your cheek before sliding out from behind you.

You took his spot on the barstool, waiting for the bartender to come over so you could order another drink. It was as good a time as any to quickly check your phone, making sure there weren’t any fires needing put out by you or Frank. You scrolled aimlessly through your notifications, nothing popping out at you as “urgent,” so you slid it back into your purse and smiled at the barkeeper you’d come to be friendly with. He signaled you he’d be there next, so you let your body start swaying to the music again.

“Pretty girl like you really here all alone?” You hadn’t noticed that a tall, muscular beef cake-looking guy had sat down on the stool next to you until he spoke.

“Oh,” You scoffed quietly as you realized he was flirting with you, “Don’t need company to have a good time, right?”

He laughed a little too hard as the bartender slid your mixed drink in front of you.

“Put that on my tab, bro,” The man piped up as you took a sip. You tipped your glass his way in thanks. This was going to be so fun.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Frank take a seat at a barstool a few feet away from you. He had a smirk on his face as the barkeeper gave him a confused look. Frank must have muttered something about his little game as the bartender shook his head and laughed while handing him a new drink. His eyes were glued to you as you slowly slid back onto your feet, letting the music sway your hips as you listened to your admirer going on and on about his gym routine or something.

Your new friend, Justin or Jason or something like that (you chose not to remember), was still going on about his favorite protein powder when you felt a hand on your arm, “So, what do ya say we take this party to my place?”

You stopped dancing and shot a glance over to Frank. He was clearly not happy based on the way he gripped his glass so hard you thought it might shatter, but stayed in his seat as he rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck, trying desperately to keep his cool.

“I appreciate the offer, Jackson, but I have somewhere to be,” You spoke sweetly as you set your empty glass on the bar top and went to turn away.

“It’s Jordan,” He corrected and kept his hand on your arm, tightening his grip just enough for you to notice, “Come on, baby, I just wanna get to know you better.”

The pet name triggered something in you — something that had your adrenaline pumping and led you to react before you even realized.

In one swift motion, you gripped his bulky wrist and twisted his arm in towards you, threatening to pop his elbow out of place and dropping him onto his knees in an instant.

You didn’t see Frank come over to you, but when you glanced back up he was right beside you with his hand on the arm you currently had on the creep.

“Tsk,” Frank tutted as he reached up to cup your face, “Baby, you don’t want to hurt the little boy, now do you?”

You smiled and let go of the man’s arm as Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, claiming what was his.

It was the muttering of “crazy fucking bitch” that broke Frank’s lips away from yours and lead his fist to collide with the guy’s jaw. He tumbled back into the foot rail on the bar and pressed a hand to his already-swelling cheek.

“Thanks for the drink!” You exclaimed cheerfully as Frank wrapped his strong arm around you and headed for the door. He stopped only to hand a fifty-dollar bill to his barkeeper friend with a small “sorry” and cheeky grin on his face.

——

The two of you strolled into the brisk night air as if nothing had happened. You walked in relative silence until you reached the corner of the building when Frank pulled you into the dark alleyway beside it.

You gasped as Frank slammed his lips to yours, his broad hands already wandering all over your body.

“Frankie,” You whined between kisses, “What are you doing?”

“My girl is tough as nails,” He kissed his way down your jaw to your neck, “And so fucking sexy.”

You giggled as his stubbly face tickled your clavicle, trying to keep your knees from buckling, “So you like seeing me with other guys, then?”

Your teasing did exactly as you hoped. Frank stood up straight looked down at you, a pained look under his furrowed brows, as his hands worked feverishly on unbuckling his belt. You bit your lip to hold back an excited moan from escaping your lips.

“No, baby, I don’t,” He hummed as he hiked your dress up around your waist, wasting no time dragging his thick fingers over your aching core, “Now I gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?”

Before you could come up with a snarky response, Frank slid your panties out of the way and rubbed tight circles over your throbbing clit. You settled back against the wall in a desperate attempt to stay upright. He practically growled in your ear as he boxed you in against the wall, his strong arm reaching under your knee to give him more access to your dripping center.

“That what you wanted, huh?” He slid two thick fingers into your tight hole, your nails digging into his back and eyes rolling shut, “Wanted me to fuck you out here in front of everyone like the good little whore you are?”

You gasped as he fucked his fingers into you hard and fast, his jeans growing tighter by the minute. You clawed at his toned shoulders as you already teetered on the edge. The way Frank’s thick fingers stretched you so deliciously and his thumb worked tight circles over your clit had you keening under his touch.

“Fuck, Frankie,” You panted into his shoulder, biting down to keep from crying out, “please.”

He pulled his fingers out of you with a pop and a gasp escaping your lips. Before you could even whine at the loss he had his jeans and boxers pulled down just enough to free his achingly hard cock. He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly sank in, filling you all the way to the brim before both of you let out desperate groans.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so fucking tight,” He growled into your ear as he hiked your other leg up off the ground, his broad body holding you up against the cool brick wall.

He slowly slid almost all the way out of your dripping cunt before slamming his hips back into yours, a high-pitched wine danced from your lips and made Frank twitch inside of you.

Frank set a hard and fast pace and he kept plowing into you, over and over, until you felt yourself approaching the edge once again.

“Frankie,” You panted, your fingers gripping onto the short hairs at the back of his neck, causing a hiss to escape Frank’s gritted teeth.

“Tha’s right,” One of his hands wrapped around your thigh to put a delicious pressure on your pulsing clit, “Cum all over daddy’s cock, baby, come on.”

You felt Frankie’s hand cradling the back of your head as your walls squeezed his cock rhythmically. Your legs shook in his grasp and your hands grabbed at every part of him you could reach as the white hotness rushed through your veins. A string of praises spilled out of Frank’s parted lips as you fell apart around him.

Good fucking girl.

So goddamn beautiful, baby, look at you.

Attagirl fuckin’ squeezin’ me like that.

Gonna fill this little pussy up; make you mine, baby girl.

All you could do was frantically buck your hips into his as your mind slowly settled back down to earth, the overstimulation already fogging your brain again.

Frankie’s cock pounding into you, the brick scratching lightly at your exposed skin, the chance of someone turning the corner and catching you two like this — it all felt too good and another high came crashing into like a fucking train before you could even recover from the first one.

Frank crashed his lips into yours to keep you both from moaning out into the wind. He couldn’t hold back anymore as your walls clenched around him again and he fucked into you even harder as he filled your cunt with hot, white ropes of his seed.

You stayed in each other’s arms for another moment, panting and trying to catch your breath. Frank’s forehead rested against yours as he let out a shaky laugh.

“Holy shit, sweetheart,” He kissed the tip of your nose and carefully slid out of you, your feet slowly sliding back down to the ground.

“Holy shit yourself, Frankie,” You gripped his shoulder reflexively to keep from falling on your face, even though Frank’s strong hands held you firmly in place in front of him.

He laughed a fuller laugh this time, smoothing your dress back down over your shaky thighs. He pulled you into his chest and planted a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s get you home, you fuckin’ tease,” Frank winked at you before sliding his arm around your waist.

You let out a gasp of feigned shock, your hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Francis! I would never,” You couldn’t even finish your thought without a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

Frank just grumbled a sarcastic Mmmhhm and pulled you closer to him before heading off in the direction of home.

It was going to be a long night and you couldn’t be more excited about it.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Lost and Found ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: meetcute! With dogs!

Oral (f rec), beardburn, coming in pants (m) 😍, written for the @bernthirst-events #beardthalbash, thanks to @darlingshane and @anna-hawk for organising!

"Midge! Miiiidge!" Your voice echoes through the endless trees as you call out again and again, listening hopefully for the familiar thunder of paws on the leafy undergrowth coming back toward you, but there was nothing but the muted twitter of birds. "Midge, come!" You shout again, your voice starting to tremble with worry as you walk hurriedly along the forestry path. The light was beginning to fade earlier in these shortening autumn evenings, and it would soon be impossible to find your runaway pup. You take out your phone, dismayed to see the signal nonexistent out this deep in the woods.

"C'mon Midge! Midge, please come back!" The back of your throat is rough from yelling and your eyes are glistening with tears. You couldn't go home, you had to keep looking for her.

"Miiiidge?!" You tried again, and stopped in your tracks as you heard a rustling nearby, but it was just a blackbird rummaging in the leaf litter.

"Oh Midge…" you croak out more quietly, still holding her broken lead tightly in your fist. You cursed yourself for not replacing it sooner after she had been chewing it, for not buying a stronger one. You were so wrapped up in your own admonishment that you jumped out of your skin when someone walked up the track behind you.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me askin', are you alright?"

You turned and were met with the figure of a large bearded man. He kept his distance when he realised he had given you a bit of a fright, giving you time to take in the fact that he was wearing a dark green shirt with the park ranger logo embroidered on it along with utility pants and sturdy walking boots. His eyes were dark and he was looking at you kindly.

"I'm Frank, I'm a ranger. I heard you yelling, can I help?" He asks, and you find yourself stuttering over your words, partly in relief that someone else was around, and someone who hopefully knew these woods a lot better than you.

"It's- it's my dog, she… oh, I've been searching and calling for her for hours, she broke her lead when she saw a squirrel and bolted after it! I couldn't catch her in time and she's just- she's just a pup!" You sniffle as your eyes keep flitting around to look through the trees. "I can't find her, she doesn't know this part of the woods that well, I can't leave her alone out there."

The ranger nods and steps a little bit closer. "Alright, I know that you're worried about her, but this sorta thing happens a lot. I'm gonna help you to find her best I can. Can you give me a description? An' I heard you callin' out 'Midge', s'that right?"

You wipe at your damp eyes, nodding. "She's a border collie, black and white. She's 8 months but she's small for her age."

"Okay ma'am, do you remember when and where you last saw her? I'll radio my team and we'll be able to have more eyes and ears lookin' out for Midge okay?" His voice is low and authoritative but soft with it, and your tears soon stop as you're distracted by the way he goes straight into action.

"Back over the ridge near the fire pass, I think it was about two hours ago…" you tell him.

Frank unclips his radio from his belt and relays all the information, getting confirmation from a variety of voices shortly after.

"Okay, let's take a walk back that way huh? You got some treats or somethin' with you?"

You fall into step beside him, grasping the bag of mini bone biscuits from your pocket. "Yeah."

He smiles. "That's good. Those her favourite, huh?"

"Yeah. But she just loves any food really."

You pick a few out hoping that Midge might be able to smell them from wherever she is and her greedy stomach might lead her back to you.

Frank nods. "Is she alright with guys? I know some dogs don't like a man with a beard, can scare em sometimes."

You soon dismiss Frank's concern. "No not at all, actually she'd likely love you. I mean, our postman is quite a big guy and she's always happy to see him at the house. Though I guess he does bring treats for a lot of the dogs."

Frank smiles again and starts calling out for Midge as you come near to the spot where she ran off and you join him, shaking the bag of treats. He takes out a flashlight and starts a sweep. "Which way did she head, do you remember?" He asks.

You point down the slope in front of you and he starts making his way through the trees with you following behind and both calling. After a little while walking down the hill he holds up his hand in a signal to stop and you stay quiet. He listens and you strain your ears too, eventually hearing a distant whimper.

"Oh! Oh it's Midge!" You're suddenly sick with fear that she's seriously hurt and start running towards the sound, the thick branches scraping against your face and arms. Frank catches up to you quickly and urges you to slow down.

"Hey, hey! Watch yourself now, there's a ton of burrows and shit you could break your ankle in if you're not careful. Just hold back with me. It's alright, we'll get to her."

You reluctantly slow your pace as he's right after all, he does know these woods better than you and very soon he's crouching down at the roots of a big tree. As you round it you see little Midge on the ground whining and wagging her tail as she sees you. Her back paw is caught between two roots and she's clearly in some pain.

"Hey, hey Midgey, shhh it's okay, just stay nice and still." You try to calm her, holding her collar as Frank is extremely gentle as he carefully moves the roots to work her paw free and lift her up.

"There we go," he says as he holds her.

Both of you look the pup over for any other injuries before he radios that you'd found her to his colleagues. As you feel her ankle joint there's a little bruising but she doesn't seem to be in any great distress and when you hold out one of her treats she's more than eager to gobble it up.

"Oh Midge, it's alright baby, you're gonna be alright!" You stroke her soft fur in comfort, more for you, lifting your head to look at the ranger, your eyes shining slightly with tears. Just then Midge tilts her head up and licks Frank's face so sweetly and he cracks a smile. "Heh, that's a good sign."

You're so relieved and the rich sound of his laugh as Midge keeps on lavishing him with licks is infectious, making you chuckle too. It makes you feel so much better after all the worry.

"I can't thank you enough, Frank. I was so scared it would be so much worse!" You tell him as you all walk back to the park entrance.

"Hey no worries, it's all just part of the job." He replies as you reach the gate. It was almost completely dark now and the rain was starting to come down in a drizzly mist. "You local? Do you need a ride home?" He asks.

You glance down the road. It was only about a mile and a half walk away but you didn't want to risk Midge getting away from you again as she might manage to wriggle out of your arms on the road.

"Um, actually that would be really great if it wouldn't be too much trouble? We're not far."

"Not at all ma'am, best make sure this lil lady doesn't have another chance to get into trouble again, I know what they can be like!" He jibes, booping Midge gently on her nose which she licks afterwards.

When you reach the outside of your little lodge house after the short ride, you thank Frank again. In the light from the porch his dark eyes are twinkling as he bids you both goodnight.

"I'm sure she'll be back out and about in no time, just keep an eye out for those darn squirrels yeah?"

You laugh a little now that your worry is mostly over, and you notice how handsome he is as well as the kindness and trust that seemed to just emanate from him effortlessly, putting you at ease. "I certainly will! I'm so glad you found us, thank you. Once she's rested and recovered from her ordeal maybe we'll see you around?"

"Yeah, I sure hope so." He replies giving you a gorgeous smile as he gets back into his truck.

-

Frank is just signing off an email when he hears a familiar bark from outside the office. Lady, his own dog, responds with her own short huff, excited to see her playmate again.

It's been a couple of months since Midge's incident and maybe him carrying treats in his pocket might have had something to do with it, but she always ran up to the ranger station and let her arrival be known every time you walk her. And Frank sure as hell doesn't mind as it means he gets to see you.

It had started with polite, friendly waves and a big pet for Midge whenever you happened upon each other in the park. Then, you would frequently stop to chat to him, ask him about his day and he about yours, and then you had started to drop by after his shift finished so you could all go on a walk together. There was nothing Frank loved more than being in the outdoors, except now he got to share that with someone, and he found himself increasingly glad that it was you.

Frank always made you laugh with the way he would run around playing with Midge and Lady, even after a long day's work. You showed him the tricks you had been teaching your pup, and on your regular hikes you also started to learn more about each other. Frank started looking forward to the times he would see you, your easy and generous smile lighting up his world and maybe even pushing to broaden the boundaries of it, maybe let someone like you to become something more. It had been a long while since he thought he felt something more than friendship blossoming, and gradually opening up to you felt right.

Still, right now he was so damn nervous. He had been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for days and then he'd inevitably chicken out, but he promised himself he'd do it tonight. And even if you turned him down, there'd be no regrets.

"Hey big bear!" You say as you greet him. "Which route do you wanna take this evening Frankie? It's your turn to pick." You ask him as Frank steps out with Lady and locks up the office. He almost loses his nerve when he turns and sees your pretty face and your sweet voice calling his nickname caresses his ears.

"Uh, I was thinkin' up by the creek," he suggests as the four of you start walking up the trailhead. Frank scratches at the back of his shirt collar. "Can't remember if I mentioned before but our place is up that way."

You turn to look at him wide eyed after you throw the ball for the dogs as they run ahead. "It is? Wow, it's so gorgeous up there. You're so damn lucky Frank, a perfect job and an amazing commute!"

He can't help beaming back, you seemed to see the positive in almost everything, he guessed he was pretty lucky.

Okay, he decides, now is the time to do it. Just put it out there. Just ask. What's the worst that could happen?

He clears his throat. "Was wonderin' actually, if you'd… uh, maybe you might wanna-" He couldn't believe he was stuttering over such a simple question. Fuck, was it supposed to be this hard? Thankfully, you stepped in and saved both of you from any more of his awkwardness.

"Frank, are you inviting me to your place?" You ask.

The light rain that's falling makes the longer strands of his hair lie in curls against his forehead. He runs a hand through it pushing it back, nodding. "Yeah, I mean, no pressure or anything. Just, if you wanna maybe have a drink with… me?"

You smile at him again. "Yeah, I'd love to."

By the time you reached his lodge you were both slightly soaked by the autumn drizzle. Frank stacks up the wood burner as soon as he lets you in, giving you and the dogs a towel to dry off with as he gets the fire going.

Once you dry off your hair and the dogs, you look around his home in awe. It's so beautiful, hewn from trees from this very forest, nothing too big and grand, just perfectly cosy. He had a neat but well stocked kitchen area, with a solid oak table and chairs by the window. A set of natural carved steps led up to a mezzanine with shelves stacked with all sorts of books and what you assumed was his bedroom.

There were glazed double doors that opened out the back onto a wooden porch and the mossy lawn behind bordered by the trees. And beside the wood burning stove was a tired but comfy looking sofa with a massive thick rug in front of it where Frank gestured to you to make yourself at home.

You kick off your shoes and hang your coat up on a hook near the door beside his next to the dog leads, and settle on the couch.

"This is magic, Frank," you tell him as he opens the fridge taking out a couple of beers.

He shakes his head, dipping his face a little like he's embarrassed or something as he walks over and hands you a bottle. "It's alright. You hungry?" He asks.

"I'm alright just now, just thirsty!" You smile, clinking your bottle against his as he sits down across from you after placing a couple of logs onto the now steadily blazing pile of kindling.

"Did it come with the job?"

He shrugs, fingers stroking his thick beard. "Uh, kinda." He takes a swig of beer and smiles as he notices Lady bringing out one of her favourite toys and letting Midge play with it without a gripe.

"Heh, look at that. S'good they're gettin' on so well." He remarks, and you hum in agreement as you watch them play.

"Yeah, I'm so glad," You say as you turn your gaze back to him. "It means we can spend more time together."

The corners of Frank's mouth pull up just a little. "S'that so? Cos I've been thinking I'd like that." He admits, the nerves rapidly melting away.

You move just a little bit closer to him on the couch, turning your body to face his. "I know I'd like that…" you confess. As you put your beer down on the side table, your hand brushes his knee and you decide to leave it there. He gazes directly at you and you feel your body temperature rise but it's not because of the fire that's burning nearby...

His fingers lightly stroke over yours and when you look back up he's so focused on you, the brown of his eyes seems so deep and dark and soft you could get lost in them. He's searching your expression for permission.

"Can I kiss you?"

His voice melts like thick honey in your ears and you're leaning in with a whispered yes instantly, almost before he can get all the words out. He raises a hand to cup your face stroking his thumb softly over your cheek and you close your eyes as he slowly leans in and gently captures your lips with his own. He's so very tender but you can feel the control he possesses as you eagerly kiss him back, the captivating strength and power held in check only by a hair trigger. Your fingers thread through his beard, guiding him to you and right now he'll go wherever you want him. He thinks maybe he should stop, a gentleman would stop and let you take the lead, dictate the pace, but you already are.

Under the light tang of beer you taste sweeter than he could imagine as your tongue slips in so softly, so teasingly between his parted lips against his own and he can't help the low moan he lets out as you surprise him by shifting to climb into his lap.

You gently pull away for a second, and your words are laced with a barely concealed urgency that has him struggling against that fucking gentlemanly conscience he had just a minute ago.

"Tell me if this is too fast?" You probe, looking down at him, your pupils already blown out. You'd been waiting for this. You'd given him all the signals for a little while now, hoping he'd maybe feel the same, waiting for him to be ready.

Frank's eyes dart from yours, down to your mouth and back up again. "Don't feel too fast to me," his words almost vibrate through you with his low tone. "Just feels right."

He moves to kiss you again and it's bliss. His lips are so soft, as is his beard although slightly tickly against your skin. You sigh and smile making a contented sound and he shows you some more of that control, his hands running up the sides of your thighs to rest on your waist, just lightly holding you. He still lets you set the speed, what you want and you let him know as your fingers slide up the shirt covering his broad chest weaving into his hair. His kiss goes deeper as you move in his lap, slowly shifting forward, pressing your hips against his and he makes his reaction to that known with the sexiest noise you've heard him make so far. You want so desperately to hear more.

"Been goin' crazy over you, you know that sweetheart?" He reveals, as you both pull away momentarily, still just inches away from each other's mouths. Your breaths are shallow, you've not felt this excited in a long while.

"You think I haven't felt the same?" You smirk.

In the days after Midge's rescue and recovery, you had found yourself thinking about Frank a lot. About his kindness, competency, and yeah maybe sometimes about how handsome he is… still you never thought he'd take a second look at you, but now you had both arrived here, feeling Frank's fingers twitch against you desperate to touch and you eager for him to do so.

You urge him to continue to explore as your lips meet again, the sensation of his fingertips so tentatively sliding up under your sweater and chasing the goosebumps away as they glide over your bare skin. You nip teasingly at his lower lip and he rewards you with a small grunt before his tongue delves back deeper into your mouth as you move your core over the now obvious bulge in his pants. He trails hot kisses down the side of your neck, pulling at the neckline of your top and you peel it off so his lips can access more of you.

"You're so gorgeous darlin'," he speaks into your skin as he places every kiss with care and attention, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he mouths around the swell of your breasts still held captive by your bra. You tug at the hem of his shirt, leaning back for a moment so he can move to take it off. Your hands are back on him instantly, tracing over his muscular torso, fingers excitedly running over every dip and rise, appreciating every rough line of his varied scars now bared to you. You're both almost panting for breath, and he's struck dumb as you claw at his belt buckle but he gently puts his hands over yours, halting them.

You glance up. "Oh, if you don't want to-"

Frank chuckles, bumping his nose against yours. "I do. God, I really do… I just need to make sure it's what you want."

You can't believe this guy, he's almost perfect. Frustratingly so.

"Frank, I really want you." You tell him in all lucidity.

He licks across his lips at your confirmation, making the damp spot in your panties grow as he lets his eyes rove over you.

"Well, I'm gonna take you to bed then. C'mon." He says as he encourages you to your feet and guides you up the stairs.

You shimmy off your pants and socks in between more fervent kisses before he lays you down on his bed, leaving his own on as he lifts your foot and starts kissing his way up the inside of your ankle and calf. You part your legs wider to make space for him and his broad shoulders, your heart rate increasing by bounds as you anticipate his next move.

"Mm, s'this okay sweetheart?" He checks in as he nears the juncture of your thighs, his beard brushing the sensitive skin there, "Can I take these off?" He adds, and you hum in the affirmative as his dark eyes meet yours and he smiles. "Been just dyin' to taste you..." You flush with heat at his purred confession and lift your hips as he hooks his fingers around the waistband so he can pull your underwear down. He kisses your mound softly when he returns, taking his time.

"Anytime you want me to stop," he says before lightly kissing your clit and you let out a shuddered breath. "You just tell me baby, okay?" You nod and moan out loud when he begins to lap his tongue right between your glistening folds. You know you'll never want him to stop.

Your body writhes as he continues with wide slow licks between your thighs, relaxing as it's clear he more than knows what he's doing. You whimper, jolting unexpectedly as he begins flicking the hardened tip of his tongue over your clit before softening it again and repeating, swirling, sucking and worshiping your almost steadily dripping cunt like it's a fountain in the desert. When your thighs press in bracketing his head at a particularly sensitive touch, he wraps his big paws around you, fingers greedily switching between kneading the soft flesh of your legs and cupping around your ass as he devours you.

The hair of his beard rubs against your skin and the sensation is addictive. You move your hips against his rhythm and he reaches up to take one of your hands that is currently fisting in the sheets to position it on his head, to make you grab his hair and show him exactly what you want.

You gasp as he very quickly and easily hits a pressure and tempo that has you arching your back right off the mattress. Frank groans as you guide him, squeezing your legs around him almost rutting against his face, moaning so deep into your pussy you can feel the vibrations go through you. And just like that every focused movement he makes brings you further pleasure, taking you higher and higher, and seeing and feeling your reaction just keeps him going.

"Attagirl," he praises, briefly raising his head to look at you. Your juices shine on his lips, spread all around his mouth and wetting some of his beard. The sight just makes him look even hotter to you.

"Frank- mmn! God that's so good, please don't stop…"

He would never, diving right back between your quivering thighs and working you up to and over the edge like it's his only purpose. He can't help himself, you're so fucking sexy like this he's almost humping the bed trying to ease the throbbing need that's barely contained in his jeans. He might have thought about you like this before, how you'd sound, how you'd look, but nothing has prepared him for the reality.

He groans long and low as you clamp your legs hard to his head, you're trying not to but you can't stop your hips from rising, can't help fucking yourself hard against his face, but he wants it, encouraging you until your orgasm explodes from within. The intensity shakes you from your very core, rippling through your body in multiple waves as Frank still holds you firmly to him, licking you through it devotedly as he ruts his own hips into the mattress with another sexy moan. He slows down as he feels your tight grip in his hair easing off, his now near-black eyes meeting yours as he pants and licks his lips.

"You okay there darlin'?" His question is sincere but you almost snort with laughter with how fucking good he's made you feel. He can't be real.

"I'm-" you giggle and throw your arm up over your face as you feel nothing but euphoria.

"god, I'm… yeah, yeah I'm okay! Oh… shit. Wow!"

He grins and wipes his face on the sheets before crawling up the bed to lie next to you, and you turn on your side to face him, drawing him into a kiss as you reach for his pants for a second time.

He catches your hands yet again, shaking his head apologetically. "Uh, it was kinda 'oh shit wow' f'me too y'know? It's… been a while."

It takes you a brain-melted second to get his meaning and then a satisfied smile spreads across your lips. "Frankie, you know that's hot, right?"

He laughs falling back on the sheets, a slight blush dusting his cheekbones. "Hmm I dunno bout that, kinda feel like a teenager again, but as long as you're satisfied for now darlin'."

"I think that'll keep me going for a long while!"

"Not too long though, yeah?" Frank turns his head to look your way and try to gauge your meaning, the faintest hint of concern in his tone. This wasn't a one time thing right? It didn't feel like it was.

The corners of your mouth hook upward yet again. "Definitely not too long." you assure him.

Your eyes track up to the large skylight in the roof above the bed as you catch your breath back, watching the moody, inky clouds gently rolling past.

"Must be a fantastic view of the stars when it's clear." You muse, still gazing up as you feel the warmth of Frank's hand slide over your stomach to hold you close to him in the afterglow.

He follows the line of your sight. "Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to install but worth it for sure."

You turn in his arms to face him. "You put that in yourself? Wow, that's something."

He gives a shrug. "Well I always planned for it when I built the place."

You're incredulous. "What? You built this place?!"

Frank just chuckles, smoothing a couple of stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Yeah, haven't always been a ranger. Used to do logging, bit of carpentry. Just thought how hard can it be? Had the idea in my head for a good long while before I had the means and the land to make it happen."

"Frank Castle… I'm officially stunned. That's incredible!" He has the audacity to shrug again like it's nothing and then laughs out loud as he watches your brows draw together.

"Hey, I'm serious! That kinda skill, that's rare. And, I guess it explains this…" you run your fingers over his large biceps, giving them a quick squeeze before smoothing them over his chest.

He hums. "Yeah, only some of it, have to thank the gym for the rest."

You grin as he pushes up on an elbow, leaning his head on his hand as he traces slightly ticklish patterns over your skin as he regards you as if you're a goddess.

"And what about all this darlin'? What about you? You're somethin' special."

You shake your head but he's determined to make his feelings known to you.

"M'serious. Y'know I was totally shittin' it thinking about askin' you here, askin' you out? Was too damn scared you might not say yes."

You can't imagine Frank being scared of much, and you don't know how you could ever say no. Even before the sex.

"Well, I did say yes," you point out as you lean over to kiss him. He still tastes of you and the memory of the intimacy you'd shared is fresh in your mind. "...and I'm really glad that I did."

"Hm, well I better give the dogs their dinners," Frank muses as he strokes at your side, "and make ours too I guess..." he adds with a smile as your stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't think I was that hungry until you mentioned dinner!"

Frank grins as he pushes himself up, grabbing a couple of clean towels from the cupboard near the bed. "Alright, m'gonna clean up real quick and make us somethin'. If you wanna have a long shower while I cook you go right on ahead darlin', there's plenty of hot water."

You smile as you stretch out under his ridiculously comfortable covers, watching his gorgeous ass disappearing into the bathroom as you call after him. "I'm loving the sound of that idea!"

[witnessmyart]

Happy Birthday, dear Jon!

It's also another entry for Beardthal Bash :)

Special thanks to @darlingshane for the refernce pic <3

[bernthirst-events]

BEARDTHAL BASH 2023

Hello fellow Bernthirsters!

After starting the year with a bang of gorgeous Jontent, we are finally back with a brand-new event. 

We are making it extra special, since the “main character” of this event will be Jon’s infamous Beard (yes, it deserves a capital B). There won’t be a theme a day this time. The only rule will be that whatever you create MUST include the Beard. Shave it off? Grow it longer? Pull on it? Burn from it? Everything is up to YOU!  

Since we didn’t do anything last September, we chose to have this event around his birthday month to celebrate the man we all love and thirst over. 

To help with inspiration, we included a list of prompts below. 

Ready? Set… Thirst!

SUGGESTED PROMPTS: Beard Burn, Stubble, Grooming, Beard & Curls, Trimming, Petting the beard, Beard products, Not a hipster, Lumberjack, On the lam, New Identity, Beard Contest, Beard Challenge, Prickling hairs, Flowery beard, Tangled, Barbershop, Shaving accident, Cozy, Scruffy, Fluffy, Bushy, Goatee, Grey Hairs…

BEARDED CHARACTERS: Frank Castle, Sam Rossi, Griff, The Mute, Swaino, Michael Berzatto. (You don't have to stick to these, you can easily give Shane a beard if you want.)

Deadline: September 18 - September 24.  

Tumblr Tag: BeardthalBash

AO3 Collection: BeardthalBash2023

POSTING GUIDELINES

[kwistowee]

#bookworm Beardthal Bash 2023 THE PUNISHER | 1.01

[darlingshane]

Jon Bernthal & Kelsey Asbille in WIND RIVER (2017) for ✨BEARDTHAL BASH✨

[chellestrash]

Habits to break

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank comes back from a job and once again you're the only person he can ask for help.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Strong language, angst, blood, strong language, mentions of violence.

A/N: Day three for the @bernthirst-events BeardthalBash. Frank again! Thank you @chelseasdagger for the help, couldnt have done it without you!

No plans. That was the plan for the night. Nothing to do, nothing to think about, just you, your TV and a couple of big blankets on your couch. Frank made sure to let you know beforehand that he would be ‘handling some bullshit’ job today, so you assumed you weren't supposed to sit and wait for him. You knew he'd be okay, he always was… Still, it was difficult to just tell yourself to go to sleep; to get in bed when you know he is away, close your eyes, and just pretend everything was completely fine. No matter how much he'd reassure you and no matter how much you trusted him with this, it never really got easier.

You do your best to keep your mind busy. With a TV show in the background, you get around to some of the work related things that need to be dealt with. With multiple things around you to focus on, you managed to keep your thoughts in place, keep your mind occupied for the better part of the evening. 

That is, until now. Looking towards the front door, a response to the quiet click of the main lock, you breathe out deeply, relieved. Frank grunts loudly, stepping into the apartment before you hear the heavy duffle bag hit the wooden floor. You smile, watching him wrestle with his combat boots in the dark for a moment, and you part your lips to greet him but the words freeze, stuck in your throat the second Frank hits the light switch.

“Shit.”

His eyes meet yours, and it's clear he didn't expect you to still be awake, waiting for him. No matter how many times it happened before, he still never let himself expect this of you. The light, despite his wishes, reveals his current state to you and your stomach drops instantly. His face, hair and beard are covered in bruises and blood, some of it dried, some of it still fresh. Same with his knuckles, his hand shaking slightly. The dark stains now impeded in the fabric of his clothes, the few bandages now soaked in the maroon liquid tied around his upper arm.

A frustrated:

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frank.”

Is all you manage to muster up as you push yourself off the couch and quickly cross the living room to get to him.

“Are you-”

“I'm fine.”

He cuts you off quickly and attempts to squeeze past you. But you stand your ground, blocking the way and not letting him brush this whole thing off like he usually would.

“Doesn't fucking look fine.”

You try to keep your eyes on his, but he never looks at you. His gaze focuses on nothing in particular, just off into the distance, past your head.

He mumbles and in a perfect representation of the irony of the universe, a dark drop of blood drips from his nose and onto the wooden floor. You quickly reach up to grab his face and make him look up at you, but Frank Castle is not really a great choice when it comes to practicing your reflexes with. In one quick motion he dodges your hand and his fingers wrap around your wrist. He's faster than you are, stronger, but he glares down at you into your eyes, unintentionally giving you what you wanted. 

“Frank.”

You speak up firmly, glancing around his face. Your eyes scan the damage in more detail now that you got him to look at you. The dark, multicolor bruises look deeper than the ones you'd normally see on him. The cut on the bridge of his nose as well as the one on his lips are now dried. But the blood from his nose is still fresh, slowly dripping down just to stop on his dark facial hair. Even with the thick beard, you see his jaw tighten as you move your hand closer to his face. 

“Frank, this doesn't look fine.”

You point out, and he lets go of your wrist. The guilt grows heavy in his chest as your voice shifts from angry and frustrated to clearly worried. 

“Just let me do this, okay?”

Your voice softens even more when you notice him actually trying to listen to you, not just acting on his Frank Castle pride. He swallows hard, closing his eyes, and you watch his jaw tighten before he nods slowly, his eyes focusing on something behind you again.

“Yeah?”

Asking again you want to ensure it's a conscious decision, something he thought through and wasn't just pushed to accept.

His features soften and his shoulders drop. His eyes scan around your face, his lips part slightly, but the words never leave his mouth. He doesn't have to say it, not this time. You know now that he means it.

“Okay.”

You agree, nodding in the direction of the living room.

“Right, couch.”

Without a word, Frank makes his way over to the couch while you step into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. After taking the necessary precautions to make sure everything is as sanitary as possible, you set all the tools down on the table. Frank straightens up slightly, clearing his throat while he watches you prep everything. You go over the list in your head. At this point, you've done it enough times you're pretty sure you'd be able to stitch him together with your eyes closed. Turning to face him again, you scan over the clothes on Frank's body. Once again, your attention focuses on the deep, dark stains in the fabric.

“Yours?”

You ask, throwing your leg over his lap in an effort to get closer to the wound and bruises on his face.

“... Some of it.”

He admits, and you nod slowly, leaving that confession without a smartass comment this time.

“Okay.”

Brining the clean, damp cloth up to his face, you hold his chin up gently with the other hand. Turning his face slowly from side to side, you focus on attempting to clean up the damage as much as you can. 

Focusing too hard to notice the change in Frank's demeanor, you don't see the way his eyes fix on you. Watching as your eyebrows pull together or how you bite down on your lower lip, how your head tilts gently to the side as you offer your time and attention to him. His hands move from the couch to the back of your thighs, holding you firmly close to him. The slow movement of his rough fingers acts as reassurance, a silent confirmation that your presence is wanted.

“Hurts?”

He shakes his head slowly, responding to the quiet question when you switch from the cloth to some disinfecting wipes. 

“How many were there?”

Frank hesitates for a moment and you pause, watching him turn his head to the side. He swallows hard, and once again you feel the tension rise throughout your body.

“Frank.”

"Don't."

"Frank."

You repeat firmly.

"Leave it."

He warns, but you couldn't give a fuck about his intimidation tactics anymore.

"Frank, how many?"

You push, not necessarily sure why you needed to know, but part of you just wanted him to be honest with you this one time.

“Twelve.”

He grunts, a barely audible whisper. 

“Twelve?! Jesus, Frank…”

No response this time. With his jaw clenched, he reaches for the wet cloth in your lap.

“I can do it if-”

“No.”

You pull your hand away quickly. You knew he could handle it, he proved it many times before, but at the same time...there were too many close calls. Too many times you sat by his side, waiting for him to wake up again, unable to even take him to some hospital. Three guys? Four? Shit, you watched Frank take out seven or eight people alone but, fuck, twelve? How?

“No, I got it…always do.”

You focus once again, now visibly upset, brushing your fingers through the curls of his beard and your eyebrows pull together. With a loud sigh, you attempt to get the dried blood out of the thick hair.

“You don't have to-”

“Frank, stop. Just fucking- just stop.”

The room immediately falls completely silent. Frustrated, you damp the cloth into the bowl of warm water again before lifting your hand up to his face again.

“I said I’ll do it. So I will do it, and then I’ll stop fucking bothering you with this. So just fucking, let me do this!”

You finally snap and Frank pulls his hands away, lifting them up, attempting to provide the needed space. Closing your eyes, you sigh loudly before hiding your face in your palms.

The couple of minutes of silence feel like hours as you attempt to slow the pounding in your chest. 

Frank whispers your name softly, carefully. 

“I'm sorry.”

He follows, and you move your hands down, your eyes now on his. There is no attempt to avoid your gaze anymore. His lips parted, his head moving gently from side to side as his breath hitches.

“I'm sorry, okay?”

He continues, his fingers brushing over your wrists gently. 

“I'm sorry about this..I-I-I-”

You let him speak, trying to read his thoughts, to understand what he's trying to say before he actually does. 

“This isn't…I shouldn't just-”

His body is completely tense again as he fumbles with the words, not sure how to properly articulate his own thoughts. 

“I'm just…I'm sorry.”

Although repeated once more, the words never lose their meaning. 

“Don't…don't be, just…”

You manage to get the rest of the blood out of the hair on his face.

“If you die. I'm gonna kill you.”

Glancing up into his eyes again, you catch his small smile and the tight grip inside your chest loosens. 

He nods slowly, pouting as he does. His hands are back on your body, thumbs slowly rubbing against the sides of your body. 

“Make sense.”

“Good.”

With a quiet sigh, you move back to check the progress.

“Done?”

He asks and you blink a couple of times.

“What?”

“Is it-”

“Oh, oh no, you need a fucking shower, Castle. This is not coming off.”

He nods, agreeing with your words, before turning to look towards the bathroom.

"You coming or-"

"Oh don't fucking push it, Frank.”

He swallows hard, nodding slowly one more time.

"Yes, ma'am."

[lucy-sky]

Hipster Frank for #BeardthalBash

[kdogreads]

I’ve got something in the works for our beloved Beardthal Bash and it has me 🥵🥵🥵

[bernthirst-events]

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