#BernthirstPalooza

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Tongue Tied ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: lingerie, passion, striptease, tongue - these were the @bernthirst-events Sensual Saturday prompts I used for this one! Cunnilingus, fingering.

Frank snuck up from behind, sliding his hands around your waist over your shirt, which was actually his flannel, and placing a tender kiss at the small bit of exposed skin at your shoulder. You wanted to pinch yourself again, that he was here and you were safe.

"You want somethin', Mister?" you tease, knowing full well he'd love nothing more than to wind down from work with you, preferably in bed.

"Mm, I got some ideas…" he drawls into your skin, hands start wandering lower to get up under the shirt but you slink out of his hold and walk to the couch, pulling up your sweats a little.

"Sit." You tell him. He cocks an eyebrow and gives you a smirk but obeys all the same, getting comfortable on the cushions, legs spread wide as you stand in front of him just out of reach.

"I like this shirt," you muse as you play with the collar and pluck at the top button just above your chest. "feels good on my skin, smells just like you…"

Frank looks appreciatively at you. "Looks better on you too."

You make a show of undoing the top button, trailing your fingers down lower, slow, watching his focus sharpen on the action, his full attention on you as you toy with the next button at your breastbone. "I think you might just change your mind about that Frankie…"

You run your tongue along your lips as the next button slips free, the edge of your electric blue bra cup just peeking out from underneath as you keep on going.

Frank shifts slightly, eyes still fixed on you like a dog waiting for a command. "You're so goddamn gorgeous, you know that?"

You smile back at him, more and more of the bare skin of your chest and stomach being uncovered as you take your time, drawing your little striptease out. You turn away from him as the shirt finally hangs fully open, looking back over your shoulder as you shrug it off as slowly as you can bear. It crumples to the floor and you smirk as you hear him shifting again in his seat.

"Baby, I-"

He stops as you bend right over, hooking your fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants, peeling them off at a painfully slow pace down over your ass. The reveal of the matching bright blue satiny fabric of your panties has his mouth watering even more.

"Hm…"

You keep on going, pushing the sweats all the way down your legs until you're almost fully folded in half, wondering if he can see just how turned on you are through your underwear bent over like this.

"Fuck…" he growls as you slowly stand back up and step out of the puddled fabric, kicking it to one side and turning back around, sliding your hands up your body to cup your breasts through the bra.

"Mm, this feels nice on me too."

You almost laugh as Frank's mouth hangs open before he reaches for you, his big hands twitching, grabbing and wrapping around your wrists pulling you into his lap as he honey-drips the words you were waiting for.

"C'mere…"

You happily straddle his hips, almost purring as his warm hands roam over your upper body, exploring and smoothing over the soft satin of your new lingerie.

"Like it?" You inquire, nibbling at his thumb as his hand comes up to cradle the side of your face.

He tilts his head up, whispering his answer into your lips.

"You look good enough to eat." He says, kissing you with a passion that ignites the fire in your core. "And goddamn I am gonna fuckin' devour you, sweetheart…"

"Right answer." you breathe, closing your eyes as he dips his head to your chest and starts kissing over the swell of your breasts. Your hands wander down, stroking over the firm outline of his cock pressing against his jeans. He gladly lets you fondle and play while he mouths over the soft fabric of your bra cup, quickly bringing your nipple to a peak, but waves your hands away when you reach for his belt buckle.

"Nah nah, not just yet princess." He pulls your legs tightly around him and stands, easily holding and carrying you to the bedroom, littering your lips and upper body with hot kisses on the way until you squeal as he plops you down on the bed, prowling on top of you.

You arch your back, sighing with pleasure as he pulls the pretty satin and mesh cups down letting your tits spill out, pushing them up against his mouth, his hands gliding over your skin setting you ablaze as he sucks and nibbles.

There's no better sound than hearing you moan out his name in anticipation and need as he works his way down, his mouth following his hands, tongue out trailing wet and hot down the centerline of your body as you writhe at his touch. He loves having you like this, wants all of you at once, wants to breathe you in, feel you beneath him. He's aching to taste you.

You're expecting him to rip your panties right off but he just curls his fingers over the waistband and holds them there as his lips continue their journey down under your navel and over the thin fabric covering your pussy.

"Baby," he murmurs between kisses, his tongue laving over it, slowly dampening through your panties, "baby, baby…"

You smile but your frustration is building. "Aw c'mon Frankie, don't tease!"

He prods the tip of his tongue against you, rubbing at your sex and you wriggle in his grasp.

"Don't see why it's just you that gets to do all the teasin'," he moves back up your body to kiss the sweet spot just below your ear before the deep growl of his voice so close makes you shiver. "You know I like hearin' you beg…"

You guide him back to your lips momentarily and then push down by his shoulders. "Go on then, do your worst."

He grins and disappears back down between your legs, spreading them apart to place a slow trail of light kisses from the inside of your knee up to your inner thigh, avoiding where you really want him for what seems like hours. All the while his fingers occasionally brush the sensitive skin at the crease of your hip, and you feel the damp heat of his breath just above your covered core and you're squirming.

"Okay okay! Th-that's enough, please, need your mouth on me Frankie, now."

You gasp in relief as he finally slides your soaked panties down your legs. He hitches each one up over his shoulders as he shimmies up closer, splaying his huge hands over your hips to hold you in place. The first proper touch of his tongue on your bare pussy has you melting with a soft moan. He kitten licks between your folds, working his way up and teasing your aching clit with a slow purposeful swirl and suck making you groan and grind your hips against his mouth. He builds you up to the edge so fast it almost feels like whiplash when he suddenly stops.

"Taste so damn good princess," he tells you, his eyes blown almost black and the lower half of his face glistening with the sheen of you as he licks his lips.

"Frank please, please don't stop, don't stop-" you reach for him and he smiles before snaking out his tongue and flicking it over your clit hard, holding you down firm as you moan loud when he suckles and licks and fucks you with his mouth so good you think you're gonna black out.

"That's a good girl, such a fucking good girl f'me. You want my fingers too babygirl? Want me to fuck you with em?"

You keen at his praise, nodding, panting and moaning even louder as he soon slides two thick fingers into your velvet heat and starts massaging your pussy walls. You know he's grinning as you whimper and grip at the sheets, desperately bucking your hips into his hand as much as you can while his other hand is holding you down. His easy strength turns you on and the more you fight against him the firmer he is with you. You love it and he damn well knows, teasing you again with light soft kisses and gentle curls of his fingers holding you there when you want him to go hard.

"Shh, s'alright baby," he soothes as he starts fucking you faster and rubbing his thumb over your throbbing clit. "I know what you need."

He does, and he gives it to you, fucking his fingers in and out so hard you're almost ashamed of the slick, wet noises but it doesn't matter as they're soon drowned out by your cries as your orgasm swallows you up, blooming like an exploding flower of white hot bliss, pulsing through your body from the center of your core as you clench and flutter around him.

"Fuck princess, attagirl, that's it, cum f'me beautiful…" Frank watches you fall apart like it's the first time, he'll never get bored of it. It's so intense, wringing you out so completely that you have tears in your eyes just because of how good you feel.

You hum, starting to laugh as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm and Frank kisses you all the way back up to your lips and takes you in his arms.

"Fuck, you're so damn sexy when you do that."

You return his relaxed smile, running your hand lazily through his already messed up hair.

"Well, it wasn't all me. I had some help y'know."

"Anytime. Love to make you feel that way. And you can keep on wearin' my shirts if it's gonna wind up like this."

.

.

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[darlingshane]

sweet revenge

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2k

Summary: You and Shane sleep together to get back at your respective exes.

Content/Warnings: explicit, smut, car sex, revenge fuck, angst.

A/N: I made this for @bernthirst-events using the prompt – revenge fuck. It's a little different from what I usually write, but I hope you like it.

– Read below or at AO3.

Bad choices don't necessarily make you a bad person as long as those choices don't hurt other people, you’ve always believed.

What you’re about to do might take you to cross that hypothetical line that kept you from considering yourself a bad person. But after all the events that led you to this point, you don’t give a flying fuck. You've been hurt too often by other people's choices that it's your turn to make something so incredibly reckless that will royally piss some people off… Like sleeping with Shane Walsh.

“Are you completely sure you wanna do this?”

“Are you?”

You ask each other, half naked, in the back of his cruiser before proceeding any further with your plan.

Too hot and bothered to back out now, with no regrets, you nod and seize his mouth as he opens his buckle and zipper to seal the deal you made about getting back at your respective duplicitous exes.

It all started a few weeks ago when you caught Shane's girlfriend cheating on him with your ex-boyfriend. She wasn't just his girlfriend, but she was also one of your best friends, in fact. Not only did she manage to break Shane's heart, but she violated an unspoken friendship code and the common sense of not hooking up with your friend's in the process.

Regardless of you and your ex being broken up before that day, – discovering their filthy lie was a low blow that still hurts like hell.

Blinded by rage, after being witness to that moment of indiscretion, you picked up the phone, called Shane, and spared no detail about what just had happened. Someone had to, cause that hag wasn’t going to do it, and he deserved to know. Admittedly, you were never Shane's biggest fan to begin with, but you felt sorry for him. For what you knew, he was completely in love with your friend, and he was just something to toy with cause she had nothing better to do. That’s how she always treated guys, and up until that day, you never said anything cause you had your own stuff to deal with, and you were never the one to stick your nose where it didn’t belong, but it was about time for her to get a taste of her own medicine.

A few days later, you found out that Shane had beat the crap out of your ex. The deputy was arrested and released the day after, and indefinitely suspended from the department.

Two weeks after his arrest, you stumbled upon him at the grocery store in the evening, and he looked miserable trying to pick up between the amount of cereal boxes along the aisle.

“I like Cocoa Puffs,” you pointed at the box in one of the lower shelves to break the ice.

He sighed and glanced at you, “yeah, I like those too. I was just in the mood for something else… any suggestions?”

“Hm, cinnamon toast is my second favorite.”

He considered it for a second before reaching and grabbing a box of those per your suggestion. Then you both continued shopping on your own.

Later, you saw him at the parking lot after loading your groceries in your car.

“Hey,” you stopped by his truck while he put his bags on the flatbed, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Why?” he scoffed, “wasn’t your fault, darlin’. You didn’t sleep with her, didn’t you?”

“No, but it wasn’t my place to tell.”

“Maybe it wasn’t, but I’m glad you did.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know,” his head sank into his shoulders quickly, ���I guess cause you were hurt by it too, and you went straight to the cold, hard facts. That took guts.”

“I was a little harsh.”

“You weren’t. I always thought you were a pushover, y’know? But you proved me wrong.”

“Ouch. I always thought you were an asshole,” you quipped back, leaning against his car.

“Sometimes I am, but I’d never cheat on anyone,” he admitted, honestly. “Look, it’s no secret that I like sleeping around, but when I’m in a relationship– I’m a hundred percent in.”

“Are you guys getting back together?”

He scoffed, and gave it a thought, “would you consider getting back with your ex after that?”

You shook your head.

“I didn't think so. Me neither. I'm done with her. She's like the fucking antichrist.”

“It suits her,” you laughed softly at his chosen nickname.

“You should've heard the things she said about you.”

“Save it, I don't need to know,” you paused. “Are you gonna be okay with your job and all?”

“Yeah,” he ran a hand over his hair, “I think I will.”

After parting that evening, you started texting from time to time. You were never that close, but something clicked that day between you two in that little exchange that led you to this particular night when you bumped into the other once more.

You were hanging with a couple of friends after work at your local bar when the bartender brought you a complimentary beer from a guy sitting at the counter. You glanced over your shoulder and saw the deputy back in his uniform, tilting his beer bottle in your direction. You beckoned him, and he joined your little group.

Quickly, you started talking and joking about getting back at both your exes somehow. You were both still bitter about it, and of course it kept coming up in all your conversations.

At first, you thought it was a joke when Shane suggested you should sleep together to even things out.

An eye for an eye and all – he said.

You and Shane, sleeping together? It was the most absurd idea someone’s ever had. It made you burst into laughter initially; but as the night progressed, it made more sense. It’s a fitting punishment for a treacherous crime, you deemed.

Halfway into making up your mind, you glanced at Shane once more when he strutted out of the bathroom with his uniform shirt half unbuttoned, showing a black tee underneath well hugged around his chest. To be honest, he isn’t completely gross physically. You've always found him hot. It’s the way he sometimes talks that has kept you from seeing that he’s actually sweet as well.

Once he got back to the table, you bit your lower lip and tilted your head in the direction of the door, conveying silently with just one look – I need to be railed by you, right now. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong.

He quickly grasped it and took your hand as he licked the corner of your mouth before guiding you out towards the car.

You couldn't blame it on the alcohol because you barely took a couple of sips of your beer. It was the dangerous determination in Shane's eyes, boring nothing but dark lust and vengeance, that convinced you. You’ve never seen him like that, and you're still not sure if it’s all about revenge or that he actually likes you. You wouldn't hold it against him if it was a bit of both, cause that’s exactly how you feel right now in this unrehearsed dance of ripping each other’s clothes, clawing each other’s skin, and mauling each other’s mouth in the confined space of the backseat of the cruiser, parked on the side of the road, away from prying eyes.

It’s thrilling to have that rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, knowing that you’re doing something so wrong, but so rightfully earned, and not giving a damn about it.

A whole new world opens right in front of your eyes, and right between your legs when you stop kissing him to sink onto his cock for the first time. You shudder at how big he feels once he’s fully sheathed inside your slickness. He’s hard as rock and big enough to fill and stretch your walls a little more than you're used to.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he can barely get those words out, as your hips slowly wave back and forth.

As you get used to the generous size of his erection filling you up to the hilt, he presses his parted lips against yours.

Unexpectedly, you both thrive and savor every second of it as you explore and seek that ultimate pleasure that comes from your bodies tangled together.

“God, you feel so good,” you purr on his lips, hands clutched to his neck; having his large palms holding your ass, aiding your moves as you switch to bouncing uncontrollably on his lap.

“Not as good as you, darlin’,” he groans, breathlessly, “you’re so fucking wet.”

Then, his tongue juts out and traces the shape of your mouth before devouring your lips like a maniac, stealing your moans and hums. If you’re desperate, he’s viciously focused on sucking the life out of you with great vehemence. His delicious kisses and grunts muddle your mind, and you can barely keep your thoughts straight as you inch closer to that aching point where your legs strain to keep going.

“Fuck, sweetheart, just a little more,” he pants, barely pulling away from your lips, “please, please, keep going for me.”

Holding on tight to him, you exert yourself a little longer as your hips roll with reckless abandon until that bomb made out of pure pleasure, expanding at your core, explodes. Your body shivers and your mind turns to mush, gladly overtaken by a wave of electric joy that awakens every cell of your body from head to toe. And right after you come, the wild pressure of your opening contracting around him has Shane spurting his seed inside you in a matter of seconds.

To be completely honest, there was never anything greater between your legs than Shane Walsh, you come to realize. As uncomfortable as the car is, it’s barely a nuisance below how amazing that orgasm is. How your once-friend would ever give that up is beyond you.

Slowly coming back to your senses, you sweetly smile, noticing that your forehead is pressed to Shane’s shoulder as his chest rises and falls under your palms.

There isn’t a sliver of guilt or shame after you’re done and put your clothes back on. The only thing that’s new is a desire of not wanting this night to be over, so when the deputy drives you home, you invite him for a second round.

“Too bad they’ll never know what we did,” you express, relaxing on top of Shane’s broad chest, with your hand under your chin, like it was the most casual thing you’ve ever done since you met him.

“But we do,” he smiles tiredly, “did it make you feel better?”

“Uh-hm. That was the point, right? Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I do,” his fingers brush your cheek, pulling you for a chaste kiss before shifting on the bed and having you on your back against the mattress as he slithers down your body, pushing your knees apart to have a little taste of you. You fix a pillow under your head as the adventurous tip of his tongue traces every inch of your sex, slowly. His arms curl around your thighs, as you weave your fingers in his curls, quietly enjoying the mind-blowing attention of the tip of his tongue when it circles your clit. He teases it, flicks it, and licks it before allowing his lips to wrap around it. Lazily sucking that bundle of nerves, he delivers a pleasant buzz that runs all over your body, and earns himself a new symphony of hums, moans, and curses at his name.

As your mind reaches cloud nine for a third time, the delicious pressure of his lips changes, sucking harder and harder, until you’re met with a calming relief once the orgasm hits.

Shane climbs back up to the head of the bed and presses his slick-covered lips against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips, so you can have a taste of yourself, reminding you that payback never tasted sweeter.

[chelseasdagger]

Clean

Frank Castle x GN!Reader

Summary: Frank comes home after jogging with a weighted vest and seeing how sweaty he is, you can’t resist

Warnings: slightly smutty, pretty brief

Author’s Note: My submission for @bernthirst-events​ prompt Wet Wednesday! I had this idea for a while and knew this was the perfect excuse to write it CJSDKSK! Oh, and this is the vest Frank is wearing :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Frank was always coming up with new ways to push his strength. You had bare witness to the different exercises he’d done over the years and even been used as equipment, like the time he had you sit on his back while he did pushups. Though the most memorable thing he’s done in the name of strength had to be when he tied a cinder block around his waist during his pull ups. You can recall the way your thighs pressed together while you watched the metal chain move under his flexing, sweaty skin. It was hard to sit through, hearing the loud grunting as he worked his body, but after what felt like years you were able to get your hands on him and show him exactly what his display made you feel.

He hadn’t expressed any concerns with his stamina to you, but you noticed the changes he’s been implementing. It started with the increased appetite, but you just assumed he was going on a bulk to gain more muscle. Then came the extra sets in his workouts; you weren’t sure if you were imagining it initially, but after asking him he reassured you it was just a few more and that he was fine.

Despite these somewhat obvious signs, you’re still shocked to see him when he comes back home from a jog. The sound of the door shutting brought your attention away from your phone and you look up to see him leaning against the doorframe. His labored breaths are heavy as he pants, his head hung low as he presses the toes of one foot to the heel of the other. He steps out of his shoes quickly and walks to the couch.

Your eyes never leave him as he sinks down to sit beside you. Frank’s body deflates into the cushion next to you, his elbow propped up on the arm rest as he holds his forehead in his hand. He typically gets winded after his afternoon jogs, but you’ve never seen him quite this breathless just from cardio. With each breath of air his chest only expands but so far, the weighted vest heavy against him.

“Are you okay, Frank? Here, let me get you some water,” you stand up before he can even answer your question. You turn into the kitchen and reach for a glass on the drying rack, swiftly filling it with water and walking back to the living room. He hasn’t moved an inch and his chest is still heaving.

You gently grab his other wrist to guide the cup into his hand and watch as he props himself up on the couch. He mutters a small thanks under his breath, eyes shut as he tilts his head back and down the water quickly. As he drinks, it’s hard not to stare as his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows the water. His throat moves under the flushed skin of his neck, the slight pink hue evident underneath all of the sweat. The view has you swallowing, unintentionally mimicking him, and you try your best to look away.

Frank lets out a sigh once he’s finished with the glass and hands it back to you. You stand up to refill his cup but he grabs your wrist gently, silently telling you not to worry about it. Sitting back down, you decide the next thing to do is to take off the vest so he can get a proper breath in. You lean over him, reaching for the velcro strap at his side, the ripping sound echoing out as you tug it open. Your fingers curl around the bottom, getting ready to lift it over his head when you see something that makes you freeze.

The droplets of sweat from his neck are slowly rolling down his skin, disappearing under the hem of his vest. The sight has you licking your lips involuntarily and noticing every other drop that has never looked so tempting before. Frank doesn’t catch on to what’s made you stall, but he assumes it’s the weight of the vest.

You snap out of your gaze, slightly startled, as his fingers quickly grab at the edge of the vest. He brings in three quick breaths, mustering up his strength, and raising the vest up and away from his chest. You help pull his arms through and lift it completely off of his wide, broad shoulders.

“Oh my god…” you trail off, staring at the inside of the vest. The part that was facing him is drenched, the black fabric having an even darker splotch in the center. You turn your attention back to him and finally see his bare chest. Sweat decorates every inch of his torso, even more perspiration gathered where he was covered by the fabric. His body glistens under the light and you become mesmerized by the way each breath he takes makes more of him shine.

You can’t explain what exactly comes over you, but your mouth waters the longer you stare. An idea pops into your head, but you glance up to his face to check on him before fulfilling your own needs.

Frank’s eyes are still shut and his lips are parted as he focuses on his breathing. His eyebrows are slightly pulled together, a display of the stress his body has just been put through. You’d hate to bother him, but you think maybe relaxing and letting you take control might be exactly what he needs.

It’s the last push you need to lean over him once more and bring your face to the crook of his neck. You slowly drag your nose up over his throat, feeling the heat radiating off of his skin. Hesitantly, you let your tongue push past your lips and lick over his neck.

The clean, salty taste hits you hard, but the deep groan he lets out goes straight to the pit of your stomach. You immediately go in once again, running your tongue flat along the new goosebumps that are growing under your wet touch.

“What’re you—,” Frank begins to ask, but is cut off by the hitch of his own breath. You move your lips down, licking across his collarbone and running your tongue over the dip between the two of them. The cool air strikes the wet patch you had licked over his neck and the feeling makes him hiss between his teeth.

Taking advantage of him while he’s distracted, you throw one knee over his thigh and settle yourself on top of him. Seeing him like this and hearing his groans has you needing attention between your legs, so you decide to take care of it yourself so he can relax. He’s finally opening his eyes once he feels you drag yourself against him. Too exhausted to move, his hands reach for your hips and help rock you back and forth. 

Each time you drag your tongue along his smooth skin, you’re rewarded with a deep sigh or a rumbly groan. The sounds he’s letting out heats up the fire burning in your lower stomach and you don’t even register the way you’re grinding against his leg harder. You move slightly lower, placing wet, sloppy kisses over his chest. The salty taste only grows stronger on your tongue and you know you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

When your fingers brush over his nipples, he lets out a loud grunt as his stomach tightens and you can’t help but smile as you continue feeling over his body. You love how sensitive he is there, and always find a way to sneakily tease him just to hear what new sound you could pull from him. Your mouth drags over his chest some more, feeling the muscles under his skin tighten from your wet lips. 

You chuckle against his sweaty skin, loving how sensitive he got when you showed him the same attention he gives you. Frank was generally good at giving affection but wasn’t the best at receiving it, in all senses of the word. He was especially poor at receiving attention to more sensitive areas like his thighs and chest. Even now, his whole torso is flushed in a dusty pink color under his wet skin.

His hips give a faint roll forward and you pull away with a grin, pleased to see the effect you have on him. You let your mouth lead the way, licking trails down his salty stomach and pressing another wet kiss right below his belly button. Once again, the muscles clench tightly under his skin and you decide you’ve done enough teasing.

Getting down from his thigh, you slowly sink to your knees and push his own apart. He looks so good like this: bulge straining against his workout shorts, stomach shining from sweat and spit, and his eyes staring down at you, half shut from lust. Satisfied with your work, you slowly rub your hands up the insides of his thighs. Your palm brushes over his clothed cock and you see the way his hips push the slightest bit towards you.

“Easy, Frankie. I got you,” you reassure him with a small laugh, your hands curling around his waistband. You tug the shorts down past his hips and place one small, last kiss to his knee. Flashing him a wicked grin, you continue, “Trust me.”

[lucy-sky]

Loving You Easy (Shane Walsh x f!Reader)

Scandalous Sunday prompt - being caught

My last story for @bernthirst-events​‘s Bernthirst Palooza, woohooo! I did it :DD

Sometimes a little bit of music can bring miracles into your life. Even in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Warnings: flirting and sort of mutual pining; ALMOST smut

A/N: this is a request from my dear friend @skvatnavle​ - I’m not sure if that’s exactly what you expected, but that’s what I came up with :) Hope it’s fine and you enjoy it.

Words: 1709; AO3 link if you prefer reading there.

When you noticed this little thing during another supply run, you could hardly believe your eyes, even though there was nothing extraordinary about it. Just a little MP3-player with small earbuds. As you pick it up from the dirty floor, you were wondering how it ended up here. Maybe some of the customers dropped it as they escaped the store, panic stricken, someone kicked it and it stayed there behind the counter until you found it. Or maybe the device used to belong to the cashier, and they listened to it during the dull night shift hours when there wasn’t much work to do. This thing had a history you’d never learn, but you couldn’t have left it there. So you put it into your pocket before answering Shane’s voice calling for you.

Later at night, lying on your bed, you put on the earbuds and press the play button on the little device. The screen lightens up, but only to show you the low battery sign before going dark again. You sigh. What did you expect? This thing was covered in dust, it’s been lying there for… Months? And of course there are no new batteries among your supplies at the moment. You got up and checked the drawers in your room, also with no success. Shit. Oh, wait a second. What if Shane got some during today’s run? Asking won’t hurt, right?

Walking out into the corridor, you glance at the door of his room, relieved to to notice the light pouring from the chink at the doorstep. So you tap gently on the door, before gingerly opening it and looking inside.

“Hey, Walsh,” you ask quietly. “You awake?”

“Hey,” he yawns, putting aside the book he was reading. “What’s up, darlin’?”

There were times you used to hate him calling you “darlin’” or “princess” or “sweetheart”, but at some point you got used to these nicknames, as well as you got used to him. He can be an asshole sometimes, but he has never hurt you in any way possible, plus the smug bastard is pretty attractive, you have to admit. You know the reality you live in is not the best place for flirting. You also know the man had history with Lori, and probably with Andrea as well, but somehow it doesn’t repulse you. You all are only human after all, trying to survive in your own ways.

“I was just wondering, did you grab any batteries today?”

“I think so, yeah,” Shane gives you a curious look. “What’s that?”

“Could I uh… Borrow a couple? My flashlight is dying, so…”

“Right. Okay, sure,” he sits down, reaching for his backpack, fishes a set of batteries out of it. “There ya go.”

“Thanks, Walsh,” you smile. “I owe you for those.”

“‘S okay. You keep trippin’ on stuff in the daylight, I don’t want you to break your neck in the dark,” he chuckles.

“Oh fuck you, Walsh,” you huff.

“Good night to you too, sweetheart!”

You don’t know exactly why you lied to him about that flashlight. Somehow the MP3-player didn’t seem like an… important enough reason. Walsh would definitely make even more fun of you if he knew what you really need those batteries for.

The next day you’re in charge of washing the dishes after the dinner. The farmhouse is empty - everyone went out to do their chores. A perfect opportunity to turn on the music.

Once you switch the player on, you instantly realize how much you’ve missed it. Not some song or band in particular - just music. Any music in general.

♫ “No makeup on and shining so bright

My old sweatshirt never fit so right

Dancing around to the radio

Humming the words that you don't know” ♫

Zac Brown sings this cheesy love song in your ears, and if you close your eyes, it’s somehow so easy to imagine that none of this has happened. No walkers, no deaths, no goddamn end of the world - it was just a really long nightmare, and now you’re in your kitchen again, humming to familiar tunes from the radio. 

Smiling to yourself, you start working, swaying to the music and singing to yourself as you’re done with another bowl. Too lost in the music, you almost drop the plates you’re holding as your back bumps into someone. Swiftly turning around, you meet familiar brown eyes and a cheeky smirk.

“Shane, what the fuck? You scared the shit out of me!” you groan, pushing him in the chest.

“So that’s why you needed those batteries, huh?” he raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. “I knew it’s not the goddamn flashlight!”

“Yeah, so what?” your cheeks start to burn, but you refuse to admit your embarrassment. “I deserve a little something that makes me feel happy and alive, and I’m not gonna apologize for that!”

“Whoa, easy, darlin’,” Shane chuckles, raising his hands in a surrender gesture. “Didn’t say you should apologize for anything, did I? I actually really enjoyed seeing you dancing like that.”

“Oh, so you enjoyed it, yeah?” you smirk back at him. “Well, you know what? It’s not some kind of a show for you, Walsh. C’mon. Join me.”

With this you take one of the earbuds off and hand it to him.

“Hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I-I’m not really a good dancer.”

“I don’t give a shit. You already saw me being silly, now it’s your turn.”

“Alright,” he nods, stepping closer and putting the earbud on. You press play and Zac Brown’s voice continues singing his song.

♫ “You make loving you easy

You make loving you all I wanna do

Every little smile and every little touch

Reminds me how just how much it all makes

Loving you easy” ♫

“Come on, man, relax. Feel the rhythm!” you encourage playfully, grabbing his hand. “It’s easy, right?”

You both move a bit awkwardly at first, but then the magic happens. Shane’s free hand finds your waist, pulling you closer as you sway to the music together. There’s something so intimate about sharing a pair of earbuds and dancing around the kitchen like that, something way too romantic for this whole setting, this new reality. Romantic, but also the closer he gets the more your cheeks flush, and your heart beats a little faster when your eyes meet.

“See, you’re not that bad,” you say, trying to play it cool, to not give away how flustered you really are.

“Yeah, you think?” his voice is a little raspy, it somehow gives you shivers. “You know what, sweetheart?”

“What?” you breathe out as his thumb gently reaches your chin, tilting your face up.

“You still owe me for those batteries, remember?”

“I remember you said it’s fine.”

“Changed my mind, I guess,” he chuckles softly and leans in. The touch of his lips is unexpectedly tender at first, but as you open up to him, the kiss becomes deeper, way more heated and passionate. You let out a quiet moan as his tongue slips past your parted lips, shamelessly exploring your mouth. You respond with equal eagerness, your hand reaching the back of his neck as you gently nip on his lower lip. It’s been so long since the last time you had a make-out session like that, it was somewhere in previous life, and now you can’t get enough. Neither of you can. 

The earbuds already fell out of your ears, your sighs and barely heard moans the only music left. Shane keeps gently pushing you until your butt hits the cabinet next to the sink, and he urges you to sit on it. His lips are already trailing down the curve of your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, while his hand squeezes your bare thigh - you mentally thank the summer heat that made you wear a light dress today. But when his fingers find a way under the skirt of the said dress, it suddenly hits you.

“Shane… Shane! W-wait…” you whisper frantically, pushing him away. He pulls back frowning, dark eyes examining your face.

“I uh… Don’t think it’s a good idea. Someone can walk in,” you tell him in a shaky voice, heart still racing.

“Nah, c’mon, sweetheart… No one’s around,” he leans in again, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck, then right under your ear. “I know you want that as much as I do…” 

You shiver as his fingers reach your underwear, pressing against your already shamelessly wet center.

“I can feel it.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he carefully strokes you through the fabric of your underwear, his lips back on your neck - shit, he’s gonna give you a hickey if he keeps going like that… But damn, it feels too good. So you surrender. You let those curious digits get under the crotch of your panties, dip between your folds, find a little throbbing bud there. Your toes curl in pleasure when he touches you where you need it the most, your head spinning. In the heat of a moment you blindly reach between his legs, palming him through his jeans, causing him to groan into the crook of your neck.

“Hey, y/n!”

You’re quick to push Shane away the moment you hear Beth’s voice.

“You need any help with those di-” she stumbles, surprised to see someone else with you in the room.

“No, um… Shane’s already helping me,” you reply, quickly grabbing the nearest pyramid of plates and shoving it in the man’s hands. “Thank you, Beth.”

“Oh… Okay,” she gives you a slightly awkward smile, “See you later than.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, smiling back. 

As she leaves, you finally glance at Shane, and his baffled expression makes you snort a laugh.

“Oh, you find it funny, do ya?” He tries to sound angry, but his voice cracks with laughter as well.

“I told you it's a bad idea,” you shrug innocently. “Guess you’re helping me finish the dishes now, Walsh.”

“Yes, ma’am. But hey, you still owe me though.”

“Okay,” you grab him by the shirt and pull him into another passionate kiss.

“Come get the rest in my room tonight,” you smirk as you pull back.

“Got it, darlin’,” he grins, licking his lips.

Thank you for reading!

additional tag: @munsonownsmyass​

[kwistowee]

JON BERNTHAL and EMILY BLUNT SICARIO (2015) @bernthirst-events

[anna-hawk]

Mondays don't always suck

Pairing: The Mute x GN!Reader Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017) Rating: T Word Count: 1156

Summary: Your week is off to a rough start, but then you meet this beautiful stranger.

Warnings/Tags: Modern Setting – Meet Cute

A/N: I came up with this idea yesterday morning, but initially with Frank. Then I was considering other characters that would work well with it, and suddenly, I really wanted to write something soft for The Mute. Is it a bit silly because it's modern setting? Maybe, but eh.

It’s early Monday morning as you practically jog to your local coffee shop. You huff in exasperation as you feel your phone buzzing with the second email of the day. You hadn’t even started work yet, and you already know that you’d be swamped with emails and phone calls as soon as you got to your desk. The craving for caffeine becomes a necessity as you need fuel to get you through the morning. Ugh, Mondays. 

You pull out your phone from your coat right as you enter the coffee shop. You bask in the wonderful smell of coffee beans and the warmth of the place, since it’s January and Winter had truly settled in a few weeks ago. With your eyes on the screen, you only make sure that you don’t run into the person next in line through your peripherals and scan the latest email from your boss. Why couldn’t she wait until you’re actually there to tell you everything instead of sending you several emails with random thoughts? It’s not like you can do anything before getting your computer started. 

Sending her a quick reply that says that you’d be there in fifteen minutes, you finally put the phone away again and lift your eyes. Your eyes widen at what they find right in front of them. You nearly take a step back to fully take in the man standing before you in the line for the counter. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a large back, that tapers down into a narrow waist and the curve of a stunning, denim clad ass. The dark blue material of the plaid shirt that he’s wearing is pulled taut over the shoulders, the cut of the collar highlighting a thick neck, while dark hair curls around his head messily. 

You’re ripped out of your staring by the line moving up and the man stepping forward. Except that the person before him seems to have taken a step back again, forcing the man to do the same and ending with him gently colliding with you. He halfway turns towards you with an apologetic expression, and you see him mouth the word sorry while rubbing a fist in a circular motion over his chest. 

“It’s fine,” you smile and wave away his apology, while simultaneously taking in his soft brown eyes and the gorgeous, thick beard that looks incredible on him. 

The man faces forward again, but turns his head towards you a couple of seconds later, as if really taking you in this time, and smiles at you. Your eyebrows rise, surprised by his quick perusal. You give him a small smile in return and bite your lower lip once he has to look to the front as the line moves up again. To your continuous surprise, he halfway turns to you once more, but this time he waves faintly, making you laugh at his tentative approach. 

“Hi.” You emulate his motion, which makes him grin and look down. 

He’s the next in line, so he faces away from you and walks up to the counter, where you see the young barista greeting him with a bright smile and asking what he’d like today. To your surprise again, you see hand movements from the man, instead of hearing a vocal answer. 

Sign language, you suddenly realize, thinking back to the way he’d apologized. You watch the silent exchange between the two men, the way the barista – Diarmuid, you remember – interacts with the man, signing and talking easily, a clear sign that they know each other well. The beautiful stranger laughs, despite no sound coming from him. He glances behind him and at you, then signs something for the younger man. Diarmuid looks at you as the larger man steps to the side, and grins with a wide and friendly smile. Your eyes go from one man to the other as you walk to the counter, one eyebrow lifted and a curious smile on your face. 

“Good morning. My friend here would like to buy you a drink as an apology.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to look at the older man. 

“Oh, no, please. That’s not necessary. It wasn't your fault.” 

You try to say the words a bit more slowly than you normally would, wondering if the man can read them off your lips. You cringe inwardly, wondering if it’s something common to do for deaf people. 

“He can hear you just fine,” Diarmuid says with a soft smile at your effort. “He just can’t talk.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry for assuming, I-” You want to facepalm so hard and already feel the creep of embarrassment heating the back of your neck, but the man just smiles and shakes his head. 

He signs something else, which makes Diarmuid laugh as he addresses you next. 

“He says that now you really have to accept that he buys your drink.” 

You burst out laughing at the unexpected reply, feeling better thanks to the two men’s easy-going attitude. 

“Okay then, I guess.” You quickly give your usual order, while feeling the eyes of the man on you as he waits for the other barista to finish preparing his drink. 

Diarmuid takes the money the man hands him, then thanks him happily as he keeps the change at the man’s request, you guess, and puts it in a jar. 

“Thank you,” you smile, as you watch the other barista handing the man his drink. 

He nods with a pleased smile, then begins to walk away. You frown, confused. By the way he had looked at you earlier, you know that he had been flirting with you. 

“That’s it?” You ask as he passes you, catching him off guard by how his eyebrows lift, and he looks at you. He stops in his tracks 

“You’re buying me coffee… and that’s it?” You smile with an amused chuckle.

He shrugs with a small smile in return, then looks towards the counter with a twist to his mouth; no Diarmuid to help. He nods his head towards an empty high table, silently asking you to follow him. You take a second to retrieve your finished drink from the barista, then join him, noticing that he’s taken out his phone. He’s put the coffee on the table as he busies himself with typing something. 

I don’t want you to think that you have to talk to me just because I bought you coffee. 

The text reads as he hands you the phone. 

Your eyes go from the screen to his eyes. 

“Just like that?”

He shrugs again and nods. 

“What if I do want to talk?” You smile softly, completely smitten by this big but sweet man. 

He chuckles softly, although there’s no sound, just his chest moving. He takes back the phone and resumes typing. 

I would like that a lot. 

Maybe your Monday wouldn’t be that bad in the end.

[bernthirst-events]

Reminder

Just a reminder that we’re hosting our thirstiest event yet! It’ll start in 19 days,– on January 2, 2023. It’s a 18+ theme-focused event, and each day has several prompts to draw inspiration from. You can enter once or as may times as you want during that week. All characters and ships related to Jon Bernthal’s work are welcome.

We've also updated the rules, and added a no AI generated work rule to the list. Please take a look at those before entering and feel free to contact us if you have any questions.

Bernthirst Palooza: Info & Themes

Posting Guidlines

Happy Thirsting!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Where Does It Hurt ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: serious injury, blood, pining, bit of angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, love.

A/n: for @bernthirst-events #Bernthirstpalooza Torture Thursday, a break from the smut, I almost made it entirely angst but i guess I love him too much 😅

He holds in a breath trying to stop his hands from shaking as he wrenches a jagged sliver of metal from his side, gritting his teeth to stop from howling in pain as it clatters into the sink basin in a spray of red. Blood oozes from between his fingers as he presses his hand to the wound, it's bad, his vision is wavering, fuzzy at the edges now from the loss and the beating he took tonight.

He staggers to grab for the medical kit, he should really close this up but he can't seem to reach it, it gets further away with every sluggish step he takes. He groans, collapsing against the bathroom wall and sliding into a heap. Is this it? So is this how it all ends, his crusade of vengeance cut short by a fucking piece of shrapnel? It's pathetic.

He should have called you, should have begged at your feet for you to stay after the last time, but no, he was apparently too proud for your help. He thought he was protecting you.

Fuck, it's cold.

His lips barely move as they whisper your name and then he passes out.

"Baby…"

The blurred dream-like image of your face is right in front of him, you look beautiful. You're smiling.

But you can't be, you're gone, you left. He lost you.

He feels the tears burn as they start to well up in the corners of his eyes as they close. This is some fucking cruel shit, his own mind conjuring you like this as he's bleeding out. Why should he be surprised? He loves you. He never got around to saying it but his heart has been yours for months now.

He never told you. He'll never get to.

.

There's warmth against his face, softness pressed to his cheek. When he opens his eyes there's a dim light, he's in a room he doesn't recognise. Some things start to come into focus - starched white sheets, a rail at the foot of the bed, charts on the wall, he feels the tubes in his nose.

And then he feels you. Gently wrapped around him, your breath slow and steady and warm against his neck, your arm draped over his chest. You're like some baby koala or some shit, and he chuckles at the thought of it, he laughs and yeah it hurts, it's real, it wakes you and you're real and he's here. You're here.

"Frankie-" you're saying his name as you lift your head, your eyes lighting up as you realise he's conscious.

"I love you," Frank tells you, even though his voice is hoarse and cracked, "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

He's certain the smile you give him could power the entire city. "I thought I'd lost you, I thought that-" you can't say it, tears running down your pretty face.

"I lost you, baby." He replies, wiping them away with his thumbs.

"No, I'm here Frank. I love you too. So much."

He holds on to you tightly and he's never letting go.

Frank tags (if you want added or removed just let me know): @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @munsonownsmyass

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Keep it Clean ||

Shane Walsh x female reader

Tags/warnings: shower sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink? apocalyptic zombie world pregnancy worries. E

A/n: I did not think I'd get another one out so fast lol. First time writing for Shane as well (and for why?? Mmm)! This is for @bernthirst-events #bernthirstpalooza Wet Wednesday 😜 please reblog if you enjoyed!

Clean, hot, almost magical water cascades over your naked body as you dance under the strong shower spray, squealing with delight. You don't even know how long it's been since you had access to something so luxurious. This of course meant you were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

You moan with pleasure as you slide the soap suds over your skin, the cleansing sensation feeling almost too good you can't stop giggling to yourself. You could finally relax for a while, recharge and restock after months on the road only ever snatching meager hours of sleep because of the watches. Because of the walkers.

You almost jump out of your skin letting out a scream when something touches your back, spinning around ready to throw your fist until it's held above your head in a strong grip and you're pinned against the tiled shower wall.

"S-shane! Oh my god, don't do fuckin' do that!" You shriek, whacking him on the bare chest with your free hand.

He smiles that shit eating smile, looking you up and down as you try to get your breathing and heart rate under control.

"Sorry baby, but can't a man watch his woman enjoying herself? Couldn't help wantin' to touch…"

You've calmed down enough to realise he's completely naked as he loosens his grip on your wrist. His massive bulk takes up most of the cubicle space, and as your eyes trail down following the water droplets on his tanned skin you can't help noticing he's very aroused.

He trails his wet fingers down your arm as you let it fall, sliding his hand to cup your breast and you gasp, arching into him as he runs his thumb in slow circles around your nipple.

"Y'know it's been a while since we…"

You're grateful for his other hand coming to grip you around the waist as you think you might fall, melting into his touch as you remember just how long it's been since you last had sex.

"Yeah," you breathe out, parting your lips as he leans down pressing his against them, the trickling water flowing around you easing the kiss into one that's increasingly hotter and wetter, one that has your skin feeling electrified as he touches you, his hands everywhere you need them to be. The kisses migrate elsewhere, both of you mouthing desperately at each other's skin, needing to feel this closeness in the new privacy that you haven't been able to have before. You're sinking to your knees so eager to take him in your mouth and show him but he pulls you back up, leaning in close as he kisses you on the lips again so passionately.

"Ain't gonna last if you do that babe."

The feel of his erection pressing against your belly has you wet and ready for him in record time.

"Well what are you waiting for handsome," you ask, reaching down between you, encircling your hand around his cock making him almost choke. "fuck me."

"Yes ma'am." He lifts up your leg, grabbing under your thigh and you hold on to both him and the shower pipe for support as he lines up before slowly pushing in. The fullness you feel with him inside you takes you aback and he feels it too, waiting for you to relax as you curl around him, fingers digging into his muscular arms. After a minute you nod against him, giving him the signal that he can move and your mouth drops open as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

"Oh damn baby, oh fuck…"

Your knuckles are white as you grip onto the pipe beside you but he prises your fingers off, interlacing them in his as he shifts you to the side fucking you up against the wall.

Your moans are loud and echo around the bathroom and you're certain that the others will be able to hear, but you don't care, you just want him. You can't even care that he's taking you raw, you should really be more careful but the feeling of him is like nothing else. You need it, need to feel him without any barrier, the primal urge too strong to beat any logic and sense.

His wet skin smacks against yours faster, harder as he pushes you towards your climax. Your fingers twist in his hair and pull, and you feel the growl he makes vibrate through your soul.

"Shane, please…" you plead for something, you don't know what anymore but he's got you regardless, he's all around you, covering you, inside you making you feel safe in the midst of this fucked up world.

"Fuck babygirl, I'm close, we gotta-"

You know he's looking to pull out but your hindbrain has taken the wheel and you pull him closer, nails pressing red crescents into his skin because you need this, you want this.

Fuck the consequences.

He looks you right in the eyes and you're nodding, you're begging for it, you're selfish. You don't care.

You cry out as you cum, taking him with you through his nonsensical curses, his praises, his I love yous, not letting go until you've stopped shaking, until he's shushing you gently, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he pulls out.

You don't know what will happen, if it happens, but you know he'll be there for you no matter what.

.

.

If you enjoy my writing please reblog to share with others!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/Warnings: first kiss, first time, doubts and hangups, Frank being too damn soft.

For the #Bernthirstpalooza challenge, Missionary Monday.

He holds you safe in his warm honey brown eyes and you forget what you were going to say as you start to get lost in them again.

His fingers tuck a stray hair back behind your ear and then brush down your cheek to your jaw, pausing there. You sigh, lashes fluttering at his touch, so tender before he leans in, his own gaze flicking up to meet yours and then back to your slightly parted lips.

"I've uh… been wantin' to do this for a long time."

You smile but it barely lasts a second because his lips are on yours and he's kissing you, his hand lightly holding you, guiding you against his lips in a way that has you suddenly craving him touching you like that everywhere. Restraint evaporates quickly as he slips his tongue against yours and you throw your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, going with him as he maneuvers you onto his lap. He has a taste you are already addicted to, and the way he's being so tender in contrast to all you know about him has your head spinning. He's kissing you utterly breathless but you never want to come up for air, and in the end it's him that stops it all and pulls away. He's gasping, eyes dark and hair wild from your fingers raking through it.

"Frank, why…" your breath is shallow as you frantically search for the reason why he's no longer making you feel like the only other person in the world.

"Shit, I'm sorry, s'ok. I just think we need to-" you can tell how much he's struggling with what he's trying to say, past hangups and current feelings battling it out within him. "-need to slow down."

You place a hand on his chest to ground him and yourself. "Uhuh, yeah. Y-you're probably right." you sigh deeply, trying your very best to stamp down the urge to dive back in and swim forever in the feel of him.

"Just don't wanna ruin this, y'know? We got time."

You cradle his face, pressing a light kiss to his lips before you swing your leg around and sit back on the couch beside him. "I know, me neither."

He shifts turning towards you, eyes flicking up and down your body like he's a hair's breadth away from eating you whole, and you sense there's a second where it could go either way.

"Fuck it."

Then the decision is made.

He suddenly slides over you and you can feel the heat from him again as he cages you underneath his body. Your hands slip around his broad shoulders and thick neck bringing him down to meet your eager mouth with a passion that burns hotter and more furiously than before. There is no way you are taking this slow, you had yearned for weeks while on the road with him, every small look or accidental touch sending your gut exploding into butterflies wondering if he wanted this, wanted you too. Now you knew and it seemed neither if you would stop until you had become utterly consumed by each other. Even in this urgency he was still being gentle, careful with you like you would break under his rough hands but you urged him, showing him that you didn't want him to hold back for you, you wanted all of him as he really was.

You tug and pull at his clothes, desperate to feel his skin against yours, confessing your long tended thoughts as your fingertips trace over his scars. He gives you every opportunity to say you've changed your mind, to give you an out so you could say no, that you'd made a mistake, that he was a mistake. But you never do, you focus on making it clear as day to him that you want him. When you find yourself poised naked above him, his lips and hands caressing you closer to bliss, you run your fingers through his hair, looking right into his eyes as you lower yourself down and take him, filling you inch by glorious inch, the two of you moaning in unison when you're finally locked together in such intimacy.

"Sweetheart, are you s-"

You cut him off with a long and tender kiss that you hope will dispel any possible remaining doubt.

"Listen, of course I'm sure. Make love to me, Frank."

.

Frank tags:

@divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass

[darlingshane]

the bet

Griff x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 1,2k

Summary: You should know better than to bet against your boyfriend, Griff. You fall for it every time without missing a beat, no matter the consequences.

Content/Warnings: explicit, smut, betting, making out, fingering, overstimulation, handcuffs, squirting.

A/N: This was made for Wet Wednesday @bernthirst-events, and was mostly inspired by this picture.

– Read below or at AO3.

As a general rule, you try not to bet against your boyfriend Griff. He's a sore loser and a smug winner and, no matter the outcome, you always end up regretting playing his games.

Tonight the stakes are high, however, and you really couldn't let this opportunity pass cause If you win he has to remove the horrendous teardrop tattoo off his face that you cannot stand looking at; and if he wins, he gets to pick your next tattoo.

There's absolutely no doubt that you have this in the bag, because the bet consists in whoever comes first during sex— loses.

History can tell that, with a few exceptions, out of all the times you've fucked 98% of those Griff has always reached climax first. You know exactly what he likes, and you just have to use all your charms and dirty tricks to get him there quickly.

For starters, you indulge him for a moment and let him pick up a sharpie to draw the design he wants you to ink directly on his chosen spot, your ass, if he wins.

After laying on your front, he straddles the back of your thighs, and pushes the elastic of your pink panties to the side, exposing your butt cheek. Right on that space, he traces a heart with an arrow and a ‘G’ for Griff inside the heart shape.

You stand up for a moment to take a look at your temporary tattoo in the mirror. There's no chance in hell you're having that permanently inked on your skin, so you better bring your A game.

So going back to bed, you take off your shirt as you crawl over his lower half until you're completely lying on top of him, and start making out casually, lowering his defenses while slightly waving your hips against his crotch, only covered by a pair of boxer briefs.

His rough fingers slide under the waistband of your underwear, molding your ass to the shape of his big hands, pressing you harder against him.

Keeping your focus on the prize, you disregard his bulge growing bigger between your legs, and keep exploring his mouth for a while, giving him just enough to crave more and more. When he’s fully hard, you pull back, straighten your torso and tap his lips with your index finger before running your finger nails down his chest.

As you mark his skin, taming the beast, he heavily exhales and twitches underneath you. It works every time. He grunts louder when you do it one more time, and lean forward to use your tongue on his nipple. Aware of how wildly turns him on, you trace the small circumference with just the tip of your tongue before using your teeth to nibble gently.

“You’re so dirty,” he grumbles as your mouth travels across his clean-shaven chest to the other nipple.

You let out a small chuckle, sticking your tongue out to draw the shape of that hard peak resting on top of his toned pectoral. You flick it, lick it, and bite a little harder this time.

“So fucking dirty,” he keeps protesting, but the erection tucked against your core tells you how much he’s enjoying that.

“Yeah? You don’t like my methods, hotshot?” biting your lower lip, you pull back, and brace your palms on his abdomen, waving your hips sensually against his.

“I like’em alright. Just don’t complain when I use my tricks on you.”

“Tricks? You don’t have any tricks,” you scoff.

“We’ll see about that. C’mere, baby,” he licks his lips as his eyes viciously roam all over your body before pulling you down to your former position on top of him.

One of his hands cradles the back of your head, as he captures your lips with such force that almost knocks all the air out of you. Then, you feel his arms locking around you as he swiftly shifts your body, so you’re the one laying on your back instead.

In that position, he’s the one in charge now driving his hips against your pussy with nothing but wicked perversion, as he eagerly defiles your mouth. Your panties get soaked in seconds, and it’s just the perfect opportunity for him to use that as a distraction. Getting lost in the dizzying swirling of his tongue, you fall right into his trap like an idiot and don't even register at all when he grabs your wrists and brings them over your head to cuff them to the headboard. It’s when you hear the metal closing that you break the kiss and tilt your head back to see your hands tied to the bars.

“What the hell are you doing?” you complain, trying to yank your hands free while he swiftly slips your underwear off you.

His lips turn into the most devilish of grins you have ever seen, “showing you my tricks, baby.”

Your brow creases as he brings the delicate fabric of your panties up to his nose, lewdly humming as he inhales your scent, “hmm, you always smell so beautiful.”

Then he tosses them away and soothes the plane of your thighs with his palms, parting your legs before having two of his thick fingers shoved into your opening.

“Griff… this wasn’t on the rules,” you moan, trying to kick him, but he uses his free hand and one of his legs to keep you from doing so.

“What rules? You didn’t say anything about rules,” his fingers working you with a hard steady pace, “you said, and I quote– anything goes.”

“You’re a fucking jerk, Griffin!” you cry out as your back arches, when his thumb starts rubbing harshly on your clit.

“Look at you, so desperate already. You thought you could own me, huh? That’s cute.” He laughs like the asshole that he is.

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath as his fingers keep sinfully fucking you, unwavering, going in and out, caressing your walls, pressing in your g-spot, collecting your slick, and building your orgasm quickly.

“You want me to stop? Say it and you lose. Last more than five minutes, and maybe I’ll let you win.”

“Start counting, asshole,” you utter between clenched teeth, accepting his challenge.

Maybe you were too cocky earlier. Right now– you’re doomed. It’s too much to hold and all you wanna do is burst, but you try clenching every muscle for as long as you can until every inch of your body aches.

When you reach a point where you feel you’re going to pee over his hand, you can only squirm and curse at his name as he stops rubbing your overly sensitive clit, and doubles down, putting all his power on pressing on that sweet spot inside to free that orgasm from the prison that is your lower abdomen.

The obscene wet sounds that come from your cunt being vehemently finger-fucked fill the room, along with the unbridled sounds of lust that fall from your mouth. He then releases your leg and presses his other hand on your mound to quicken the process until you completely fall apart and all your fluids gush out unexpectedly, squirting all over his hand and arm and the sheets beneath your body as you're taken by a torrent of pleasure that courses through every cell of your body, elevating you to a higher ground.

He might have won the bet, but you clearly take a victory on basking in that intoxicating buzz as you come down from your high, knowing that there’s no chance you’re fucking him tonight now for playing that dirty.

[darlingshane]

UNBOUNDED | PART 5

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2,7k

Summary: Rope play with Frank. That's it.

Content/Warnings: explicit, bdsm, dom!frank, rope play, bj's, ball sucking, orgasm control, orgasm denial.

A/N: For reference, Frank ties reader in a rope dress if you wanna search it up beforehand. You can also find the source I used as inspiration in the ao3 chapter.

– Links: Read Below or at AO3. You can also check out the series masterpost on tumblr.

Part 5: Shibari

As promised, Frank takes you on a little gateway a week after your last punishment. He wakes you up way earlier than you’d want to with bags already packed and loaded in his truck, and the smell of toast of coffee that he brings you to bed on a tray.

He’s excited to show you the beautiful place he’s picked for your stance in the mountains – a small cabin close to town surrounded by a stunning snowy scenery on a cold winter day. It’s exactly what you expected of Frank. He knows you too well and loves you even more that he plans the whole thing by himself just to surprise you.

After your arrival, you take it slow, go on a stroll to enjoy the sights, get some groceries in town, and visit the local café and other stores in the vicinity. Before it starts snowing again, you get back to the cabin and make the best out of your well-deserved mini vacation with him.

At nighttime, the unfamiliar space, smell, and temperature of the cabin make you a little nervous, and excited to see what Frank has in storage for you. Admittedly, you've never felt as safe as you do when you're in Frank's playroom, so trying this in someone else's space intimidates you a little.

You've already kicked it up a notch by wearing your master's leather collar under a turtle-neck sweater since you left the apartment this morning. Your relationship is solid enough to taste new boundaries and so far, while it's not something you'd like to incorporate in your daily routine; from time to time it'd be nice to wear it longer and hand him all the control of your actions. Frank's not extremely demanding, however. He seeks for your wellness above all, and having him tell you where to sit, what to eat, giving you permission for mundane tasks is actually just as liberating as when you're doing your usual rough play. You're a master's little pleaser, he's gathered. You thrive in praise and every time you follow his words, he's there to reward you with a kiss, a good girl, or a treat.

While Frank prepares the bedroom for a good playing session, you take a relaxing hot bath, per his command.

When the room is ready, your master comes to find you, and after ushering you out of the tub, he helps you dry your body before tying a black, satin blindfold around your eyes.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” he hushes in your ear in that swoon-worthy, deep tone that makes your skin shiver.

“Always, Sir.”

“Hmm.”

That's his pleased response you've come to adore. He takes your hand and steers you towards the bedroom. After a few steps, the texture of the floor changes from wood to something plush and cozy under your bare feet. He stops when you hit the middle of the fabric and your body quickly heats up in anticipation, and at the warmth radiating from the fireplace.

Only Frank can see how gorgeous you look right now, with just the glow of the flames dancing across the surface of your skin, drawing every curve of your figure.

His palms hover the plane of your body for a moment without so much as a touch, letting you guess where he’s going to put them first. After a few seconds, they land carefully on your shoulders. His breath touches the back of your neck, as he places a tender kiss on that spot.

Preparing you for the activity he’s chosen, he spends a good amount of time massaging your neck, shoulders, and arms in all their length down to your palms. Your skin buzzes in delight with his hands thoroughly kneading your back afterward.

When he’s done, he grabs a coil of rope from the chair and proceeds to constrict your body with it.

He takes his time, gingerly binding your torso with a rope dress — you can tell what he's picked from his maneuvering around you. Sir’s rough but careful fingers caress your prickled skin as he ties the folded rope in a series of knots in a line down the middle of your torso. You shudder when a happy knot is placed over your clit, and you try not to move much to not get overexcited. He pulls the tail between your legs and up your back, from under your ass, to link it with the first loop he left hanging between your shoulders blades.

Next, he circles your body, back to the front, and extends your arms up, so he can bring the tails from the back under your armpits. From above your breasts and down to your waist, he starts lacing the rope with great dexterity, creating a diamond pattern along your chest.

It's arduous work, but it seems like a piece of cake to your master. And it's quite rewarding for both.

You’re partial to rope. However, you rarely practice rope play cause a couple of times you’ve felt a little overwhelmed when too much time is spent bound like this. Last time you did, you cried yellow in the middle, but you were restricted in a more intricate way from head to toe; that’s why you figure he went from the rope dress this time.

Almost finished, he frames your mound in one last diamond and curls the tails around your waist to secure them at your back, keenly tying and looping the remains around the line that goes up your spine.

As a final touch, he folds your arms comfortably at the small of your back and uses another coil of rope to bind them to the harness, rendering you completely useless, except for your legs.

“How does it feel, sweetheart? You good?” he squeezes your hands.

“I’m good, Sir. Thank you for being so careful.”

“Anything for my good girl,” relying on touch only, you then feel his fingers moving between your legs, tapping on the knot on your clit, “How about this, does this feel right?”

“It feels amazing, Sir.”

“Hmm,” he presses on it for a few seconds, earning a good sigh out of your lips. “We're gonna get you to your knees now, alright?”

You nod and trust his hands as he lowers you to the floor.

Out of sight, as you get comfortable on your knees, he takes off his shirt and walks around, observing the beautiful form of your surrendering position. Like you’ve already guessed, he opts for leaving your legs free this time to avoid that over exhaustion of last time.

He stops in front of you and cups his bulge, watching you as you take a deep breath and get used to the rope. He admires how much you’ve progressed, and how much trust you’ve put in him. Like now, he could do anything with you right now, and you’d let him without question. That takes a lot of time to build, but with you, it came fairly easy.

After a moment, he picks up the flogger he laid early on the bed and does another spin around you, this time gently letting you feel the leather tresses on different parts of your skin without striking. Surveying your every reaction, he casually places its weight on each of your shoulders, brushes the back of your neck with its tails, tickles the soles of your feet, and then teases your hard nipples, bringing that dizzying arousal that comes from handling him that power.

You stay centered, for the most part, minding your Sir’s desires as he changes your position. He coaxes you to lean forwards until your head and shoulders are propped on the end of the mattress.

“Lift your ass as much as you can,” he orders, patting your rear as you push your ass upwards, “good girl.”

You swallow as he runs the leather tails softly on your rear, cueing you before swinging the flogger. He starts fairly gentle and slow, warming up your cheeks, and the back of your thighs.

When the strikes start coming slightly harder and quicker, your hips jerk and that sweet knot, sitting on the right place, stimulates your clit as a result.

He notices how your body waves, aching for more friction against that knot.

“You’re enjoying that, huh?”

Thud.

“Ahh, yes, Sir.”

Thud.

“What do we say?”

Thud.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Thud.

“Attagirl,” rumbles deep in his throat, followed by a grunt, and a harder thud, “what’s your color?”

“Green, Sir.”

Pausing, he inhales, trying to tame his own arousal, “we’re going to count backwards from ten, and move on. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath, “ready, Sir.”

Much in sync with the other, he swings evenly as you to utter each number after each strike.

The pain is evenhandedly dull with the flogger, it resembles more of a deep massage than anything else. It's the rope around your body that inflicts more damage than the leather falls.

Your body strains against your constraints as you get down to the last three, and it relaxes after the final hit.

Your slickness extends around your binds, reaching your thighs when he's done.

A long, heavy exhalation comes out of your mouth as one of his caring palms touches your ass, assessing the warmth of your skin.

“You took it so fucking good, sweetheart.”

“You gave it so fucking good, Sir,” you murmur.

He smiles to himself and lets you recover for several beats before straightening your torso and checking that your blindfold is still in place.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” Sir reaches to your mouth, tilts your chin up with his tucked index finger as his thumb rubs back and forth on your lower lip.

“Hmm, yes, Sir.”

His thumb then slips between your lips, and touches your tongue as you wrap your mouth around it.

“You want something bigger to fill that insatiable mouth?”

“Uh-hum,” you eagerly mumble around his finger, “I’d love that, Sir.”

Scoffing, he plays with your tongue a little more before pulling his thumb out.

If you could see his face, you'd capture the ignition in his eyes, and the plush of his lips turning a few shades of pink deeper at the prospect of what comes next, — him feeding you his cock.

“Stick out your tongue, kitten,” he purrs, undoing his zipper, and releasing his aching erection as you follow his order.

He holds his thick length in one hand, and places his other palm on the side of your head, as he first tentatively taps, and slides the breadth of its head on the plane of your tongue a few times before shoving half his dick in the depth of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he growls, “go on.”

With nothing but your mouth to please your master's stately hard-on, you swirl your tongue, drawing the familiar flare at the top, teasing its slit, and tasting the first drops of his precum. Then, you bob your head back and forth, taking him further down until the tip of his cock touches the back of your throat.

“Attagirl. Keep going.”

Wrapping your lips around his shaft, you worship his cock with passion, earning praises and delightful groans out of your master's mouth.

Extremely aroused, your hips undulate lightly, searching for the delicious pressure of the rope on each side of your lips, and the knot that shifts with your movements over your swollen clit.

Suddenly, Frank stops you from finishing him and takes his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath.

You pout, and he smirks, holding his length, stepping an inch closer to your face and propping his balls over your lips, so you can feel them.

“Suck’em,” he orders gravely.

Your tongue swipes across your lips as you follow your Sir’s wishes. You take one blindly into your mouth, capturing the already taut skin of his scrotum, and cover it in your saliva before taking the other. He jerks himself, flattering the ways of your doing between clenched teeth and well garnered grunts as you drive him out of his mind with the swirling and desperate sucking of his sack.

When he’s close, he takes them away and shoves his twitching cock back in your mouth. He holds your head still with both hands, as you set your jaw a little slacked, so he can fuck your mouth obscenely hard the rest of the way until he ejaculates in the middle of your tongue with just a handful of thrusts.

Standing still from a moment, he anchors himself to you as his breath catches.

You're nearly in tears when he puts his cock away and crouches in front of you to wipe your mouth, and bathe you with more sweet adulation.

“Who’s my best girl?” he rasps, removing the blindfold off your eyes.

“I am, Sir,” you blink as your vision adjusts to the warm light of the fireplace.

“Damn right you are,” he states huskily, cupping your jaw in his palms, massaging the joints of your mandible, “you did so good. How are you feeling? You wanna keep going?”

“Thank you. I’d like that, Sir… I haven't… yet…”

“I know,” he smiles softly, “I was getting to it. Do you want me to untie you?”

“Just my arms, Sir.”

“Okay,” he sighs, utterly pleased, and proceeds to untie your hands.

He helps up to your feet and places you on the bed on your side. His large form spoons your shape, tucking one of his hands between your legs. His fingers slip under the rope and that well-placed knot, and he gently caresses your over-excited clit that was begging for some attention.

His lips roam your neck, nibbling and kissing, as the pressure of his fingers madly fuel that fiery flame growing in your core.

“Can I come, Sir?”

“Tsk, not yet baby,” cause he likes to make you beg a few times.

As you squirm in his hold, he rubs harder on you as the rope strains in all the right places, marking your skin.

“Please, Sir,” you plead again after a couple of minutes.

“Shh, just a little more. I know how long you can hold, sweetheart,” he grins smugly before sucking a good chunk of your neck between his lips, “be a good girl for me.”

You moan and hold tight for several beats, gripping at his arm that tenses with every move as it rubs fiercely on your clit until you reach a point of no return. It’s either stop or let go. There’s no in between.

“Pleasepleaseplease, Sir,” you desperately pant, overtaken by that torrent of pleasure held only by a shred of will.

Reveling in that power, he makes you wait, — just a little more – before granting you the right to unleash that powerful orgasm that flows freely through every inch of your body, setting every cell ablaze.

Under a heavy breath, you utter your gratitude to your master and relax in the safety of his arms. You love the extra cuddles and kisses, and he loves indulging you for being a good girl. He's always so tender and attentive, it makes your heart swoon. Tonight, he waits until you've completely come down from your high, and your body has turned to jello to remove the rope tying your body. Carefully undoing each knot, he enjoys seeing the temporary marks of pleasure and devotion left on your skin. He cares for them, spreading lotion on your skin and making sure there is no burn or extreme damage to the surface of your body.

Then, you sit comfortably against the headboard and cover your body up to your chest with a blanket afterward, while Frank gathers some food from the kitchen.

“You were so beautiful today, I should have taken a picture,” he says, holding a spoon near your mouth to feed you a piece of cheesecake after settling next to you.

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile timidly, take your bite of food, and express with your mouth full, “you don't have to feed me.”

“I wanna,” he shrugs, taking a piece of cake for himself.

“Next time you could take a picture, you know?”

“Would you want that?”

“In other circumstances I'd say no, but I trust you, Sir. I know it'd be only for you.”

“Maybe I will,” he offers you another bite, followed by a quick kiss to your lips.

[lucy-sky]

Fix You (Frank Castle x f!Reader)

Torture Thursday prompts: injuries; blood; angst (it's actually not as bad as it sounds, we all know I can’t write heavy angst :'D)

You're a former Black Widow. Well… Who are you kidding? Can a Black Widow possibly be “former”? Even after escaping the Red Room, youʼre still a soldier. And you're used to being on your own. But what if Frank Castle cares for you more than you think he does?

Warnings: see the prompts + hand jobs and getting each other off 

Words: 1688; AO3 link if you prefer reading there

“You okay?” Frank asks as you stumble out of the bathroom. You nod, gritting your teeth. It hurts, of course - you’ve just got a bullet out of your left forearm. There’s no bullet wounds on your right arm, but there’s a rather deep cut on it. Another cut underneath your collarbone you consider just a scratch. There’s a few bruises beneath your ribs, and apparently your ankle is twisted because you can hardly step.

All this is not a big deal for someone who’s spent years in the Red Room. Once a Black Widow - always a Black Widow. Probably that’s why even though you’re free and there’s no Red Room or special missions in your life any longer, you still couldn’t settle. You really tried though, but a simple and quiet life didn’t seem to be meant for you. You moved to New York, found a job in a bar… One night on your way home you saw a couple of men assault a young woman. Could you simply walk away? Not with your training and instincts. 

That’s how it started - fighting crime became your side job, the one that gave you way more satisfaction. And if you fight crime in New York, well… One day you inevitably crossed paths with the Punisher. 

Your first spontaneous team-up turned out to be surprisingly effective for two people who were used to working alone and counting only on themselves. Frank was injured, and you offered your help and shelter for the night. Since then you started working together from time to time. 

You couldn’t call your relationship a friendship - it was more like a partnership. But sometimes you can’t help thinking that no one understands you better than Frank Castle. You are soldiers, the both of you. A soldier can return from war, but the war never leaves them. Peaceful life is not for you. Your hands will always be covered with blood, but at least this way you can make the world or this city a little bit better.

“Need some help?” Frank glances at you with visible concern as you land on the couch and reach for the bandage roll. 

“Told you, I’m fine,” you grumble. “Not the worst thing I’ve been through.”

The wounds really don’t bother you all that much. What bothers you is that this time your “mission” didn’t go well.

Frank doesn’t look much better than you. You suspect those assholes kind of didn’t dare to hit you right in the face, but with Frank they didn’t hesitate much. His face is painted with bruises, yet somehow this time not a single bullet reached him, despite all the risk he took. Your injured ankle hasn’t made your escape any easier or faster, and now you’re angry at yourself for that, as well as you’re angry at Frank. The rational part of you knows you should actually be thankful, but the stubborn grumpy part that hates losing just simply can’t help it.

“C’mon. Let me do that for you,” his voice is calm but stern, so you give up. You didn’t let him remove the bullet from your arm, but now you have no more energy to protest. You allow him to dress your wound, but your anger is still there, and he probably senses it.

“You gonna tell me what the hell is wrong, or-”

“Why did you come back for me, Castle?” 

Your sharp intonation catches him unawares.

“You were hurt,” he mutters.

“No shit. You think I can’t take care of myself? I’m a Black Widow, for fuck’s sake.”

“Didn’t say you can’t take care of yourself. But you were fuckin’ bleeding! And look at your leg. You couldn’t have gone too far like that, they’d get you.”

“Fuck that,” you huff. “You could have got him, Frank! But the bastard’s still free. You know what shit he’s into, right? Human trafficking, weapons… You know how many lives he’s ruined?! I know exactly how those girls felt, okay? I was taken to the Red Room against my will as well, and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way, no one deserves it. Those who are doing it must pay for that. And you just let him get away when he was that close! No, you chose to be a fuckin’ gentleman and save me… But you know what, Castle? I don’t need saving!”

“So what, you wanted me to let you die there?” Frank’s voice is like a bucket of cold water. Are you sure you were ready to die tonight? Probably not. It’s funny how despite all the training and risky missions death still scares you. You don’t want to admit it to him though.

“If that’s the cost,” you shrug. “I mean… It’s not that my life matters much for anyone.”

“You serious right now?”

Frank’s dark brown eyes suddenly meet yours and the look is so intense that you’re unable to look away.

“How ‘bout me, you think your life doesn’t matter to me as well?”

You blink, confused. For some reason you’ve never really thought of it, but right now, looking him in the eye, you realize that Frank cares for you. Genuinely. And you?  What would you do if you were him? If you had to choose between punishing a dangerous criminal and saving Frank Castle, would you be able to leave him for a bigger goal, or would you come back for him? The answer is clear, and you know that.

“I don’t know,” your voice is very quiet, close to a whisper, but your heart is racing. “Does it?..”

He doesn’t say a word, and his eyes leave yours only for a split second as he lowers his gaze to your lips. His hand reaches to frame your jaw as he leans in.

Your heart skips a beat at the touch of his lips. You’ve never had time for romance. You have some experience when it comes to the physical part, and it was far from being romantic. What you’re feeling right now when he kisses you with unexpected tenderness is new for you, it’s overwhelming. You're too used to being on your own, and now, all of a sudden it hits you how much you needed this; how much you needed him. So you open up for him, you welcome his lips and tongue, and when the kisses become more heated, you find yourself straddling his lap. The movement echoes with a sharp pain in your ankle and you hiss against his lips but don’t want it to stop. When he pulls back to take a breath, you look at each other with wild eyes. There’s lust and need for closeness, for simple human touch, but also something more than that. You’re not sure how to put it into words, and right now you don’t even want to. All you want is to have him as close to you as possible. You’re only wearing your sports bra and leggins at the moment after discarding your longsleeve in the bathroom to get rid of the bullet and clean the wound. But Frank still has his shirt on, and you urge him to remove it too. He grunts as he tugs it off, revealing his own bruises and cuts, but nevertheless he pulls you closer, his lips finding yours before trailing down the curve of your neck. You shiver when he reaches that fresh cut under your collarbone and peppers it with kisses. 

“Frank,” you breath out, grinding against him. That flame that broke out between the two of you so fast is becoming almost unbearable, despite all the wounds and the ache in your body. 

“Sh-sh, I got you,” Frank rasps, pressing another kiss against your jaw. He gently urges you to straighten on his lap, and lets his hand slide down your belly, under the hem of your leggins. His palm presses against your mound, and he lets out a low groan feeling your warmth through the thin cotton of your underwear. The pressure feels good, but not nearly enough, so soon you shift again, allowing him better access. Moaning softly as he starts rubbing circles against your clit, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. His scent is intoxicating, it makes you want more, makes you want to touch him in return. Bracing yourself against his shoulder, you reach the crotch of his jeans with your free hand. The sound he makes as you cup and squeeze him is an obscene half-moan half-grunt, his hips bucking in response to your actions. He’s probably as touch-starved as you are, you think. How long has it been for him?

“Shit, sweetheart… lemme just… hold on…”

It takes a few more awkward moments to adjust, and you end up jerking each other off like a couple of horny teens, too impatient to undress. You don’t care how it looks though. Too busy melting in these sensations, you don't even give a damn about pain any longer. Maybe it's the adrenaline from the fight still boiling in your veins, or maybe it's just him - the way he grips onto your thigh, the sounds he makes, the warmth of his breath against your neck… The way he's so determined to make you see stars. You come hard and fast against his fingers, and he follows you seconds later, his cock hot and throbbing in your hand. 

Foreheads pressed together, you’re both panting heavily, getting down from your high. You close your eyes, weariness spreading over your tired body and sore muscles. As if through the haze you can feel Frank withdrawing his hand from your pants and pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“Ah, shit. You’re bleedin’ again,” he states as he carefully repositions you on the couch.

“Hey Castle…” you mumble as you watch him changing the bandage on your forearm.

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for fixin’ me.”

“Anytime,” he lets out a soft chuckle. “And you know what,” he adds after a pause, his hand reaching to give yours a reassuring squeeze. “We’re gonna get that asshole next time. Promise.”

Thank you for reading!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Returns and Reruns ||

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Tags/warnings: sort of hookup, ongoing whatever this is, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex. E.

A/n: Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt Fratt... For @bernthirst-events Filthy Friday, could be filthier I guess :p

It had been a while, but Matt would recognise that scent anywhere. Subtle woody aftershave mixed with a hint of gun oil, pizza from a couple of hours ago from the place down the block, the single malt whiskey on his lips. Sure enough when he turned around he could sense Frank leaning at the bar looking his way.

"It's been a while, Castle. How've you been?"

Frank made room for him at the bar, giving a slight smile as Matt waved to Josie for two more measures.

"Been quiet, you didn't notice?" He replies.

Matt scoffs. "Trying to be a good boy?"

Frank tilts his head and shakes it, chuckling slightly. "When am I ever? Nah, I'm sure somethin'll come along, someone will step outta line. They always do."

He takes a sip of his drink looking over to the pool table where Foggy is undoubtedly getting his ass kicked at pool by Karen. She still looks beautiful.

"You uh, with Karen now? She know about…" he gestures between them with a slight nervousness.

"No, no we're just really good friends. And no, she doesn't."

Matt wasn't trying to hide whatever it is he has with Frank, it just never came up.

"And Nelson?"

Matt takes a hefty swig of the whisky, swirling it around his mouth for a moment. He can feel Frank's eyes on him watching his throat work as he swallows. "Hell no. The thought of trying to explain… not sure I'm ready for that yet."

Frank hums as he drains his glass.

"You out later, doin' your thing?" He asks. Matt knows it's a loaded question.

"Not exclusively…"

.

"Fuck…"

Matt's arms span across the back of the couch, fingers gripping around it almost white knuckled, his head thrown back panting curses up to the ceiling. Clothes are strewn over various surfaces of his apartment wherever they were torn off, a couple of things knocked over on the way up to this point. He's naked, his legs spread wide, and Frank's between them, his hot, wet, dirty mouth wrapped around Matt's cock. He tries not to move his hips, as much as he wants to, but it's as if Frank's encouraging him to fuck his face, grasping underneath his buttocks and pulling him up towards him but Matt resists.

He moans and pulls off him for a moment, a slick string of spit connecting them for a few seconds until it breaks.

"You gonna let me take care of you?" Frank rasps.

Matt's chest heaves as he tries to catch a breath. "...yeah I just– aw jesus christ!" He's cut off as Frank starts sucking one of his balls into his mouth as he strokes him with his hand.

"Frank, fuck! Please…"

Frank grins releasing him from his mouth before licking his way right up the underside of his shaft to the tip, tasting the leaking precum there as it spreads over his tongue.

"C'mon Red, tell me what you want, it's been a long time… I forget."

Matt's eyes screw shut. "Just, fuck me."

Frank raises an eyebrow with a grin. "Yeah? Gotta get you ready f'me first baby, ain't just gonna fuck you right off."

He straddles Matt's lap, taking his hand in his and curling it around his thick cock. "Gotta open you up so you can take it, huh? You forget how big it was?"

Matt whines as he pumps him slowly, desperate to feel him inside. "Lube's in the bedroom." He murmurs as Frank's mouth works under his jaw to his mouth, kissing him hotly and making him melt.

"C'mon then lil devil." He says, getting up and offering his hand to pull Matt up and follow him.

When Matt's settled on his bed Frank wastes no time finding the lube and loosening him up. He missed hearing those sweet little grunts and moans of need as he worked his fingers inside him, teasing him with a little brush over the spot that he'll be pounding hard against in a short while.

"Fuckin' missed you, y'know that?" Frank admits as he kisses over Matt's neck and collarbones, skirting over the twin scars and down to graze his teeth over and suck at his nipple. "Missed this." His voice lowers as he scissors his thick digits making the other man's back arch gorgeously.

"Frank please, I'm ready, I'm ready."

Frank smirks. He loves how he begs for him, how open and honest he is with his needs now. No longer unsure, no longer ashamed.

He squirts more lube on his hand smearing it all over his cock, pressing his large hands on the underside of Matt's thighs, pushing them back and apart. When he lines up Matt's already trying to push back on to him.

"Woah, easy…" Frank shushes him as he slowly and carefully presses deeper, the fat flared head of his cock disappearing inside as they both groan with pleasure.

It still burns for Matt but he wants that bit of delicious pain, it seals the memory of Frank into him like a brand for when he eventually leaves. His hands wrap around the back of his thick neck, pulling Frank over him and down so he can taste him again as keeps on sliding inch by inch inside him.

He's such a big man, he surrounds him and it feels good to give in to it and submit. This isn't so different from when they used to fight, used to beat seven shades of shit out of each other on the streets. It was still a dance then and they got to know each other's steps and moves. He much prefers this dance though, slow and easy. All he has to do is not think, just feel, and those feelings and sensations are like nothing else.

Frank's watching him closely, can see him slipping into that subspace already. It always takes a bit of to and fro before he just lets Frank in, lets him take care of things for him. He thrusts in slow and deep, he feels so damn tight and looks like one of those fuckin' religious statues with the way that pained pleasure is painted on his face. It's not just the sex but when he's back with Matt in Hell's Kitchen he feels home. It's not love but it's damn close to it.

He can't keep his lips off him, kissing and nipping wherever he can reach, wherever makes him whimper and tilt his head back and Frank can see that glazed look in his hazel eyes as they open again.

"I-I'm close, Frank…"

Frank hears that desperate confession and snaps out of his reverie, fucking his devil the way he's waited to for so long, hitting that sweet spot that makes him howl and cry and stripe his release between their writhing bodies as he follows him, cumming deep inside and holding him so damn tightly as he gasps out his name.

Not Red, not D, not Altar Boy.

"Matt…"

Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @briefcasejuice

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @munsonownsmyass

[lucy-sky]

Cure for a Restless Heart (Julian Kaye x f!Reader)

Wet Wednesday prompts: showers; oral sex

When Julian is emotionally drained, you just want to give him the love he deserves.

Warnings: some angst and hurt-comfort, oral sex (both receiving), A LOT of feelings for Julian, I’m drowning in them, help

Words: 1305; AO3 link if you prefer reading there

You’ve never seen Julian that tired, even after a really tough and busy day in the kitchen. Right now it’s a different kind of exhaustion though - more emotional rather than physical, and you are not surprised.

This man’s childhood was far from being happy. You couldn’t know all the details of course, but what he told you was more than enough for you to understand that visiting his mom is not the easiest thing for Julian. Coming back to the place he grew up would inevitably bring back a lot of painful memories. Plus his mother… Well, let’s be fair. In a way she actually ruined his life, even if she did not fully understand what she was doing. You ask yourself if you could go back there if you were him, and the answer is - you are not so sure. 

But Julian Kaye’s got the biggest heart, despite how many times it got shuttered.

“I mean… Good or bad, she’s still my mother after all…” He told you in a broken voice, explaining his decision to go check on her a couple of days before Christmas.

You suggested going with him, but he politely declined your offer, vaguely telling you it’s better for him to go alone. You didn’t insist, just let him know that you’d be there for him if he needs it. He left early in the morning. Now it’s almost midnight, and he’s standing at your door. Seeing him like that makes your heart shrink, but a part of you is glad that he’s here, that he trusts you enough to come to your place in such a vulnerable state, searching for some sort of comfort after having twisted a knife in his old wounds.

“Hey,” you whisper softly as you let him in. Cupping his cheek, you press your lips against his in a gentle kiss before looking into his sad brown eyes.

“How did it go?”

“‘S okay,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “She’s fine, uh… I cleaned up her place a little. Washed the dishes, took out the trash… She seemed to be glad to see me.”

“That’s good. You’re such a good son, J.”

He gives you a crooked smile.

“It’s just… She’s all alone up there. No one would do that for her if not me.”

“Right,” you take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He clearly is not in a very talkative mood right now, and that’s okay. He’s here, and that’s enough.

“You know what, I think you need a shower after a long drive, how ‘bout that?” you suggest, and he nods in reply.

Still holding his hand, you guide him to the bathroom and turn the water on while he takes off his clothes. Then you undress as well, getting rid of your t-shirt, pajama pants and underwear, and join him in the shower, pressing a kiss against his shoulder as he stands there, eyes closed, tilting his face to the warm sprays of water. Without saying a word, you reach for a sponge and shower gel. Julian seems a little baffled at first, but as you start gently rubbing the soapy sponge against his back and shoulders, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbs away under your touch, and he lets out a soft pleased hum at the sensation.

You wash his hair then, carefully massaging his scalp, hoping that if your affection won’t cure his troubled soul, at least it’s gonna make the troubled thoughts leave his mind for a while. Once you’re done, you wrap your arms around his torso and simply stay there, your chest pressed against his back as you embrace him. 

“Are you feeling better now?” you murmur against his warm damp skin.

“Much better, sweetheart, yeah,” his voice is quiet and filled with gratitude, his hand finds yours. “C’mere.”

You obey, facing him, and the smile on his lips is so tender and kind as he brings his hands to brush wet strands of hair away from your face. He frames your jaw - an already familiar gesture before he leans in for a kiss. It’s deep, warm and unhurried, and oh so sweet. You melt into it, moaning softly at the gentle touch of his tongue that still lingers when your lips part. He leaves a trail of feathery kisses along your jawline before nuzzling into the crook of your neck, his strong arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You hold each other for a while, enjoying this intimate moment of warmth and comfort. Julian’s hands slowly roam over your body, fingers brushing along the curve of your spine. He presses a kiss against your sternum, then further down your body, until he’s on his knees in front of you. His tongue gathers a few drops of water on your lower belly, the warmth of his breath dangerously close to your center.

“Wait, Julian,” you breathe out, and he looks up at you with glossy eyes, head tilting to the side. “It’s not about me, okay? It’s about you. You had a tough day, and I wanted to take care of you…”

“But you already did, sweetheart,” he smiles. “I-I wanna do this, okay? Wanna taste you. Will you let me?”

“Julian Kaye,” you giggle softly, carding your fingers through the damp strands of his hair. “You’re… absolutely unbelievable.”

He chuckles against your skin as he urges you to press your back against the tiles, placing your leg over his shoulder. A couple of kisses on the inside of your thigh, and then this sweet and greedy tongue of his dips between your folds, and you’re gone, because it’s heaven. No one does it better, apparently because he really enjoys it, and it doesn’t take long for him to make you come undone.

His cock is rock hard when he’s done with you, so you decide to return the favor, and he doesn’t seem to mind. Julian is more of a giver - in bed and sometimes in life as well. He knows how to make a woman feel good, how to make her feel really special, he makes it his goal every time he has sex. This is why you love having him like that - lost in his own pleasure, unable to think about anything else. Not trying to please you for a while, just letting you please him, you know he needs it. And you hope you’re making him feel special too. Because he really, truly is. 

You take your time, stroking up and down his length while your lips trail over his lower belly, pressing kisses along the hipbones. The way he throbs in your hand, twitches at the swirl of your tongue against the tip is more than satisfying, and the low grunt that escapes him as you take him into your mouth feels like the best reward. You work him slowly, thoroughly, until he’s nothing but a panting mess.

“‘M gonna come,” he warns hoarsely, and you pick up the pace, hollowing your cheeks, determined to make him see stars. He comes with a ragged moan, hips jerking as he spills his load down your throat. Catching a breath, he lets his fingers gently comb through your hair before helping you get on your feet, and you share another kiss, slow, tender and loving.  

After the shower, when you curl up in bed nestled against Julian’s chest, he whispers a soft “thank you, sweetheart” into your hair, and the warmth is spreading all over your body with these words. 

After all he’s been through, after everything he gives to others, Julian Kaye totally deserves quiet blissful moments like this. You can’t wash away all his troubled thoughts and traumas of his past, but you can make him feel loved. And maybe one day it will cure his restless heart.

Thank you for reading!

I hope it turned out okay because I personally don’t think I’m very good at writing blowjobs xDD I don’t even intended it at first, I wasn’t even sure if there’s gonna be any sex in this story, but as you can see, my hand slipped in the end, oops. (I mean come on... being in the shower with this man and not... you know... I am weak)

[lucy-sky]

Ink (Griff x f!Reader)

Tushy Tuesday prompts: doggy position; spanking (well... just once :'D)

You've got a surprise for Griff for your anniversary.

Warnings: you can see them in the prompts + a bit of fingering and Griff being kinda possessive; also please think before having someone’s name tattooed on you :DD

Words: 752; AO3 link if you prefer reading there

A/N: Literally last minute kind of thing - I wrote it late at night after visiting my relatives and having a few glasses of champagne, also I've never written Griff before, so I apologize if this one sucks :'DD

“Whoa!” Griff exclaims as you open the door, “Damn, sweetheart… You missed me that much?”

Being with Griff sure as hell is a wild ride. He could disappear for weeks, hiding from the police after another criminal shit he got himself into, then storm back into your life like a hurricane sweeping you off your feet. Your friends told you you’ve lost your mind, and maybe they’re not completely wrong after all, but… You know Griff loves you in his own way, you know he would fight for you, and maybe that’s what keeps you together for such a long while. Today’s your first anniversary - a year ago you met him at a local bar and the spark between you was so bright that you ended up in bed together on that same night. Who knew it’s gonna be something more than a drunken one night stand?

You’re well prepared for the occasion: a new set of lingerie only slightly covered with a silk dressing gown that you didn’t bother to tie up, heels (you’re not really into them but something tells you you’re not gonna walk much tonight) and stockings, of course. From the way Griff is eyeing you right now, licking his lips as if you’re his favorite dessert, you can tell the outfit choice was right.

“Course I did, baby… I always miss you,” you smirk, impatiently tugging him inside and closing the door shut before wrapping your arms around him. “What about you, tough guy? Did you miss me?” 

“How d’you think?” he goes in a low raspy voice before crushing his lips on yours in a fiery kiss as if he’s about to devour you. Griff’s kisses are furious, possessive, almost bruising, all teeth and tongue, and it never fails to make your knees go weak.

“I got a surprise for you,” you whisper in your most sultry tone as you push Griff’s jacket down his shoulders.

“Oh yeah, is that a good one?” he chuckles, squeezing your backside in a firm grip to pull you even closer.

“You’ll see.”

His clothes are quickly discarded as well as your dressing gown somewhere on the way to the bedroom. Your lips are already swollen with passionate kisses as you land on the bed.

“Shit, look at you, sweetheart - you’re fuckin’ gorgeous! I’d eat you alive, I swear,” Griff might not be the most poetic guy when it comes to compliments, but he always sounds like he hundred percent means it. “Wanna get on all fours for me, darlin’?”

There it is, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Biting your lip, you obey, slowly turning your back to him, revealing a new tattoo on your lower back.

“Wait, uh… Is that real?” you can feel his fingers brushing against your skin.

“It is, yep,” you reply, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Lost my tattoo virginity a couple of weeks ago. You like it?”

“That’s pretty hot, not gonna lie,” he leans down, pressing kisses along the curve of your spine while his big hands squeeze and knead your buttcheeks. “Is that your surprise, huh?”

“Well it’s actually even hotter if you look closer…” you hint. You’re actually kinda proud of this design. At first glance it looks just like a random pattern, but an attentive viewer can notice the letters…

“Holy shit, is that… Is that my name?”

“Uh-huh. You like being an inspiration for my very first tattoo?” you chuckle.

“Shit, babe. That’s real sexy of you. Get over here,” he groans, seizing your hips. You giggle as he keeps grunting while tugging down your panties using his teeth. Being too impatient though he helps himself with his hands, and you gasp out loud when his fingers find their way between your folds.

“That’s my girl. So wet for me,” he praises, curling his fingers at exactly the right angle, his thumb grazing against your clit.

“Hey sweetheart,” his voice rumbles above you as you melt in the blissful sensations of his fingers inside you. “Did you uh… When you got the tattoo… you didn’t have to take off your pants, did ya?”

“What?” you snort, “Of course not, are you kidding me? It’s not on my butt or something, why would I- oh!” you let out a whimper when his free hand lands on your butcheek with a hard smack. 

“Good,” he hums contently, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with the tip of his cock. “‘Cause that sweet ass of yours only belongs to me.”

Thank you for reading!