#Hard Choices|Frank Castle

[brooklynislandgirl]

@wxr-zxne {{from here because "legacy" content}}

It doesn't bother her in the least when Frank sometimes watches her like she's a sunrise or some rare flower he's tempted to uproot and replant in his garden. Especially when she knows if he did, he would be gentle. For all the violence and blood his hands have been capable of, Frank has grown weary of it. He's gentled now under the wide skies and welcoming neighbours, a community that appreciates his other talents. He takes great care with her and she can see something inside him glow in those moments. He grumbles at Tank and the dog responds in kind. Kindred spirits, maybe? She slides her feet to the floor and pulls herself out of her chair. Like Tank she's compelled to follow him. "Oooh, scrambled wit' cheese?" Eggs like that and raisin bread toast is one of her favourite things. Easy and quick, too, so that she isn't making any serious demands on Frank. Was all the butter healthy? Not really but it was delicious. Seeing the path his eyes take, she busies herself with making the coffee. It was just another thing that they took in stride. At night, she would prep the pot with freshly ground coffee and water, set the temperature and alarm on it so that the coffee would be piping hot and ready when they finally crawled out of bed while Frank checked the doors, the security cameras and made sure the place was secure. Compromise was important. And apparently, so was narking on her. Tank gives up that she feeds him when no one is looking. Thankfully Frank doesn't seem mad about that. Once the coffee is happily brewing away, Beth slips onto one of the island's bar-stools. Elbows on the surface and chin propped on the backs of her hands, she watches him toil over breakfast, waiting to help with anything he might ask of her. "Off for da next glorious four days, den I got four back-to-back shifts. Sixteen on, eight off, so I'm probably gonna stay at work. If ya don't mind." She braces for what she assumes will be a wince at best, and him not being okay with it at worst. "Uh...I dunno. Is dere anyt'ing you been dyin' to make?"

[planetallure]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ fic recs

CW: these works contain explicit content intended for those 18+. make sure to read the rules of the writers before interacting.

@peterthepark : coming back to this blog made me realize when exactly i started back reading fanfic fr. the moment that was eddie mf munson, touched something in me. reign was one of my first intros that really stuck with me. it kinda blew my mind and scared me at the same time because i was like…how do i move on…what’s better than this??? brilliance. creative genius. like what more do you want from me? reign, i miss you. <3

i rec literally anything she’s written about eddie or tasm!peter parker.

@ohcaptains : i really don’t know what to tell you man. leah. is. HER. she simply does not miss. funny story: when i first started my old blog, it was ageless so i ended up getting blocked. so i pm’d her basically begging to come back home because i knew what i had lost. i’m not ashamed.

"dealers choice" - if you happened to miss the moment that was eddie munson or you miss his character or you were never really into him, this lil universe is for you. <3

"learning in public" - carmy x fem!reader. he needs it. he wants it. he has to have it. a man on his knees. enjoy.

"don't you dare fall in love" - heads up this one was discontinued and will not be continued (so don’t go harassing her about it) but the last part has an open ending so don’t let that stop you. college student/dealer!ellie x fem!reader. it’s beautiful and perfect. enjoy.

also ALL of her frank castle, abby anderson, tasm!peter parker fics. thank youuu

@inknopewetrust : this woman is a W R I T E R. the beautiful angsty things that come from her brain need to be cherished. thank you for your service.

“hoping i’ll find [a glimpse of us]” - when i tell you this shit was so fricking good!!!!!?! another piece of LITERATURE that i couldn’t believe i got to read for free on tumblr. i am such a sucker for a angsty slow burn and this still lives in me head rent free to this day. the tension had me giggling and laughing and biting my nail and crying. i need to spin back. i need to feel something!!

“secret” : now this one was a sexy forbidden romance. eddie’s our man who isn’t our man but is and oh m gee the angst in this one got me too, though it wasn’t as much. preppy!reader x eddie munson iykyk.

@etherealising : the absolute sweetest person i’ve met on here. every interaction i have with her just makes me smile. on TOP of that she’s a beautiful writer and storyteller. vee you have my heart.

“all i ever knew only you” - the best carmy x oc fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading on here. i’m so emotionally attached to this series, its characters and i think it has such re-readablity . the characterization is also so well done carmy x baby 4life. it’s currently discontinued but she is currently doing a rewrite and it’s going really well! in the meantime, please don’t let that stop you from reading the original while it’s still up. you won’t regret it.

“a buried and a burning flame” - vee single-handedly has me looking a richie different now. like…wait a minute :)) the bickering and banter is so fun. tension? check. spice?? check.

“flew like a moth to you” - a continuation of the one above. babyyyy!!! yes, yes, uh huh 🙂‍↕️ these two? LOVE EM. he’s officially in my heart.

@totheblood : star is so kind and super creative. she has created some of my favorite ellie williams smau’s on here.

"the hard way" - rockstar!ellie williams x ex-gf!reader smau. you guys are brought together again to solve the mystery that is the anonymous account blackmailing the two of you. mmm, nothing like the takedown of a shady mf to bring the girls together again :)

@cherriesxinthespring : another sweetheart with a beautiful mind. ik people get the characterization/true nature of ellie so wrong, but not rosie. she gets it.

“wasteland, baby!” - the wlw true enemies to lovers slow burn i’ve been dreaming of. tap in. right now.

@elliesbelle

“nobody compares to you” : a deliciously angsty slow burn second chance romance (ex!ellie x f!reader)

all the text convos for abby and ellie.

@newasskid : this blog makes me so nostalgic. THE first fic series that i read and rebloged when i started my first ff blog, came from this writer. i honestly feel it was my first time reading fanfic that wasn’t a silly little wattpad story or imagine and i was honestly gagged. i was like, “this…this is literature.” what can i say? i love good ass characterization! and this one was no exception.

“hard knock life” - like i said i was gagged with how good it was. i read the first two chapters back in 2022 and i still remember the feeling i felt reading them. this new blog i’m making is a fresh start for me and a chance for me to get back into old fandoms. will be revisiting this one soon.

@lovelettersfromluna

"one of your girls" - biker!ellie/roommate!ellie/camgirl!ellie x f!reader ALL rolled into to this ridiculously sexy little universe!! i love these two so much :’(

"compass" - vampire!ellie !!!! my new favorite thing. the way luna writes her feeding on reader ALONE is the most erotic and intimate thing. my god this was hot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

sending all of this beautiful writers my love and respect y’all are amazing and so important. <3

[darlingshane]

Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck yeah.”

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

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

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

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

“I missed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

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

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Smoke & Blood (Frank Castle)

Summary: after you kill the men who sought after Frank, everything goes haywire.

Warnings: angst

WC: 1K

Read on Ao3!

-

The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of gasoline and iron. The warehouse was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering bulbs overhead and the occasional flash of lightning outside. It was raining—a storm was in full swing, but inside, it was quiet. Too quiet.

You stood in the middle of it all, your pulse racing, your breath shaky. Bodies littered the floor around you—men who had once been allies, now nothing more than casualties in the war you had been dragged into. The war that was Frank Castle’s life.

You had known the risks when you got involved with Frank, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this moment. The world was spinning, the weight of your decisions crashing down on you all at once as you faced the man you had fallen in love with—the man who now looked at you like you were the enemy.

Frank stood a few feet away, his chest heaving from the fight, blood splattered across his face and knuckles. His eyes were wild, dark with rage, and yet somewhere behind the storm in his gaze, you could still see the man you knew. The man you had come to care for, despite the blood he constantly shed.

“Why?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. His hand twitched, gripping the gun at his side tightly, but he didn’t raise it. Not yet. “Why the hell did you do it?”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you tried to find the words. But how could you explain something like this to Frank? How could you tell him that you had been forced into a corner, that you had no choice?

“I had to, Frank,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain hitting the roof. “You don’t understand…”

His eyes narrowed, and in an instant, he crossed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your arm in a bruising grip. “I don’t understand?” he growled, his voice rough and venomous. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you went behind my back. You sold me out to those bastards.” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as if he was barely holding himself together. “You betrayed me.”

Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t have a choice,” you said, your voice shaking. “They were going to kill you. They came to me, they threatened me—threatened us. I thought if I could just give them something, they’d let you go. I thought I could protect you.”

Frank’s eyes flashed with fury, and he released you, pushing you back roughly as he turned away, pacing like a caged animal. “You thought you could protect me?” he repeated, his voice bitter. “Do you know who the hell I am? What I do? I don’t need protecting, especially not from someone who’s supposed to have my back.”

“Frank, please—”

“No!” he shouted, spinning around to face you again, his chest heaving. “You made a deal with the same people I’ve spent my life fighting. You handed me over to the enemy.” His hands were shaking now, his fists clenched at his sides. “You thought they’d let me live? They were going to kill me, and you know it.”

The accusation hit you like a punch to the gut. You had made a mistake, a terrible, unforgivable mistake. But you had done it for him. To save him.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, your voice breaking as the tears finally spilled down your cheeks. “I thought I was helping. I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” he cut you off, his voice cold and unforgiving. “And now, because of you, they know where I am. They know everything.” He took a step toward you, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something dark—something dangerous—cross his face. “You signed my death warrant. You might as well have put the bullet in me yourself.”

You took a shaky step back, fear creeping up your spine as you realized just how far you had pushed him. Frank Castle was not a man you crossed. And now, you had done the one thing he couldn’t forgive.

“I never meant for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Frank’s expression hardened, his eyes burning with fury. “Intentions don’t matter. What matters is what you did.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. “I should kill you.”

You froze, the weight of his words settling like ice in your veins. You knew Frank was capable of it—he’d killed countless men for far less. But this was different. This was you. You had stood by him, fought beside him. You had loved him.

But now, that love felt like a distant memory.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his voice laced with so much venom it made your heart stop. “For what you did. For betraying me.”

A sob escaped your throat, your vision blurring as you looked up at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces. “Frank… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, his face softened—just for a moment. You saw a flicker of the man you loved, the man who had held you after long nights of fighting, who had whispered promises of safety in the dark. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the hard, unforgiving mask of The Punisher.

“Sorry won’t fix this,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “I know.”

He stared at you for a long moment, the silence between you deafening. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the warehouse, broken and consumed by the weight of your choices.

The rain outside continued to pour, but the storm in your heart was far worse.

If you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

[chvoswxtch]

divine

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you wanna have your way with frank, but he has other plans.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: riding frank's face has been heavy on the brain lately. pun intended.

word count: 704

Frank feels like he’s in fucking heaven. With your soft thighs on either side of his head, your fingers weaved through his dark and grown out tresses, and his tongue delved deep within your sweet cunt, he’s never been happier. 

The evidence of his joy is outlined perfectly in a slate gray peak straining against the soft fabric of those low hanging sweatpants that sparked this sudden explosion of lust. Before your hand could boldly slip past the waistband, Frank had grabbed your wrist delicately and redirected your hips further up. It was rare that Frank was ever selfish when it came to being intimate, but your hunger was no match for his, and he was starving. 

Before you could protest about not getting to ride your first choice, his large nose was rubbing deliciously against your tender clit as he inhaled the scent of your arousal from the source and his warm, wet tongue began to explore your soaked cunt. He slowly dragged the wide expanse of his flat tongue against your entire pussy while his large nose stimulated your clit. In a matter of minutes your shyness had evaporated, and his large hands were no longer holding your hips in place to prevent you from pulling away, but kneading the soft flesh of your thighs and dragging your hips closer to his greedy tongue. 

Frank had a perfect view of you from this angle. He could could see your pretty pussy dripping onto mouth as he alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your sensitive clit. Your breasts lightly bounced as you moved your hips sensually, riding his face the same way you rode his thick cock. Your lips were parted slightly as melodic moans of pleasure and hymns of his name flew off your tongue. The amber illumination from the golden hour outside slipping past the thin curtains in the room cast an ethereal glow over your skin. You looked downright divine from Frank’s view beneath you. 

The harder you tugged at his thick and unruly mess of curls, the closer he knew you were to granting him what he wanted most in that moment; the taste of you. Frank’s deep brown eyes were locked on you the entire time, his pupils nearly blown wide open with pure lust. His own moans and noises of pleasure were muffled by your pussy, and the vibrations of them made your toes curl, but you could hear the faint tune of encouragement in them.

Frank slowly let go of your thighs to guide his large hands up to your waist, gripping firmly as he guided your hips back and forth against his face a little faster, encouraging you to take what you needed the same way he did when you were close to coming from riding his cock. Excitement pulsated in his bloodstream as your thighs tightened around his head, and he groaned in delight as he felt your walls contracting around his tongue. 

As you hunched over slightly with your eyes screwed shut and your face contorted in pristine rapture, Frank groaned loudly when the sweet tang of your release finally erupted and filled his mouth. You were tugging at his hair by the root so roughly it stung, but Frank finally allowed his eyes to fall shut as he groaned loudly, basking in the sensation of you weakly rutting your hips against his face to wring out every ounce of euphoria he could offer. 

Frank eagerly lapped at your soaked cunt until you were a whimpering mess, trying to pry your overstimulated pussy away from his greedy mouth, and only when he felt satiated did he finally set you free. 

There was a huge, toothy grin on his full lips that were completely coated and shining in your slick when you collapsed onto your back beside him. A dark gray wet patch had formed on the front of his sweats, and he could feel the warmth of his own sticky release dribbling down his now half hard cock. A hearty chuckle echoed from deep within his chest as he turned his head to look at you with pure mischief in his eyes.

“Alright, baby. You can fuck me now.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[frvnkcastles]

heyy i love you writing 💓(reader and frank who are dating) and she is diagnosed with anxiety and starts shaking uncontrollably during a meeting with friends and Frank notices and helps her.

YOUR SWEET HAVEN ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank helps you through a peak in your anxiety during a night out.

Warnings: Anxiety, mostly fluff, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.1k

Author’s note: Anxiety is such a bitch, I swear. Like I wrote in the fic, I feel like Frank would/does struggle greatly with anxiety about losing his loved ones but I don’t think he’s really a socially anxious person? Just a very introverted kind of guy. So I feel like he’d totally understand some aspects but others he’d have to learn about a lil more and he’d gladly do it for his partner. Just my two cents on it :) Hope you enjoy, anon, and I’m sending you lots of hugs!! You’re not alone <3

Frank’s first impression had been that you were sweet as hell but extremely, highly shy. His attempts to get to know you had required some effort as you had always steered the conversation away from yourself or given him half-answers, but when he had told you he could leave you alone, you had quickly protested. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy his company — you just weren’t the best when it came to having attention on you.

When you spent more and more time together, it dawned on him that you weren’t shy. It was anxiety driving you to stutter and apologize over and over again, even about things that weren’t your fault, and it made you fidget and overthink and feel nauseous; all things he either noticed with time or you shared with him. It was embarrassing sometimes, the way your anxiety limited you and turned the simplest situations into ordeals, but Frank was understanding. For him, anxiety manifested through his fear of losing people, but he didn’t really struggle with the social aspect, being a bold, direct person who didn’t really care what people thought of him, yet he still knew it wasn’t a choice. You couldn’t help it, and he didn’t make you feel any lesser for that.

Even before you started officially dating, he went out of his way to reassure and encourage you. Whenever you got stuck in a loop of apologies and overexplaining yourself, he shushed you softly and promised you that he knew exactly what you meant and that there was no need to be sorry for what you had said or done. This happened often when you talked about his family and you were afraid of overstepping or upsetting him, only for him to calm your racing mind down and insist that he wouldn’t have brought the topic up if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

But he wasn’t too careful with you. He also knew when and how to be firm, and it often came out when you had a phone call to make or an appointment to attend. Especially if it was something important like getting your prescription refilled or seeing your doctor about the palpitations in your chest, he wasn’t playing around — he made you do it, convinced that you had it in you, but holding your hand through it, regardless. If you ever felt too anxious to go anywhere alone, all you had to do was call him and he would be right there.

He understood and listened to your worries, and that was probably why you fell so hard for him. No one had ever been so open-minded and judgment-free with you, and it was refreshing and left you thinking about him day and night. In fact, your anxious thoughts had to step aside to make room for Frank. He could tell you were into him, and the feeling was very much mutual, and so, you both took a leap of faith and decided to give it a go.

He met your friends early on, and they all approved of him pretty quickly, as they could see just how head over heels he was for you. It was no surprise that he was invited to multiple outings — while you still had girls’ nights every now and then, they really didn’t mind Frank tagging along, especially if they had brought their own partners with them.

Another night with all of you was in your plans for the evening, and as much as you loved your friends, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Your hands trembled just a little as you got dressed and your mouth was running dry, not to mention the sickening twist in the pit of your stomach that made you feel like throwing up.

And Frank noticed immediately. ”Hey, sweetheart, we don’t gotta stay for long, yeah?” he reminded while buttoning up his shirt, and with a glance at him, you nodded. He could tell you weren’t comforted by that thought, so he went on. ”It’ll be okay. Y’know they love seein’ you. No one there is gon’ judge you, baby”, he noted, listing off things he knew that bothered you the most.

You gave him another nod and sighed. ”It’s just a lot of people. I don’t like crowds. Also, what if I can’t make conversation? Or I do, and I say the wrong thing. What if I don’t like any of the food or drinks they serve there?” you pointed out in a nervous ramble, stopping to take a deep breath. It wasn’t unusual to get stuck in a cycle like this, unable to see everything that could go right instead of wrong, but Frank was happy to be the voice of reason.

”You never say the wrong thing, darlin’. You don’t gotta talk if you don’t wanna, lettin’ other people talk is fine, too. And you googled their menu already, and you know for sure they do serve something you like—and no, I don’t think they’ve magically run out of it for good”, he countered, walking over to you with his big hands reaching for your arms and rubbing them soothingly. ”We’ll make an appearance, and if it gets too much, you just gotta squeeze my hand, aight? I’ll take you home the second it gets unbearable”, he swore, knowing that sometimes you needed a little push and that all discomfort wasn’t bad. He wanted you to explore the boundaries of your comfort-zone, but just like he had promised, he wasn’t going to put you in a spot that would paralyze you.

And you knew that. You knew you could trust his word, and you knew it was healthy to challenge the anxious thoughts every now and then. So, you agreed to his terms, choosing to believe in him more than the nagging voice in your head.

”Attagirl”, Frank praised, taking your hand in his own and squeezing it just to emphasize that was all you had to do to give him the signal. You held onto him tightly, always finding comfort in his grip and the warmth he radiated.

You made your way to the bar where you were supposed to meet your friend group, and you tried your best to be calm but it didn’t seem to be working. You got hugs and excited questions about how you were doing, and you wanted to feel appreciated but all you could do was stew in the anxiety that came with being the center of attention. They wanted to know everything, and in the panic of the moment, you blanked entirely and couldn’t think of anything to say. Frank jumped in for you, keeping the conversation going, and your friends didn’t seem to question it.

When the rest of the group decided to order some food, you felt a lump in your throat, but Frank was already whispering into your ear. ”I got this. Don’t worry, sweetheart”, he reassured you before handling your order for you. Every now and then he encouraged you to do it on your own, but he could tell this wasn’t a good night for your anxiety, so he gladly took charge.

He checked in with you periodically, too. ”Feelin’ okay, pretty girl? Wanna go yet?” he queried softly, and as much as you wanted to plead him to take you home, you felt bad about the idea of ditching your friends. You tried to push through, giving Frank a smile and insisting that you were still doing good. He could see right through it, but as long as you weren’t showing any of the usual tell-tale signs of losing control, he was allowing it.

But just like he feared, you did begin to spiral. You lost track of time and space, not really processing anything your friends were saying, but at the same time, the chatter mixed with the loud music was becoming too overwhelming. You began shaking, unable to stop, the nervousness and worry bleeding from your thoughts to your body, and you felt the burning urge to just get out of there.

It didn’t take Frank long to detect your trembling, feeling the tremors against his chest as you were seated in his arms, and a frown deepened on his face. He tilted his head down at you, trying to reach you with soft calls of your name, but you couldn’t say anything.

”Sweetheart? You still with me?” he questioned quietly, knowing you didn’t want any extra attention drawn to yourself. His hand grabbed yours, and at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with your own, you felt a little safer. His large hand swallowed up yours entirely and he gave it a squeeze, trying to bring you back down from the panic you were riding.

”Aight, we’re headin’ home. My girl ain’t feelin’ so well”, he cut into the group’s conversation, digging out some bills from his wallet to pay for your food and drinks. He climbed out of the booth and gently pulled you with him, supporting your shaking body with his arm around you. Your friends were sad to see you go, but Frank wasn’t going to let them guilt you into staying. ”Thanks for invitin’ us, y’all. Have a good night”, he told them before steering you outside.

He walked you across the parking lot and helped you into the car, buckling you in before striding to his side of the truck and hopping in. ”You’re okay, baby. We’re goin’ home, yeah? Just you and me”, he spoke into the quiet car, making sure to turn down the music to avoid overstimulating you any further.

You were still silent, but as he began driving and let one hand hang between you and him, you instantly reached for it. You held onto his fingers tightly, needing the physical comfort, and he made sure to draw patterns against your skin with his thumb in an effort to soothe you. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence and the feeling of his hand in yours, letting it ground you.

He didn’t want to make your head spin with his incessant questions, so he didn’t speak for the remainder of the drive, just kept holding your hand. Only when he pulled up at your apartment building, he turned to you with a worried look in his eyes.

”How you feelin’, sweetheart? I know that was real shitty. ’M sorry I didn’t call it a night sooner”, he apologized, and the guilty tone got you to look at him and shake your head.

”It’s not your fault. I tried to push myself, I—I guess I just wanted to make you proud”, you shrugged shyly, dropping your gaze down to your conjoined hands.

Frank chuckled, not because he thought it was funny but because he thought his feelings for you were obvious. ”I’m already proud of ya, girl. I always am. You don’t gotta prove anythin’ to me. You definitely don’t gotta make yourself that uncomfortable just to show me”, he insisted, lifting your hand so he could kiss the back of it once, then twice, then once more.

You smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. ”Thanks for taking me home. I feel better now”, you told him, and with a nod, Frank let his lips twitch up in the most careful of smiles.

”That makes me real happy to hear, darlin’. Scares the shit outta me when you get all shaky like that”, he admitted, and when you opened your mouth, he knew exactly what you were going to say. ”Don’t apologize. It ain’t your fault. I just worry, y’know?” he added, earning a sigh from you.

”Yeah, I know. But for what it’s worth, you always help. It’d be way worse without you”, you mentioned, fully truthful. With Frank by your side, you had gotten much better at fighting back at the anxiety and not letting it control every aspect of your life, and when nights like these occurred and you lost your footing, he was always there to lift you back up.

”Anythin’ you need, baby, you know that. Now, how ’bout we go inside and I’ll make you somethin’ to eat, huh?” he suggested, painfully aware that you hadn’t been able to get a single forkful in at the bar. Touched by his thoughtfulness, you agreed and reluctantly let go of his hand to climb out of the car.

As soon as the doors were locked, though, Frank took ahold of your hand once again, loving the contact but loving the comfort it brought you even more. Whenever things got tough, you reached for him, and he didn’t hesitate to hold on tight — and he never would.

[starkholme]

"Have you got any bright ideas?" she questions.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking..." he's rambling, the eyes focused on the crowd circling them.

"You better think of something fast, because if he turns me into a mummy, you're the first one I'm coming after." Karen declared with her voice trembling, she turned her head to look at Frank for what it could be her last time ever looking at him.

Karen Page, a librarian and aspiring Egyptologist, and Foggy Nelson, her best friend and an excellent lawyer, usually have drinks together in one of the best — according to Foggy himself — bars in town: Josie's Place. On a friday night, the two friends found themselves in the middle of a bar fight and after hiding behind one the tables, Karen is quick to realize an intricate box fell from the pocket of one of the fighters and takes it for herself before even thinking twice.

She only got a glimpse of his face, yet she remembers him too well.

When she finds the map of Hamunaptra inside the box, Karen convinces Foggy to go along with her to find the mysterious man. They find ex-military Frank Castle in a local prison and Karen makes a deal with him to lead them to the City of the Dead if she gets him released, he agrees.

It wasn't in Frank's plan go back to Hamunaptra, although a certain blonde Egyptologist makes it hard to not go back to the place he once served alongside The French Foreign Legion. So when Karen accidentally wakes up a 3000 year old mummy who begins to wreak havoc in searching for the reincarnation of his long-lost love, Frank's got no other choice than to stop the terror and save Karen in the process.

Kastle x a different version of The Mummy 1999

[book--brackets]

Curse Workers by Holly Black (2010-2012)

Cassel is cursed. Cursed by the memory of the fourteen year old girl he murdered. Life at school is a constant trial. Life at home even worse. No-one at home is ever going to forget that Cassel is a killer. No-one at home is ever going to forget that he isn't a magic worker.

Cassel's family are one of the big five crime families in America. Ever since magic was prohibited in 1929 magic workers have been driven underground and into crime. And while people still need their touch, their curses, their magical killings, their transformations, times have been hard. His granddad has been driven to drink, his mother is in prison and his brothers detest him as the only one of their family who can't do magic.

But there is a secret at the centre of Cassel's family and he's about to inherit it. It's terrfying and that's the truth.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (2014)

The youngest, half-goblin son of the Emperor has lived his entire life in exile, distant from the Imperial Court and the deadly intrigue that suffuses it. But when his father and three sons in line for the throne are killed in an "accident," he has no choice but to take his place as the only surviving rightful heir.

Entirely unschooled in the art of court politics, he has no friends, no advisors, and the sure knowledge that whoever assassinated his father and brothers could make an attempt on his life at any moment.

Surrounded by sycophants eager to curry favor with the naïve new emperor, and overwhelmed by the burdens of his new life, he can trust nobody. Amid the swirl of plots to depose him, offers of arranged marriages, and the specter of the unknown conspirators who lurk in the shadows, he must quickly adjust to life as the Goblin Emperor. All the while, he is alone, and trying to find even a single friend... and hoping for the possibility of romance, yet also vigilant against the unseen enemies that threaten him, lest he lose his throne – or his life.

The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor (2004-2009)

When Alyss Heart, newly orphaned heir to the Wonderland throne, flees through the Pool of Tears to escape her murderous Aunt Redd, she finds herself lost and alone in Victorian London. Befriended by an aspiring author named Lewis Carrol, Alyss tells the violent, heartbreaking story of her young life. Alyss trusts this author to tell the truth so that someone, somewhere will find her and bring her home. But he gets the story all wrong. He even spells her name incorrectly!

Fortunately, Royal Bodyguard Hatter Madigan knows all too well the awful truth of Alyss' story - and he's searching every corner of our world to find the lost princess and return her to Wonderland, to battle Redd for her rightful place as the Queen of Hearts.

East by Edith Pattou (2003-2018)

Rose has always felt out of place in her family, a wanderer in a bunch of homebodies. So when an enormous white bear mysteriously shows up and asks her to come away with him — in exchange for health and prosperity for her ailing family — she readily agrees. The bear takes Rose to a distant castle, where each night she is confronted with a mystery. In solving that mystery, she loses her heart, discovers her purpose, and realizes her travels have only just begun.

Circle of Magic by Tamora Pierce (1997-1999)

With her gift of weaving silk thread and creating light, Sandry is brought to the Winding Circle community. There she meets Briar, a former thief who has a way with plants; Daja, an outcast gifted at metalcraft; and Tris, whose connection with the weather unsettles everyone, including herself. At Winding Circle, the four misfits are taught how to use their magic - and to trust one another. But then disaster strikes their new home. Can Sandry weave together four kinds of magical power and save herself, her friends, and the one place where they've ever been accepted?

The Chronicles of Alice by Christina Henry (2015-2020)

In a warren of crumbling buildings and desperate people called the Old City, there stands a hospital with cinderblock walls which echo the screams of the poor souls inside. 

In the hospital, there is a woman. Her hair, once blond, hangs in tangles down her back. She doesn't remember why she's in such a terrible place. Just a tea party long ago, and long ears, and blood... 

Then, one night, a fire at the hospital gives the woman a chance to escape, tumbling out of the hole that imprisoned her, leaving her free to uncover the truth about what happened to her all those years ago. 

Only something else has escaped with her. Something dark. Something powerful. And to find the truth, she will have to track this beast to the very heart of the Old City, where the rabbit waits for his Alice.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley (2003)

"Sunshine" is what everyone calls her. She works long hours in her family's coffeehouse, making her famous "Cinnamon Rolls as Big as Your Head," Bitter Chocolate Death, Caramel Cataclysm, and other sugar-shock specials that keep the customers coming. She's happy in her bakery--which her stepfather built specially for her--but sometimes she feels that she should have life outside the coffeehouse. One evening she drives out to the lake to get away from her family, to be alone. There hasn't been any trouble at the lake for years.But there is trouble that night for Sunshine. She is abducted by a gang of vampires who shackle her to the wall of an abandoned mansion, within easy reach of a figure stirring in the moonlight. Sunshine knows that he is a vampire and that she is to be his dinner. Yet when dawn breaks he has not attempted to harm her.And now he needs her help to survive the day...

Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty (2023-present)

A pirate of infamy and one of the most storied and scandalous captains to sail the seven seas. 

Amina al-Sirafi has survived backstabbing rogues, vengeful merchant princes, several husbands, and one actual demon to retire peacefully with her family to a life of piety, motherhood, and absolutely nothing that hints of the supernatural.

But when she’s offered a job no bandit could refuse, she jumps at the chance for one final adventure with her old crew that will make her a legend and offers a fortune that will secure her and her family’s future forever.

Yet the deeper Amina dives the higher the stakes. For there’s always risk in wanting to become a legend, to seize one last chance at glory, to savour just a bit more power…and the price might be your very soul.

October Daye by Seanan McGuire (2009-present)

The world of Faerie never disappeared: it merely went into hiding, continuing to exist parallel to our own. Secrecy is the key to Faerie's survival—but no secret can be kept forever, and when the fae and mortal worlds collide, changelings are born. Half-human, half-fae, outsiders from birth, these second-class children of Faerie spend their lives fighting for the respect of their immortal relations. Or, in the case of October "Toby" Daye, rejecting it completely. After getting burned by both sides of her heritage, Toby has denied the fae world, retreating into a "normal" life. Unfortunately for her, Faerie has other ideas.

The murder of Countess Evening Winterrose, one of the secret regents of the San Francisco Bay Area, pulls Toby back into the fae world. Unable to resist Evening's dying curse, which binds her to investigate, Toby is forced to resume her old position as knight errant to the Duke of Shadowed Hills and begin renewing old alliances that may prove her only hope of solving the mystery...before the curse catches up with her.

The Near Witch by V. E. Schwab (2011)

The Near Witch is only an old story told to frighten children.

If the wind calls at night, you must not listen. The wind is lonely, and always looking for company.

And there are no strangers in the town of Near.

These are the truths that Lexi has heard all her life.

But when an actual stranger-a boy who seems to fade like smoke-appears outside her home on the moor at night, she knows that at least one of these sayings is no longer true.

The next night, the children of Near start disappearing from their beds, and the mysterious boy falls under suspicion. Still, he insists on helping Lexi search for them. Something tells her she can trust him.

As the hunt for the children intensifies, so does Lexi's need to know-about the witch that just might be more than a bedtime story, about the wind that seems to speak through the walls at night, and about the history of this nameless boy.

[to-thelakes]

helloooo!!! are u taking requests?? ^^ if so, can u pleaseeee write a fanfic wherein the reader is sick (i have read your sickday fluffbruary fic and aaaaaaaaaaaa >//<) so the reader is having a hard time swallowing her pills, reader has something like a phobia taking medications like that and frank helps the reader and comforts her because she nearly have a panic attack worrying about not taking her medication because she have to do workloads the nextday. thank yiuuuuuuu

hi nonnie! ask and you shall receive (but oh my god, this is SO late, i am so sorry)

medication

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; frank helps you when you're ill

warnings; fluff, soft frank, discussion/depiction of common cold or common cold-like illness,

notes; this is just a little fluffy piece that i wrote, it's not been proof-read so i apologise if it is atrocious or there are grammar mistakes! but i hope you enjoy <3 we need more soft frank in this world

masterlist

You had tried to tell Frank not to come over. You were sick, you were exhausted and you really didn’t want to get him sick. Considering his line of work, you couldn’t imagine him coughing and spluttering would make his life easier. You really didn’t want to make anything worse for him but Frank didn’t give you a choice in the matter.

Only 5 minutes after you had returned home from work with a headache, a dripping and blocked nose, a cough and swollen sinuses, he was at your door with your favorite takeout and a sympathetic look. He had been worked up recently and so seeing his shoulders relaxed and the lack of annoyance ridging his features was a welcome change even if you felt like utter crap.

“I told you not to come over,” You mumbled as you stepped back from the door. Frank shrugged and passed through the door. He knew your apartment like the back of his hand and while you closed the door, he headed to the kitchen to presumably plate up the takeout. But as you turned around, he had returned to your side with a tissue. He then wiped your nose for you, hand resting against your cheek as his thumb stroked your cheekbone.

“And I told ya, I’m takin’ care of my girl,” He responded. You sighed but you knew it was an argument you weren’t going to win. You turned your head as you coughed into your hand, Frank letting go of you as it quickly devolved into a coughing fit. It was painful, your throat was red raw and you let out a groan as your body finally stopped trying to eject your lungs from inside itself. Your shoulders sagged.

“I hate this,” You muttered. He sighed and gently pulled you towards him with a soft tug on your wrist. You walked over and rested against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your hairline before he wrapped you up. It was hard to breathe pressed against him so you were quick to turn your head so your cheek rested against his chest and you could breathe out of your mouth.

“You got pills to take?” He asked. You nodded, a frown spreading on your face. You hated taking pills. They made you feel sick most of the time and sometimes it felt like they were still lodged in your throat. It was irrational but you really didn’t want to take them even if they had made you feel ten times better while you had been at work. A soft huff escaped your lips, “I know ya hate ‘em but I need my girl back on her feet, yeah?” You pouted and he pulled back so he could look at your face. His hand cupped your cheek and he lifted the tissue up again to wipe your nose before he stepped back.

Your work bag was on the couch and while you headed to it, Frank headed to the bedroom. You pulled out the packet of pills before discarding the bag by the door. You placed the pills on the coffee table and Frank returned from the bedroom with your duvet, your pillow and pajamas. He dropped them on the sofa and you sent him a grateful smile.

“Lie down,” He said before he headed to the kitchen. You watched him for a moment and when he glanced back, it kicked you into action. You stripped out of your work clothes (the blinds were closed, thankfully) and into the pajamas he’d picked up for you before you snuggled up on the sofa, adjusting your pillow by your head and pulling the duvet around you. Frank placed a glass of water on the table and popped two pills out before he headed back to the kitchen.

He didn’t tell you to take them but you knew that he wanted you to. He just wanted you to feel better but the thought of even touching the pills made you nauseous. You couldn’t imagine anything worse right now and you glared them down. A hand brushed over your face before you reached over and grabbed the glass of water.

You just had to do it, you just had to do it. You didn’t even notice how quick your breathing had gotten until Frank had sat next to you on the sofa. His hand rested against your face and your eyes snapped to him, suddenly coming back to yourself.

“Hey, hey,” He said softly. You looked up at him, tears beginning to blur your vision. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, “Look at me,” He insisted. You forced your gaze to focus on him, his crooked nose, his lips, the yellowing bruises on the side of his face, the warmth of his brown eyes and the frown lines on his forehead. He was there, you were okay. You knew that you were. You were completely safe.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled. He shook his head and moved forward to rest his forehead against yours. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a short peck.

“Don’t gotta be sorry. Do you wanna take ‘em with food?” He asked. You hummed out in agreement and he pressed another short kiss to your lips, “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll bring it over.” You let out a ragged sigh of relief and he got up. You curled back up on the sofa, water abandoned on the coffee table while you waited. 

When he came back, he had your favorite takeout plated up for you and you couldn’t help but smile. He knew you so well and even if you couldn’t smell how good it was, you knew that it was going to be amazing. The two of you shuffled so that you were sat comfortably together under the duvet before digging in.

It was about halfway through eating that Frank swayed the conversation back to the pills. It was a simple request and you decided to just do it. So, you grabbed the two pills and threw them back with the glass of water. You probably drank too much water but you didn’t want to risk the feeling of them in your throat.

You placed the glass of water down and Frank grinned.

“Attagirl.” You smiled bashfully at the praise even if it was over something so stupid. He leaned over and kissed your cheek before the two of you continued to eat and talk about your day. You were ranting about work and one of your less-than-friendly colleagues. Frank couldn’t help but bitch with you about the assholes you worked with. If you let him, he would do anything to make them treat you better but you had insisted that it was fine.

It was nice to just be able to relax with Frank and the thought of taking the pills hadn’t been so scary now that Frank was here. He made it so easy to not even think about it as he distracted you with questions and food and smiles. It was a comfortable, easy routine. You were so glad he had decided to ignore you and come over.

<3

[chellestrash]

Pretty and Sweet

Frank Castle x F!Reader

request: Omg I got Drabble in my mind Please write Frank Castle being obsessed with reader wearing Lacey pinky clothes because she looks cute in it and then he says things like“Such a pretty girl” “you look adorable in this I should get you clothes, would you like that sweetheart?”Or him being a soft dom and overstiming the reader in their lingerie“Just one more sweet girl”“your shaking honey” Just like praising her the whole time and being sweet but is being rough 🤭 Frank just gives that vibe he’d be so sweet

warnings: pet names, explicit language, smut, teasing, fingering (f!receiving), sub!reader, dom!frank

word count: 1k

a/n: i haven't done requests in sooooo long I'm not even sure if I know what to do anymore. I know this tool a lot longer than it probably should and I'm aware its not exactly what you asked for anon but i did my best i hope you get to enjoy it. If you end up reading it please let me know what you think!

“You gonna wear all that and then try to tell me you weren't trying to get my attention, sweetheart. Huh?”

Frank's voice rumbles through the air, filling the dark space of the bedroom the moment his body leans over yours. You smile a soft innocent smile, contrary to the current situation you found yourself in. 

“I just thought they were pretty.”

Dragging your finger over the straps of the pastel pink lingerie, you trace your eyes up and back to his face. The warm feeling at the bottom of your stomach gradually grows stronger as you let Frank's eyes skim over your body. His big hands were on either side of your head, his chest hung in the air over your own, one of his knees now wedged between your legs.

“Yeah?”

The firm frown on his face makes the muscles in your thighs twitch slightly and for a second you wonder if he noticed. He did. His eyebrows raise slightly and an unimpressed expression on his face when he glances down and back up into your eyes the second your body betrays you.

“Really?”

You fight with yourself, trying to play this off as nonchalantly as possible but you know, you know with Frank, with the way he knows his way around you, that's nearly impossible. 

“One question is all it takes to get to you, sweetheart?”

“Frank.”

You begin to explain yourself, the heat on your face prickling slightly when his eyes trace over your body one more time.

“Shh shh shh.”

That goddamn whisper. You swallow hard, feeling his thumb brush over the edge of your lower lip. The pounding in your chest picks up slightly.

“Just wanted me to see you in this, huh?”

You nod, a silent confirmation followed by Frank's quiet, low chuckle. 

“Right so, let's say I believe you, yeah?”

With your eyes fixed on his you listen, your chest rising and falling faster than before when his hand finally caresses your body. 

“Do you like it?”

You whisper, your hand now resting on his bigger one. His fingers brush over your sides, over the soft fabric of the lacy details. Frank scoffs, not at your question, only at the fact that you try to question the way he could feel about this. 

“Really gonna ask me that?”

Tracing over the straps, his eyes drop one more time. Following his gaze, his fingers trace over the many straps and buckles of your pastel pink lingerie set. You watch as he lets out a quiet grunt, followed by a hum when his eyes shut for a moment.

“Such a pretty girl, huh?”

Mumbling the praise he finds your eyes again, a split second before your body involuntarily reacts to his words.

“All that for me?”

Squirming under his body, you nod quickly. The need for his touch rises with every other minute he chooses to devote to letting the situation get the best of you. 

“Frankie, answer me.”

Feeling brave, you use the pet name to get his attention. His focus is now on your face once more, eyebrows raised, impressed with your choice of words.

“Oh, look at that, using your big girl words today?”

Moving his knee to the side, Frank pushes your legs apart slightly more. His hands are still on your side, rubbing over your exposed skin. The touch feels reassuring and so do his words. 

“Just want to know if you like the set. I picked it up in the store I thought it-”

“Sweetheart, the only place this thing would look better is right there on the floor.”

He nods his head to the side and you feel yourself getting warmer again. Rising your hips slightly, you gently grind against his leg once, then pause, waiting for his response. 

“You wanna ruin these? Hmm, you think it's worth it, sweetheart?”

Dragging his fingers down your stomach and then over the fabric, Frank begins to rub slow, gentle circles over your center through the pink fabric. Your lips part with a quiet gasp and your fingers wrap tightly around his free hand. The touch you’ve waited on for so long now, finally where you wanted it the most. Thankful for his decision,you breathe out relieved. Relaxing your body into Frank's palm, you confirm your desire for his attention. 

“That okay? Hmm? Can I touch you here, baby?”

The pressure intensifies slightly, your breath hitches, legs pressing together faster than you can even attempt to stop it.

“Mhm.”

You murmur, not wanting his question to remain hanging in the silence of the room.

“Think we're gonna have to get rid of those, huh, sweetheart?”

The question rings out in your head as you try your best to focus on Frank's words once more. Hooking his fingers over the waistband of the lower part of the pink underwear, he pulls the fabric down, his body moving as he leans closer to you. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, he presses a gentle kiss right under your belly button. His warm kisses follow the soft sensation of the fabric brushing over your skin while Frank exposes more and more of you with every kiss. 

Finally touching you without the barrier of the garment, Frank chuckles softly, satisfied but not surprised with how much the whole situation got to you.

“Attagirl, you like that, huh?”

Paired with his touch the question has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and you dig your nails into his palm. 

“Fr-”

You start, but pause, biting your lip once he slips his finger inside you slowly.

“Shhh shhh shhh, that's it, sweet girl, that's it.”

Turning his head to the side, he plants the kiss on the inside of your thigh, the touch even softer than the kisses from moments ago. After pulling them out, he pushes his fingers inside again, then again and again. The repeated motion picks up pace as he begins to work his thumb over your clit.

“Oh f-mmmm.”

You hum, and he scoffs loudly, breaking the overly sweet character. He can't help but tease you and your hips buck up slightly.

“Shit, sweetheart, really? That much?”

“Frank-”

“You wanna say something? Hmm? Think you’ll have to speak up, baby.”

The pet name contrasts with the teasing character of the statement and your body reacts one more time. 

“Cause if you won't talk sweetheart. I think this will take a long, looong time.”

[shiorimakibawrites]

Favorite Part (Kinktober Day 5)

Personal Masterlist for Kinktober 2023

FlightlessAngelWings’ prompt list can be found here

Day 5 - Threesome

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Frank Castle x AFAB! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1277

Warnings: Threesome, dirty talk, praise, Dom! Matt, Dom! Frank, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex, voyeurism, masturbation, mild finger play, referenced oral sex (f and m receiving)

Tagging: @flightlessangelwings

Favorite Part

You were sitting on Matt’s lap, your back resting against his torso and your head resting on his shoulder. Your legs were draped over his thighs, allowing him to use his knees to splay your legs wide. Something he used to display your bare cunt to Frank. Who, judging by the bulge in his jeans, appreciated the view.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Frank?” Matt asked, conversationally. Like you weren’t naked. Like he hadn’t just been fingering you. Like your legs weren’t still trembling from the resulting orgasm.

“Yeah, she is, Red,” he answered, his eyes roaming over your body with growing hunger. His voice was already getting husky.

“What’s your favorite part?” Matt asked. He slide his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. You gasped as his fingers pinched the already stiffen nipples. “These gorgeous tits? Or . . .”

One hand left your breast to toy with your clit. Already sensitive from the earlier attention there, you let out a stuttering moan. “Or this pretty pussy?”

“Damn hard choice there, Red.”

“Quite. And I haven’t even mentioned her perky ass or that wonderful mouth yet.”

“Which one is your favorite?”

Matt made a thoughtful noise as he continued to rub your clit. “As you said, it’s very difficult question. I’m very partial to her ass but if I had to choose . . . this pretty pussy might win.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons,” Matt said, thrusting two fingers inside you and earning himself a high-pitched cry. “How delightful she tastes. The melody of sounds she makes. How it feels inside her.”

“Yeah?” Frank said. He had already opened his jeans and was pulling his boxers down to free his cock.

“Nothing like it,” Matt answered, curling his fingers to brush that spongy spot inside you. You panted and squirmed, that familiar pressure already starting to build.

“Careful, sweetheart,” He gently scolded, moving his free hand to grip your thigh and move it back into it’s splayed position. “You don’t want to ruin Frank’s view, do you?”

You frantically shook your head.

He smiled. “That’s my sweet girl.”

“Appreciate it, darling,” Frank said, groaning as his hand wrapped around his cock and he began to stroke himself. “Maybe you should reward her for being such a good girl for us.”

Matt hummed thoughtfully. “I think you are right, Frank. What do you want as reward, sweet girl?”

You moaned. He wanted you to think? Now?!

“Words, sweet girl,” he reminded you as his fingers continued to work. “We need words.”

Your half-lidded eyes landed on Frank’s cock. Big, hard and already leaking . . . you said, “F-Frank.”

“You want Frank?” Matt asked. At your shaky nod, he asked, “That okay with you, Frank?”

“More than okay, Red,” Frank answered, raising to his feet. He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and stepped out of them. He climbed onto the bed and crawled toward you into he was between your legs. Your eyes never left his cock.

“How do you want from me, darling?” Frank asked. “My fingers? My mouth? Or my dick?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question. All sounded terrific. And Matt’s fingers were making it so hard for you to think about anything else.

“Maybe not fingers,” Matt said. “She’s had fingers twice today. A reward ought be something more.”

“Good point, Red. So which will be, darling? Should I eat you out? Or do you want me to fuck you?”

“A moment, Frank,” Matt said. He withdrew his fingers, ignoring your protesting whine. He held out those fingers. “Maybe you should have a taste first?”

Frank wasted no time in grabbing that hand and engulfing those fingers in his mouth. He moaned, a sound echoed by Matt. The attorney’s cock, just as hard as Frank’s, started grinding against your ass in response to whatever Frank was doing to his fingers.

Forever and all too soon, Frank pulled his mouth off those fingers with an obscene sucking sound.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding about how good she tastes,” he said, licking his lips. He grinned. “Your fingers weren’t bad either, Red.”

“Frank . . . ,” Matt gasped out.

Frank studied him, considering. Then his grin turned smug and a little predatory. “This wrecked from a little finger action, Red? Imagine if I had been doing that to your dick?”

The image your imagination painted had you groaning. Frank flashed you a grin. “Would you like to see that, darling?

You nodded eagerly. Matt laughed, a little breathless still, and patted your thigh. “Not right now, sweet girl. You still haven’t answered Frank’s earlier question. Do you want him to eat you out or fuck you?”

Your head was a little clearer now but it was still a tough question. Judging by what he did to Matt, Frank had a talented mouth. But your cunt clenching around the empty air made the decision for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you answered.

“Gladly,” he said, gripping the base of his cock. He started to rub it through your folds, coating himself in your slick. The first brush of the head against your clit might have been an accident but the second time certainly wasn’t.

“So wet, darling,” Frank groaned before he positioned himself at your entrance and started to push inside you. You threw your head back against Matt’s shoulder, gasping.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted as he sank in another inch. “She always this tight?”

“Yes,” Matt answered, cupping your breasts and starting to knead them. “It’s one of my favorite things about her pussy. Always needs a moment to adjust to being filled. Always gripes my cock like a vice. She always whines when I withdraw from this pussy. You love being filled, don’t you, sweet girl?”

Your only answer was a warbling moan as Frank bottomed out. Full, you were so full. Matt was the only other man who had ever made you feel so full.

“Answer Red, darling,” Frank said, a note of warning in his voice. He gave you a hard thrust that almost pushed you back to the edge. “Otherwise I’m not moving.”

As promised, he stayed right where he was. He felt so good buried inside you but you needed more. You needed him to fuck you. You whined and tried to fuck yourself on him but Matt gripped your hips. Holding you in place. Keeping you in that limbo of feeling so good but not enough.

“None of that,” Matt growled. “Don’t start being a bad girl. Now answer me and Frank. Tell us how much you love being filled. How much you love being fucked.”

It didn’t take long for desperation to overcome your embarrassment at saying such things. “I love it. Love being filled by your cock. Always want you inside me. Love being fucked. I love it. I love it . . .”

Your litany turned into a keening cry when Frank started thrusting. No building up to it, just immediately fucking you hard. All the while, Matt ground his hard cock against your ass. Your ears were filled with Frank’s grunts, Matt’s softer moans, and your own high-pitched cries.

Probably because you had already been dancing along that edge, you were the first to come. Screaming Frank’s name as your cunt clenched around him earning yourself a beautiful moan from the man. Matt was close behind you, spilling himself all over your ass and back. Another couple hard thrusts, then with a loud groan, Frank was releasing inside you.

“So,” Frank said minutes later, after he got enough breath back to talk. “Whose up for round two?”

[amhrosina]

I Wanna Love Me The Way That You Love Me

(Frank Castle x f!Reader) - Hurt/Comfort

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

Summary: Frank uses a mirror to remind insecure!reader how beautiful she is. (In a fluffy and a smutty way!)

Warnings: reader is not very kind to herself, fluffy frank, like FLUFFY frank!!!!, super soft!boy frank, the softest of franks ive ever written, some body descriptions but I tried to keep it super vague, (later on) whew chile smuttttt, fingering, frank makes you watch yourself come in a mirror (lmfao), frank is sort of a dom but in the loosest sense, frank just loves reader so much!!!!!)

A/N - Thank you to @wheredidiputmyfish for being an absolute doll of a beta reader!!! I have a couple more Frank fics otw (i cant help it, i love that stupid man) and a poly!fratt x reader one hopefully soon after that!

You huffed as you pulled the green blouse over your head, annoyed that yet another online purchase didn’t fit right on your body. Just this week alone, you’d already made two trips to the post office, and Frank was bound to ask questions if you went for a third time so soon.  

You couldn’t even remember why you’d started buying nicer clothes to begin with, except that Karen always looked nice and Frank had been in love with her at one point, so why wouldn’t the same concept apply to you? The only problem was that you couldn’t seem to find anything that fit you correctly, and the idea that Frank might grow bored with your everyday attire kept you up at night. And of course, Frank had never actually said anything about your clothing choice – this was just the overthinking part of your brain going into overdrive. 

You flopped onto the mattress, shoving your face into your palms and groaning. You couldn’t figure out exactly what Frank saw in you, and it was hard not to compare yourself to his late wife or Karen. They were both beautiful women – definitely Frank’s type – and that was not exactly how you’d describe yourself. The thought of it brought tears to your eyes again. You quickly blinked them away when you heard the front door shut. 

You joined Frank in the living room, where he was removing his boots. You threw the package you needed to return on the table by the door, and though you tried to do this casually, Frank noticed it and your expression immediately. 

“You sendin’ care packages to some other boyfriend or somethin’?” He teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You giggled. “No. It’s just another return.” 

“Not that I’m not supporting this new wardrobe thing,” he started, eyeing the package by the door, “but why are you returnin’ everything you buy?” 

You shrugged. “It just doesn’t fit right.”  

“I bet you look great.” 

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged again, avoiding his eyes as you stepped into the kitchen. 

“Sweetheart.” He followed you into the kitchen, though it was clear he was struggling to figure out how to broach the topic. “Is everything okay? You’re talkin’ down about yourself again.” 

Your smile faltered slightly. “I’m fine.”  

“Baby,” Frank wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your chest into his, “You’re not fine. You wanna know how I know that?” 

You remained silent, avoiding eye contact, but nodded. 

“Because you won’t look at me.” You lifted your chin and stared into his warm gaze out of spite. “And because I know you and I love you, I know that you start avoiding me when you feel bad because you think I’m going to miraculously start to hate you and leave.” 

You didn’t respond, instead gnawing on your cheek and curling into yourself. Frank’s hold around your waist remained steady, and as you tried to look away from his meaningful gaze, his hand gripped your chin and held it steady, too.  

“You’re beautiful, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I love you no matter what you do or wear or say. You’re beautiful.”  

You tried to push away from Frank, suddenly aware that you hadn’t fixed your makeup or hair that morning. He was lying. He had to be lying, right? No one thought that about you, least of all Fra- 

“Don’t.” Frank was gentle in his coaxing, running his knuckle over your cheekbone in a soothing pattern while pressing his fingers into the small of your back. “Don’t do that to yourself. I love you. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You have to trust me.” 

You fiddled with your fingers, wringing them together in an uneasy gesture, unsure of what to say. He gently grasped them and pulled them into his chest, cradling them as he held your gaze.  

“Come with me. I wanna show you somethin’.” He murmured, tilting his head toward the bedroom.  

You followed close behind him, curiosity outshining your desire to crawl into bed and never get out. He led you to a stop in front of the full-length mirror, resting his hands on your shoulders behind you. A clear and decisive frown formed on your face. The last thing you wanted to do was look at yourself. 

“What do you see?” he asked, holding your gaze through the mirror. 

“What?” You furrowed your brow. 

“What do you see, sweetheart? Be honest.” he asked again, patting your shoulders encouragingly. 

“Well, um,” you breathed, starting at the top of your head and making your way down with your observations, “I see dull hair, bags under my eyes, and a nose that’s too big. My shoulders are broad, my hips are too wide, my skin looks lifeless, and I’m wondering why you ever gave me the time of day and why you stay with me when there are so many people out there that would look better standing next to you.” 

Frank stayed quiet throughout your assessment, expression turning grave as you brought up your deepest insecurities about yourself. He let you finish your observations before pressing a long kiss to your head. 

“Now ask me what I see.” he prompted. Confusion overcame your features again, but he silenced your doubts with an encouraging nod.  

“What do you see, Frankie?” You quietly asked, unsure if you really wanted to hear what he had to say. 

He brought his finger to your face, tracing each element as he pointed them out in the mirror. 

“I see a pair of beautiful eyes and a perfect nose. I see the most sensual lips I’ve ever felt pressed against my mouth. I see a beautiful, strong body that can handle anything thrown its way. Remember when you had to carry me from the living room to the bedroom after I passed out? That shit was impressive, sweetheart.” A soft smile rested on his face as he continued. He folded his arms around your middle and pulled your body against his. “I see hands that hold my entire heart in them, and a body that has all my love. You’re beautiful, baby, and I love you so much. Every piece of you.” 

You tried to blink away the tears that clouded your vision, but Frank’s speech combined with his gentle touch and open expression sent a wave of tears down your face. You curled into his hold, turning so you could bury your face in his chest. He cradled you against him while you cried, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few minutes until you were calm enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. 

He swiped his thumbs through the tears that had gathered under your eyes. “Are you okay?”  

You nodded, blinking up at him. “Thank you. I love you,” you murmured. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, which had always been his way of showing love. “Anytime, sweetheart. You hear me? Anytime.” 

- 

Bonus Scene: In which Frank comforts you in the bedroom later. 

“Frank, what are you doing?”  

Your tone was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, combined with the lazy haze that had taken over your body for the time being. Frank had jumped up from his relaxed position between your legs, where he’d licked up every bit of your desire after making you see stars, and had begun fiddling with the floor length mirror across the bedroom. 

“Hang on.” He called over his shoulder, tugging the heavy glass across the carpet. 

“Why are you moving the mirror?”  

“Wanna try somethin’.” 

He stepped back, looking between your slick, bare skin and the mirror with a smug expression. You were now face to face with your reflection, and as soon as you realized Frank's plan, a string of fire worked its way directly to your core.  

“Wanna show you how perfect you are.” He crawled on the bed behind you, settling himself before tugging your body back against his. Both sets of eyes, yours and Franks, were focused on you, and boy were you a sight to behold.  

Your limbs, still shaky from your first orgasm were splayed out, giving both you and Frank the perfect view of your glistening cunt, which was busy clenching around air as Frank worked his needy fingers down your skin. 

“Shit, baby. You look fuckin’ perfect like this.” He breathed. The proximity of his warmth to your ear sent a wave of goosebumps down your body, and you had to fight the urge to clench your legs together. “Look at how beautiful you are, sweet thing.” He murmured, holding his gaze on the treasure between your legs. 

You looked, fully looked, and felt heat crawling up your neck as his sensuous fingers swiped through your arousal. A low groan emanated from his throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from circling your clit. You watched as a moan left your mouth, your back slightly arching against Frank’s chest.  

“You see how perfect you are, sweet girl?” He cooed, circling your clit again. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy.” 

His other hand began to rub your nipple in light circles, and if that weren’t enough to have you gasping for air, the touch of his lips to the spot below your ear was. You squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back against Frank’s shoulder. His fingers halted – no, everything halted – and the whine that came from his sudden stoppage wasn’t entirely a conscious decision of yours. 

“You stop looking, I stop moving, sweetheart. You got that? Keep your eyes open.” he asked, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His gaze held no room for negotiation, so you shyly nodded before returning your gaze to your body. His focus remained on your flushed face, panting as he worked you closer to another orgasm.  

You could see what he was talking about. For the first time in a long time, the girl that looked back in the mirror wasn’t someone you shied away from. She was beautiful, and confident, and sensual, and she looked good next to Frank.  

“You look stunning, baby.” He murmured. 

“I know.” You responded, briefly lifting your eyes to his before returning them to his fingers. His winning smile was priceless – wide and open and beautiful, and you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. 

Light twinkled in your eyes as he inched you closer and closer to your release, and as soon as you locked eyes with Frank again, you were a goner. 

Frank worked his fingers around your clit, coaxing out one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. It washed over you in waves of fire, and it was a struggle to keep your eyes open for it, but you were glad he had asked you to, because you looked glorious coming around his fingers. 

You panted, body gleaming with sweat. Your heartbeat finally slowed as you leaned against Frank for support. He ran soothing hands over your limbs, massaging feeling back into them and kissing every inch of skin that he could reach in the process. The silence as you returned to your body was long, but comfortable, and when you finally had full use of your limbs again, you pulled Frank’s arms around you.  

He kissed your hair, resting his cheek on your head. 

“Do you see what I see now?” he asked, glancing at you through the mirror. You nodded, carefully lifting your chin so you could look at him – the real him – to respond.  

“I love you.”  

He grinned, leaning down and planting a sloppy kiss to your lips. 

“I love you, sweet girl.”

-

Tag List:

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[littlespacereader]

Hiii!!! If requests are open I was wondering if you'd be willing to write some Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons or a fic.

Completely fine if not!!! <333

Have an amazing day/afternoon/night!!!

@aew-kun-age-regression !! YES!!! It would be my honor and pleasure to write Caregiver Frank Castle!! After writing the Matt Murdock Headcannons and adding the small section at the end with Frank, I couldn’t help but want to write more about Frank as a Caregiver! He’s just so tough and broken that I feel like a Little would be just the thing to heal and help him🥹 It was such a hard choice but I decided to do Frank Castle Headcannons. But if you find some inspiration from this please send me another request and I’d happily write a fic around Frank! So here is Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons! Please enjoy!!🥹💞

Caregiver Frank Castle Headcannons

Tw- violence, mentions of trauma and death.

Frank never expected to be your Caregiver. After everything that happened with his family, he thought he would just be alone for the rest of his life. That was until Y/N came into his life. You sort of adopted Frank and not vice versa.

Y/N was looking into some shady business going down in Hell’s Kitchen when they got wrapped into it and badly hurt. Frank saved them and brought them back to his home to tend to their injuries. But the injuries scared them so badly that they regressed once they felt safe and cared for in Frank’s home.

Frank, being no stranger to trauma responses and coping mechanisms, immediately understood what was happening. At first he was nervous, taking care of you as if you were made of glass, but then as the night went on he started to return to his old fatherly Caregiver self and he started to enjoy it.

After that night you asked Frank to be your Caregiver. He refused at first, not because of you but because of himself. He is so afraid he will hurt you or you’ll get hurt because of him. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, trust that he hasn’t felt as calm or at peace then when he was taking care of you, it’s because he’s traumatized.

But after asking, and asking, and asking over and over again, he finally breaks down and agrees. Now not only is Y/N happier and safer than ever but Frank is healing and becoming his old self again. He truly relaxes when he’s around his Little one. You see slowly but surely the old father side of him that was once locked away coming back to him in full swing.

Nickname wise he starts out with the standard kid or kiddo for Y/N as he start to get used to being a Caregiver again. But as time go on he really gets into the use of nicknames such as: Prince/Princess/Royalty (depending on your gender), his personal favorite troublemaker, sweet one and pumpkin.

Frank is a girldad for sure. What I mean by this is not that he is only for Femm little, no no no, what I mean is he isn’t one of those overly masculine men that’s afraid of showing his feminine side.

You want to have a tea party with him? He’s the guest of honor! Want to paint his nails? He hands you his hand. Want to play dress up? He’ll gladly wear a dress or a fancy tux. The point is, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for his little one. Even if it isn’t “something a manly man would do.” He could care less. For him it’s all about his little ones happiness.

Speaking of that, like most Caregivers he is completely open to his Littles needs. Diaper, pull-up, sippy cup, bottles, pacifiers, stuffies, ect. Whatever you want/need for your regression. He is all for it!

He keeps his life as the Punisher far away from his life with his little one. That’s the last thing he wants you tangled up in.

Y/N has to be patient with him because at times he can be very overprotective of them.

They rarely go out to the park, or beach or anything public. Not that he is afraid to be seen with you, he used to not be a bragger but now he is when it come to you. The fear of being out in public comes from his fear of someone hurting you while the two of you are out…just like what happened to his family.

Because of this you guys are homebodies. But Frank makes it fun! He makes elaborate pillow forts, special movie nights, drawing contest and crazy games of hide and seek in their home so that his little one is always entertained.

Frank LOVES art work from his Little one. Every photo to him is a work of art. It’s gotten so bad that the fridge is just a pile of papers now. “What’s this? Oh WOW! Look at this!! You did such a great job! I love it! It’s a masterpiece that deserves it’s time on the fridge don’t you think?”

Frank is on the stricter side when it comes to rules and such. He isn’t easily a pushover so it’s hard to convince him when he’s made his mind up…but that doesn’t stop you from trying though!

“Can I have another cookie?” “How many have you had already?” “Two.” “Yeah, two too many. You’re not having another before dinner. You just have to wait.” “But two isn’t a good number! Three is! See, two is even which is good but then the one extra cookie is good luck.” Frank just gives them a look. “I’ll wait till after dinner.” They sigh. “That’s what I thought.”

Frank…IS A CUDDLER! There’s nothing he enjoys more than to snuggle up on the couch, little one in his lap, and watch tv together. He loves the security of having them close to him at all times, but he also loves to cuddle.

At night, if they’re comfortable with it, he holds them close and they fall asleep resting their head in his chest. This helps ground him and allow him to fall asleep without the fears and anxiety that used to keep him awake. When he does have a nightmare, his little one helps him through it.

Aft first he was embarrassed and ashamed of himself for being so vulnerable after a nightmare. But he quickly learned that for as much as he does for his Little, they do the same if not more for him. He’s slowly working through his trauma and it’s because of Y/N.

When it comes to Frank’s friends…he doesn’t have many. He doesn’t trust most of the people in his life besides his little one. But there are a few he can trust and who he introduces Y/N too.

Karen is the first and she’s super kind and gentle. She’s extremely happy Frank has Y/N as she quickly sees a change in him, a very good change. She helps out when Y/N’s regressed and he needs to go out on a business call.

Matt was a bit of a shock to Frank as they started out enemies. But once Matt gained Frank’s trust, he became a close ally to Frank and his Little. Matt is also extremely kind and gentle. He loves to play with Y/N and is always sneaking them sweets behind Frank’s back.

Now if it wasn’t the reader being Frank’s Little, Matt or Karen would definitely his Littles. Karen is a bit older than Matt headspace wise but the two get along well! Matt is always snuggling next to Frank while he reads and Karen paints his nails. Again, he didn’t ask to be their Caregiver, but they just adopt him. And who was he to refuse?

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Frank Castle X Reader: Bloody savior

Explicit content ahead (mdni)

Warning: Shower sex, breeding kink (lightly), smut, kissing, creampie, penetration (p in v), size difference, mentions of masturbation, sexual fantasies, use of 'sir', description of killing, blood, death, fighting, use of weapons, cruising.

Summary: Frank got caught and you came to the rescue. When getting cleaned up smut ensues

Word count: 4K

You had this look in your eyes. A manic kind of look. Like a hungry animal who’d just caught a whiff of blood for the first time in weeks. Castle knew that look. He was familiar with it. He had it when he’d been in Afghanistan and he’d brought it back home with him. He could put it away, ignore the hunger for a while but whether he liked it or not it was always there in the back of his mind. In Frank the hunger was fueled by revenge. Ever since what happened with his family it seemed that the hunger had become insatiable. He’d learned to live with it. Learned to control it. But every once in a while it’d break free and hell would break loose. You’d come into Frank's life as a pleasant surprise, an ally, a friend and eventually a partner. You were different in various aspects but the thing that tied you to each other was your desire to make things right. Whatever it took. You didn’t have training like Frank, you’d never served but you knew your way around a gun. Your dad had made sure of that.  Because of this you knew how to keep up with Castle. Knew how to clean your weapons, keep them nice and polished but most importantly you knew how to use them when the time came. You were a hell of a good shot, not better than Frank but then again few were more capable at warfare then him. He lived off it, thrived in the chaos. You only chose violence when there was no other way. 

They had left you with no other choice. 

The minute Frank didn’t  return from his stakeout you knew something was wrong. Knew they got to him somehow. Nearly no one knew he was alive and the ones who did were set on making sure he wouldn’t see another day. That meant you were his only chance, and by god were you going to make sure you got him out alive. 

With Lebiermans help you managed to find Frank's possible location and made your way to it. Once you surveyed the area, taking note of possible exits in the building. You managed to sneak into the second floor deck moving quickly as you tried to pinpoint where they were keeping Frank. You had expected them to be holding somewhere underground, that would have been the smart choice, but to your surprise they had him in one of the upper bedrooms, the one with a bigass window. It was too risky to simply break the glass and jump in. The noise would attract to much unwanted attention and by what you had managed to see Frank seemed to be passed out in the chair he’d been tied to.YOu wondered how these fools had gotten a jump on Frank when you remembered he’d been injured in your last mission and hadn’t had the proper time to heal completely. 

Fucking cowards. 

You gritted your teeth as you tried to figure out a way into the room that would make you have to deal with too many people. Just as you were about to make a move the door to the room opened. You ducked down, getting into a position that allowed you to see what was happening while at the same time not letting yourself be seen. You watched as a large man made his way towards Frank, followed by two buff men carrying guns.  The large man, who you believed to be the leader of the gang, got to Frank and slapped him hard in the face. Frank flinched awake, his body moving against his restraints. You couldn’t hear what they were saying through the glass but it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on. They were trying to pull information out of Frank but he wasn’t talking. You watched Frank's features seeing them twist into his signature snarl. You hesitated for a moment, maybe it would be best to let Frank handle these three by himself and once the rest came in you’d make your entrance. The thought was gone in a matter of seconds. The leader had pulled out a knife cutting the once almost healed wound in Frank's shoulder. Frank's face scrunched up in pain, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Even as blood gushed down Frank's arm he refused to talk. Clearly annoyed by the lack of answers the gang leader began punching Frank. He kept hitting Frank with everything he had. The grip on your weapon tightened. You were going to make them pay for this.

Frank was used to pain. He’d learned to live with it. Even so the blood he was losing was making his head spin and the constante plowing he was receiving was causing his brain to hurt. He should be trying to get out of his chains. Should be trying to grab the knife on his enemy's hip but he couldn’t get himself to move. For a moment he wondered if this was it. After everything he was going to die in some shit house because of some idiot gang. Just as he’d begun to accept that maybe this was the end he heard shooting outside. His attacker's punch stopped in the middle of the air, his head turning towards the sound of guns firing.

“What the hell is going on out there?”

“I think someone broke in, boss.”

“That’s impossible.”

The noise of bullets was exchanged by the sound of screams. It kept growing closer. The sound of bodies falling to the ground becoming more and more consistante. Frank saw the fear in the eye of the three men before him.

“You two watch the door and don't let anyone come in until I'm done with this one.”

Frank watched as the boss turned to face him, his fist rising in the air once more when silence overtook the room. These fools had no idea what that meant. In their head the quiet meant it was over. It lulled them into a false sense of security. Made them think that they were safe. Frank knew what it meant though. It was your signature move. Make the enemy think he’d won and once they let their guard down you atack. Frank couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re dead.”

The three men turned to face him, the unexpected tranquility being replaced by fear.

“Big talk for someone strapped to a chair.”

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

The moment the words left his mouth the door of the room blew off its hinges.

You wasted no time the second your eyes caught onto one of them you ponced. You latched onto one of the men slitting his throat with ease. The other lackey started to fire at you but his gun jammed. You looked at him, a smile gracing your features as you raced toward him pushing him into the wall before head bumping him and sticking your blade into his neck. His body slumped to the ground, blood gushing from his wound as you pushed your knife deeper. You snapped your head in Frank's direction, eyes falling on the boss. He was a big man. Larger than you but he was unarmed and you were fueled by an abnormal amount of adrenaline. You could take him. You moved like a cat, twisting your blade in your palm as you waited for your prey to move. You glanced at Frank upon noticing how beat up he looked your shoulders sagged a bit. Your pity quickly turned to rage, a scream leaving your lips as you charged at the larger man. He grabbed you with ease pushing you against a wall and hitting you in the chest. You went to move your hand to stab him in the stomach but he grabbed your arm before you could get a good angle. He hit your hand against the wall causing you to release your weapon. You bit into your lip to the point that it drew blood. You had been backed into a corner and you hated the feeling. 

“Not so tough now hum?”

You spit onto the man's face watching anger appear on his face.

“You little bitch.”

His hands wound around your throat cutting off your ability to breath. YOu kicked at his legs trying to get him off you. Frank struggled against his chains as he tried to get to you.

“Hey! Let her go, she's got nothing to do with this!”

“Ah you like this one do you Frank?”

“Just let her go and I'll tell you what you want.”

“She killed my men. No way I'm letting her live.”

Your face was starting to turn red due to the lack of air but you kept fighting against the man's grip. You placed your hands against his stomach trying to push him off. Your hand skimmed at the handle of the knife near his hip, fingers trying to grab it while you could. You looked at Frank trying to tell him your plan without speaking. He got the message giving you a nod as he started talking, just spewing random shit out of his mouth to distract your attacker. When Frank mentioned the man's family his hands slacked ever so slightly allowing you to get a grip on his weapon. Before he could even notice what had happened you stabbed him in the stomach. He turned to look at you, his face contorting in pain as he stumbled away from you. You fell to the ground gasping for air. You couldn’t hear anything anymore except for the dull thud of your heartbeat. You rose from the ground charging at the man once more. Since he was hurt you managed to knock him down much easier then last time. YOu straddled his hips, filling your eyes as you stared down at the man. YOu raised your hand and stabbed him in the neck. You repeated the action over and over again, a scream leaving your throat with every stab. You knew he was dead. Could see the lack of life in his eyes but you couldn't stop yourself from plunging your blade into his body. Frank called out your name causing you to look at him. He took in your appearance. You were covered in blood. Your hair had turned red due to the amount that covered you. When he looked at your eyes he wasn't greeted by their usual warmth. You were looking at him like a rabid animal, your hands latched onto your weapon for dear life.

“It’s over. He’s dead.”

You glanced at the man beneath you before turning to look back at Frank. When your eyes fell on Frank's face they softened a bit. You rose from where you were making your way to Frank. He watched you come to him, his body relaxing once he realized you’d weren’t looking at him like he was a piece of meat anymore. You kneeled in front of him picking the locks on his chain before looking up at him. You placed a hand on his face. Frank watched you look up at him with your eyes full of love before falling onto the blood on your hand. Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself seeing the damage you’d caused for the first time. You moved your hand away from Frank trying to scrub the blood of your palms despair gracing your features as you failed to remove the red tint. Frank could tell you were starting to panic. You weren’t used to this much killing, especially not by yourself.

“Hey it’s okay. Look at me. 

You looked at Frank with lost eyes. It seemed like you’d just woken up from a daze. Frank got up from his chair pulling you off the ground before wrapping you in his embrace.

“Shhh it’s alright. It’s over. Let's go home.” 

You stumbled into your apartment removing your boots before making your way to the bathroom. Frank followed behind grabbing a towel on the way. You sat on top of the toilet  as Frank turned on the water to fill up the tub. You stripped your clothes, throwing them in a plastic bag before sinking into the warm water. Frank kneeled down soaking a sponge in the water and beginning to clean you up. You let him do what he needed sitting still as he washed the blood off your body. Perhaps it should have been weird, this was the first time he was seeing you naked yet for some reason this felt normal. 

“How’s your arm?”

“It will heal.”

“It was almost healed already.”

Frank heard the anger in your tone. He looked up at your face, finding you staring at his bare shoulder. There was a twinge of guilt in your expression. 

“Hey. This is not your fault.”

“I should have been quicker. Should have broken the window and just jumped in. Dragged you outside.”

“Would have called too much attention.”

“Right cause killing all of them won’t.”

“They were drug dealers and gangsters. No one will care, trust me I know.”

You closed your eyes, sighing  as Frank moved the sponge against your back. He watched as your shoulders sagged, finally calming down. You’d gone bat shit back there because they had hurt him. Frank didn’t have a lot of people who would risk themselves like that for him. He appreciated it.

“You’re gonna need to turn on the shower to wash your hair. There is too much blood.”

Frank got up to leave but you grabbed his wrist. He turned to look down at you. 

“You need a shower too.”

“Once you’re done I'll clean up.”

“We could share.”

Frank's breath hitched at the sound of your voice.

“You sure you’d be comfortable with that?”

You let out a laugh.

“Ever the gentleman Frank.”

You rose out of the water crossing your arms in front of your bare chest. Frank's eyes never left your face but he wouldn’t lie that he was tempted.

“I’m covered in the blood of people I killed for you. Pretty sure I can handle seeing you naked.”

You grinned at Frank's shocked expression. You always did like making him flustered. Frank mulled it over in his head for a moment before beginning to remove his clothes. His arm burned as he tried to remove his shirt.

“Here let me help.”

You stepped out of the tub moving closer to Frank so that you could reach the edge of his shirt.

“Raise your arms.”

Frank did what you asked, allowing you to remove his bloodied shirt from his body. A small gasp left your lips when your eyes fell onto the new wound fingers moving over it softly.

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches but we might have to bandage you up.”

“Okay.”

“Need help with your pants too?”

“Nah i got them. You can turn on the water.”

You nodded, turning around to face the shower. The shower head sprang to life in a matter of seconds. You put out your hand to see if the temperature was good.

“I think it's warm eno-”

The words died on your lips as you looked at Frank's naked frame. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d seen him without his shirt before and the way he was built didn’t leave much to the imagination but good lord he was big. Frank flushed under your gaze, his eyes running over your body as you stared at him.

“Like what you see?”

Your eyes snapped up to Frank's face, a blush growing in your cheeks once you realized he saw you checking him out. 

“I know I do.”

Ah fuck, why did he have to sound like that? Mustering all of your self restraint you moved into the shower glancing as Frank as you threw your head back under the water. 

“You gonna stare or you gonna join me?”

Frank let out a grin moving to get into the shower. Once he was inside he pulled the curtain close, blocking out the outside world. The two of you stared at each other for a while trying to figure out how to go about this. You made the first move, pulling Frank's hand with your and placing it on your hip.

“You’re too far away. The water is not even getting on you.”

“That’s why you want me closer? So the water gets to me?”

There was a playful tone in Frank's voice causing you to relax a bit.

“It doesn't make kissing you much easier either.”

“Oh well if you wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.”

Frank leaned down, closing the distance between your lips. It started off soft. The two of you explored the feeling of each other's lips but soon things got more intense. You bite into Frank's lips making him groan against your lips, his hands pulling you closer to him. Your breasts came in contact with his chest, nipples running against his skin and making you whimper against him. Frank loved the sounds coming out of you. It’d been a while since he’d had sex. He’d forgotten how good it was to hear the sound of someone's pleasure. You pulled away from Frank, ignoring him pout as you turned around. You pushed your ass up against Frank's dick listening to him groan as you rubbed yourself against him. His hands made their way to your hips guiding your movements.

“Shit. There you go, attagirl.”

You pushed your hands off the wall, your back making contact with Frank's chest as you pulled his hands away from your hip and guided them to cup your breast. He leaned down to kiss your neck, his fingers playing with your nipples as he rutted against you. You moaned at the feeling of his hard dick on your ass.

“I need you Frank, please.”

“Are you sure you're wet enough?”

You almost laughed at the question. You knew he meant if your pussy was wet anough but considering he was about to fuck you in the shower it was a funny thing to ask.

“Let me show you.”

You dragged one of his hands to your folds, allowing him to feel how wet you were. He let out a growl as he pushed a digit into your cunt.

“Dirty girl.”

“This is the cleanest I've been all afternoon, Frank.”

He laughed at your words moving to grab your chin.

“You and that mouth of yours.”

“I bet you love my mouth.”

“Oh I do.”

“You imagine it much? Me going down on you, I mean.”

The truth is that he did. Whenever he couldn’t sleep at night and the books didn’t help he’d close his eyes and think of you. It started off innocently: the sound of your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you were angry with him, the sound of your voice when you called his name. But soon those images turned into you on your knees before him gaging as you tried to take all of him in your mouth. Whenever the two of you slept near each other he feared he’d have a wet dream about you and ruin everything.

“I do.”

Frank had been so focused on remembering that he’d forgotten to answer you. You didn’t mind though your head leaned back on his chest as you talked.

“Evrytime you come back from a mission I get turned on. I don’t know what it is but something about the way you walk in. Chest puffed out hands bundled into fists. Something about this glow you get after a mission. It makes you, like, ten times hotter than average. Which is saying a lot because you're pretty damn hot.”

Frank placed another finger inside your cunt moving them in and out slowly. You gasped, mouth falling open at the feeling.

“What do I do? When you imagen me.”

“Ah-shit-uh loads of stuff. Sometimes you finger me until I can't talk. Or you’ll go down on me for hours. My favorites when you fuck me though. I imagen you let out the prettiest fucking sounds.”

“Ah fuck baby. Why’s that?”

“You moan when you’re in pain. I bet the sounds you make when you feel good are just as loud.”

“You wanna find out?”

“Please Frank. I’m ready, fill me up.”

Frank flipped you around, backing you up against the wall before pulling your leg to the side. He hesitated for a moment worried that he’d hurt you. You were smaller than him by a bit and from this angle you look smaller than normal.

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank met your gaze. You pulled him in for a kiss resting your forehead against his.

“You’d never hurt me. I trust you Frank. Go ahead.”

“If you need me to stop or slow down you tell me okay?”

“Okay.”

Frank groaned as he pushed his head into your cunt. You threw your head back, hands latching onto Frank's shoulders as he pushed in. Frank groaned against you taking deep breaths as he felt your pussy clench around him.

“You keep doing that, I'll cum.”

“Isn't that-ugh-the point.”

“I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Don’t worry we have time for another round if we need it.”

The idea of this becoming a regular occurrence did something to Frank's head. He plunged the rest of his dick into you, his hands keeping you still as you moaned in ecstasy.

“Tell me when to move.”

“Move Frank! For the love of god move.”

Frank started thrusting into you with a force you’d only seen him use when he was in a fight. Your nails dug into Frank's skin so harshly you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. You were right about Frank being vocal. He was groaning and whimpering against your neck as he thrusted against you which only made you wetter.

“Frank, I'm gonna cum.”

“Just a bit more, hold it a little okay? Think you can do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Attagirl.”

Frank's speed got faster, his hand releasing your hip as he made his way to your pussy, his finger finding your clit as he continued his movements.

“Come on baby come on.”

“Ah shit-ugh.”

“Let go baby let go.”

Frank gave a particularly rough thrust and you were seeing stars. You screamed out Frank's name as you came your head leaning against his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“Attagirl.”

YOu could tell Frank was close by the way his dick twitched inside you. You placed your hand against his cheek placing a kiss on his lips.

“Fill me up Frank come on. Fill me up with your cum.”

“You on the-”

“No, want you to fill me up. Want you to breed me.”

It was a shot in the dark. You weren’t sure if this would kill the mood or not. Franks family was an odd topic but something told you that he liked the idea of fucking his cum into someone until it took. You were glad you took the risk because right as you uttered the words Frank started cumming. As you felt his cum going down your thighs you felt kind of bad for lying to him about not being on the pill. You knew he’d understand though. The life you lead had no space for children. Frank knew that well.

Frank pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden lack of his presence inside you. He leaned down pulling your chin up so he could kiss you. His hands weaved inside your hair making him remember why you’d gotten into the shower in the first place.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 1)

Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange how one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.

Words: 4.1K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

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For what it's worth, you don't know the man who’s pointing the gun at your face. It is difficult, in these circumstances, to convince yourself that this was somehow brought on by choices made in the past, even with the sophisticated talent you have for self-condemnation. He's not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend, or an unstable relative you sassed one too many times over Thanksgiving dinner. He isn’t one of your past mistakes. He's just some guy. 

He's aiming an M1911 somewhere below your clavicles and shouting words you've never been on the receiving end of, and in the time it takes him to do so, you're successful in finding one good thing about this whole experience: at least he isn't making one of your employees stare down the barrel, even if they have to watch you do it from a few feet away. Eliza and Ramón are adults, enrolled in the local college and with bills to pay, but to you they may as well be children. 

The man has a stutter you only notice when he calls you a bitch for the second time, deeming you too fucking slow in emptying the cash register into his bag. You wonder how he reached the conclusion that four hundred dollars would be worth the hassle. Who robs a bakery on a Saturday morning? People sleep in, especially in a small town. Or, most people do. The dark-haired man sitting all the way in the back with a half-eaten stack of pancakes looks wide awake. You don't know him either, but you don't think he's from around here. 

It's weird, in a way, that you aren't really thinking about what's happening in front of you. A bubble has fogged up your attention, and all that you remark upon is how the mellow 80’s playlist you picked out for today hasn't abruptly stopped playing. Thus, you'll always remember the current song as the soundtrack to your first time getting robbed. While you gather the bills from their slots in the register, it strikes you that you didn't have a song for other firsts in life. Not that there were that many worthy of background music. If anything, this feels fitting precisely because you couldn't have predicted which song would be playing when some asshole would pull his gun on you. What used to be lyrical perfection to you will likely ring a little apropos, from now until forever. You will, indeed, be waiting on a sunny day after this — many thanks to Bruce Springsteen for distracting you. 

"Are you deaf, bitch? Move it over. " 

The bubble evaporates. Yeah. Real grateful. 

You're going to do as he asks, because you are not alone. You won’t risk any lives, even if the Colt's safety has been on this entire time. You wonder if it's even his gun, by the way his hand curls around it clumsily. No real, hardened criminal would get so close when they have a ranged weapon, and maybe you’re right, but you won't take your chances. Speed in retrieving your own weapon is not the issue here — it's that if you do, you have to use it. You're not so sure it's the best course of action, even if the skin at your back itches against the warm metal nestled there. 

He's young. He didn't even bother covering his face, and the eye-watering lime green of his jacket is the very opposite of stealth wear. Maybe he's desperate, or maybe this is his first time too, though you don't think it'll be his last, especially since you've so far let it go smoothly for him.

You pause. This will give him the confidence to do it again some time, with someone else. Someone who isn't trying as hard as you to keep their impulses in check. Someone who doesn't have any urges at all, acting only on adrenaline and principles. 

You've always believed you weren't made out of the same things others were, and that's always proved true in the most unflattering ways. When you were followed home eight years ago and instead of freezing in fear, your body fought back until the skin barely clung to your stalker's face. When your first boss out of high school cornered you next to a dumpster to ask for a favor in return for the loan he'd given you, one that you'd already paid back, and he found himself short a couple of inches— terrible for him, because that was pretty much all he'd had. 

When Mark Davidson, a name you'd never forget, tricked your grandmother into signing away her house, and then his own turned to embers just two days later. It doesn't take you long to make a decision. It didn't take Mark very long to figure out the culprit behind his real estate mishap either, but only one of you walked away from the old quarry in that faded industrial town. 

There is, you realize, a choice being presented here. None of the other instances felt this ambiguous; either you fought, or you went along with an injustice and suffered for it. Plenty of people fight back out of a desire to protect themselves and their property, and plenty more do the exact opposite out of a desire to keep their lives. You aren't sure where you fit in this particular situation. The past has taught you time and again that you're part of the people who fight, but that has only ever resulted in a trail of smoke and no place to call home, because while fighting is one thing, not knowing when to stop is another.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?! I said move it over. ”

You didn’t have to do what you did. You could’ve stopped hitting when your stalker fell limp. You could’ve quit your job. Taken Mark to court instead of resorting to arson. Instead, you went with your instincts. You’re staring down the barrel again.

People catch on quickly in small towns, and having a reputation in the way that you used to is only good for warding off trouble. The bad people don't want to get close. But, neither do the nice ones. 

This is a nice town. Lively, warm. The people are bearable— even good, on occasion. Thoughts of your elderly neighbor are quick to surface, and the knowledge that Hazel expects you back home weighs heavily in favor of doing the very thing you're not used to doing. She'd be awfully disappointed if Sunday breakfast was canceled because you decided to give in to your worst impulses and fight like a rabid dog in the face of whatever provoked you. 

The man thrusts the gun even closer to your face with a slight tremor, a show of impatience. 

This is a good place to be. You never went back to industrial Auckney, and you don't want a repeat experience to follow you here like it followed you throughout the previous three towns where you tried to build a life. You don't want to have to leave. You don't want to make Hazel sad. So, you choose to let him go. You let it go. 

And just like that, you hand it over. There's no magical moment, no switch that flips. Making a decision that goes against your every instinct is a learning experience. You're not sure how suited you are to this new path. 

From there, things are quick to end. Once he's got a hold of the money, he backs out of the modest premises all wild-eyed, looking like he expects the cops to pull up at any moment. He's watched too much TV. Nobody even called them. A moment later, he takes off running down the street, green jacket like a neon sign against the stretch of asphalt. 

Breathe.  

Your rigid fingers unglue themselves from the counter's laminate surface and you finally turn your back, the gesture bordering on unnatural. As you do, your gaze settles on Eliza first. A nineteen year old girl with a frame that could be blown away by the wind is looking right through you, her fingers moving erratically against the blacked out touch screen of her phone. 

Five small steps bring you to her. You try to steady her shaking form while removing the phone from her hands. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's over, he's gone," you reassure her, but her breathing has picked up too quickly to go back down with just a few kind words. 

"Need to— I need to call the police. I—" 

Your hands find her shoulders as you hold eye contact and try to soothe her to the best of your ability. 

"You don't need to do anything other than breathe. I'll handle this. If you want to call someone, call a friend to come pick you up and drive you home. Ramón, you too. Take a few days off." 

The college junior throws you the strangest look you've seen in a while, but he too is shaken enough that he doesn't have the energy or the will to protest. 

"Come on. Go sit down for a bit. Both of you," you tell them, reaching under the counter for a bottle of water that you hand Ramón, silently gesturing towards the back room. A different environment would be good for wracked nerves. 

The two make their way towards the kitchen, and your eyes soften at the way Eliza has leaned into Ramón's embrace, quiet sniffles soon cut off by the stainless steel door. You aren't breathing quite right yourself, but you can live with it until things are settled. You can. You have to, because you aren't leaving this town. Not over some prick with shaky hands and horrible judgment. 

"Ma'am?" 

Instinct surges, and this time you can't force it back down. Fingers drawn to the Kimber's grip at your back, the movement feels almost liberating when you turn on your heel and lock target onto what startled you. Not that you'd ever admit it. You can't believe you didn't hear him coming until he was right there, staring at you with narrowed eyes. The dark-haired man in the back. Your only other witness. 

His hands go up in the universal gesture of surrender — or at least no harm intended — but it's too late. You've pulled a gun on a customer, and despite the fact that you kept your finger off the trigger, the damage is done. Lowering the weapon feels like a personal failure. You should've done this to the right person, less than three minutes ago. The man who's now in front of you has nothing to do with your misguided choice. 

But, he isn't leaving. Despite what you just did, he's looking at you in a way you can't decipher. Maybe he's one of those people who are hard to read, or easy to misread . Is it concern, or something else? On second thought, maybe you don't really care, unless he is a local and you've just tipped your hand in the long run. He certainly doesn’t look like the type of person to settle down in a place like this. If he’s just passing through, you can live with putting a gun in his face, as long as no one else saw you do it. 

"You alright?" 

The question surprises you, as does the way he asks it — genuinely enough, but the look he's pairing it with makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. He's watching too closely. There's too much knowledge behind his eyes, and something within you stirs uncomfortably. You don't even try for innocent. Instead, you put the .45 back where it came from and sigh, looking as dejected as possible. It isn't hard to do. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I'm a little jumpy after… all that." 

The man takes in your words quietly, a single nod his only response. 

"Hell of a quick draw, that." 

You blink in surprise. Answering the remark is tricky. Is it praise, or judgment? Both? What do you say to either? You can't let too much time pass before you answer, as that would be an answer in itself. You settle on hiding the truth in plain sight. 

"Probably wondering why I didn't do that earlier, huh?" you ask, a nervous huff coloring your words. You lean on the counter separating you from the man, painting yourself a version of fragile that you hope translates well to his watchful eyes. But, to your dismay, he shakes his head, scanning you even more closely than before. 

"Nah. You had kids in here. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for. You did the right thing." 

It's not what you want to hear. It's also not something you think he's entitled to say, as though he's some kind of authority figure. What makes him so sure this was the right thing to do? You don't think it was. The more time elapses between now and the robbery, the more regret pools in your chest. You're having a hard time with the follow-through part of your decision to let it go, and he is most definitely not helping. 

The vexation makes your jaw tighten and the corner of your mouth turn down just so, and the all-knowing eyes studying you take notice. The words spill out before your brain can catch the mistake. 

"I don't see a badge on you, mister." 

It only takes him a second to pick up on the scorn in your remark, but to your great annoyance, he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, the smirk rising to the surface suggests sardonic amusement. It also paints his face with the kind of insufferable attractiveness you’ve always been agitated by. 

"Should be glad about that. A cop probably would've done something stupid. He'd have gotten someone shot, tryna be a hero." He speaks words you can't help but feel are directed more at you than a theoretical police officer. Yet again, you don't bite your tongue, speaking with the same stiffness in your jaw. 

"Maybe. Or maybe he'd have just shot him down before the guy could pull the safety back on his own gun." 

"So why didn't you?" he counters immediately, the low timbre of his voice almost making his words vibrate through you. 

You breathe in sharply through your nose. The challenge in his tone is more curiosity than genuine provocation, but it still doesn't sit well alongside your growing frustration. Another veiled truth finds its way past your lips as you hold his hardened gaze. 

"Like you said. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for." 

He considers your answer for a moment or two, and then it's as if something hidden from view pulls his features into a different scene. A softer look takes hold, and on a man of his size and projected disposition, it looks almost out of place. Almost. You're not sure if the sudden change means he knows you weren't talking about yourself. 

He shuffles on his feet imperceptibly — not a mark of discomfort so much as it is, you suspect, restlessness. He clears his throat once, and then his eyes are no longer on you. 

"You uh, gonna call the cops any time soon?"

At his question, your gaze follows his a few inches to the right, where Eliza's phone rests atop the counter. It's where you placed it intentionally, so that she'd forget about what she wanted to do. And from the way he asked, you wonder if he's onto you about that.

"I'll file a report later. No need for them to show up. Not like they're gonna catch him," you say dismissively, finally leaning away from the counter and straightening your posture. You put some distance between you and him by taking one step back, wordlessly signaling that you’re done talking and hoping he's astute enough to pick up on body language cues. The slightest pursing of his lips tells you he is. Conversation over. 

He lingers only one more moment before he offers a final nod in your direction, turning in a distinctly controlled way that reeks of military habit and walking off. Only, he stops just short of reaching the door, and his hesitation makes the tension in your jaw return. He doesn't fully look back at you as he speaks. 

"It'll give those kids peace of mind. You should call 'em." 

You hold back a scoff. 

"Are you familiar with the cops in this town?" you drawl, a twinge of sarcasm flowing off your tongue. 

"No, ma'am. Can't say I am." 

The half-smirk you can still glimpse pulling at his lips beckons you to wipe it off, but you manage to hold back. He's almost out the door, anyway. 

"Well, for the record… We'd be safer with a labrador for defense. At least it's got teeth."

"That right?" he grins as if you've tickled his funny bone. He doesn't seem to have all that stellar of an opinion about the police either, if his jab about the theoretical cop is anything to go by. He's still not looking at you, and you don't understand what the hell he's stalling for. Typically, anyone witnessing what he did a little while ago would be out the door the minute it was over. And yet, here he stands, after you pointed a gun at him. Still.

"Yeah, that's right," you confirm, hoping this is finally the end of the exchange. 

It sure seems that way for a short moment of blessed silence.

"Is that why you picked a Warrior?"

His eyes finally veer towards you, smile completely gone. The muscles in your back are suddenly taut once more, and your lungs fill with air they greedily keep for a few seconds longer than they ought to. You don't know what to say. You're not sure why he's bringing up the model of your firearm, like he isn't even bothered that you shoved it in his face earlier. Maybe he's not. Maybe he's a weirdo. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself he doesn't know exactly what you're thinking, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

A scowl fights for control of your features as your hands twitch by your sides. You're still high on anger and guilt and growing resentment for not doing what you were itching to do earlier. Right next to those feelings, the desire to preserve the image it's taken you four years to build is putting up its own fight, albeit much less valiantly. You just want to be alone with your thoughts. Just a moment where you don't have to pretend. You don't know how long you have before your employees return from the kitchen.

"I don't follow," is what you say instead of telling him to get the hell out already.

It's not the right thing to say, because he fixes you with an unimpressed look and takes a couple of steps back inside. You've never had your bullshit called this efficiently, let alone by someone who doesn't know you.

"They didn't name it that 'cause it's meant for defense . And that ain't no standard issue you got there. I'm just— Look,"

You can't resist the urge to make a fist when he closes the distance again, ending up right back where he started. The only thing separating you once more is the service counter, but with the way he's staring you down, it might as well not exist. He looks away briefly, like he isn't sure he's going to say whatever words are already forming on his lips.

"It's none of my business. I get that. But I know that look in your eye, 'cause I've seen it a hundred times before. So I'm just gonna lay it out, alright?" he says, not asking or waiting for permission. "You're gonna go home tonight, and you're gonna toss and turn and not sleep 'til dawn thinkin' about what happened here. And you're gonna want to even the scales, or whatever bullshit you're telling yourself right now. But I'm telling you not to. Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in."

The gruff voice, steady and so determined it infiltrates some deep part of your mind, softens on the very end of the sentence that you have no doubt will be the thing you'll actually think about tonight.

It follows you everywhere.

You should've told him to fuck off ten minutes ago. If you had, you wouldn't be standing here, trembling in anger. Or, at least, not this type of anger. The air you forcibly breathe out does not ease the tension.

Whatever desire to hold back that was present before is overpowered in its entirety by one single element. One thing that could easily define your life up until this point, and probably in perpetuity: not knowing when to back the fuck down. If he wants to have a go, well, who are you to deny him?

"Getting awfully personal there for someone whose name I don't even know. Sure you're not projecting a tiny bit?" you incise, a pitying pout meant to yank his chain blooming on your lips.

"Is that why your finger's twitching?" he shoots back, gaze locked on to the left hand resting by your side, except for the consistent movement of one particular finger. You abruptly stop, but it's hard for knowing eyes to mistake a trigger itch for anything else.

He knows that you know that he knows what you're thinking.

"Look, mister," you begin, absent a polite tone. "Whatever you think I am or am not going to do, you're right: it is none of your business. But seeing as it's so important to you, let me give you some peace of mind ." Throwing his words back at him makes you feel better, like you're slowly gaining an upper hand in whatever battle this nonsensical exchange is.

Pausing, you lean a little closer to him unnecessarily, an air of defiance permeating the space between you. You're sure it's both him and you contributing to it. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly right before you open your mouth again.

The distinct squeak of the back door swinging open halts the flow of words before it even begins, and Eliza soon enters your peripheral vision. For one short moment, the interruption riles you up, but you realize that this is the best way to ensure he fucks off once and for all. Just focus on someone else. Anyone else. You're happy to avoid that unnerving stare for the rest of your life.

Your stand-off finally ends when the young woman reaches your side, and you break your gaze away from the man's in order to give Eliza your attention, as well as to clearly send the message he's been having trouble getting. You aren't interested in his lecture, or the way you can still feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds after you've looked away.

It's only as you talk to Eliza about having her mother pick her up that you finally hear the man's quiet sigh of defeat, though it sounds more frustrated than upset to your ears. Good.

Then, just when you think he's given up, a hand slaps against the counter with a crinkling sound, the familiarity of it leaving no room for interpretation. You're about to throw him a look and sass him about having already paid for his meal, but before you can, he's already started walking off.

Your lips purse as you watch him exit the building, gait once again reminiscent of military custom. It's self-assured yet stiff, and you're pretty convinced at this point that he must've served. Whatever. Some rando with a chip on his shoulder has no business getting a rise out of—

As you look back at Eliza, a cursory glance to the bills he laid down has your muscles tensing again, and you resist the urge to go out after him. It's not the four hundred-dollar notes that piss you off. How he knew the exact amount handed over in the robbery wasn't much of a surprise to you, what with how keenly he’d watched everything unfold.

It's the two singles laid out on top of the pile that really get under your skin, a simple message he went out of his way to send.

Couple bucks ain't worth dying for.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: I'm in my Frank Castle era so strap in folks. I love soft!Frank but we're going to be getting a lot of asshole!Frank in this one, which I argue has the potential to be even more delicious. We'll have fluff, smut and all the goodness of Frank and Reader antagonizing each other while being mad about each other. Chapter 2 is ready to post for Friday!

[frvnkcastles]

BRING ME HOME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank comes home after a long night and finds you in bed with a Punisher shirt on.

Warnings: Nothing really, some mentions of insomnia but mostly just fluff!!

Word count: 1.5k

Author’s note: Ya girl sleeps with a Punisher shirt and that’s literally how this came to be.

Frank was exhausted. Not that it was anything new — it was his default setting almost, yet he always kept going. All the way back to your shared front door, his eyes nearly as heavy as his boots while fumbled with the keys to let himself in. He appreciated your safety measures, but at times like these when the moon was already shining bright on the foggy sky and he wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed, getting through the lock could be a bitch. He never complained though, because every time, he wound up right there in the warmth of your apartment with a satisfied sigh slipping into the darkness and his vest unstrapping from his shoulders.

He followed the same routines every time — taking off his boots early on to avoid dragging in mud, freeing himself of his leather jacket and Kevlar before quietly wandering to the bedroom doorway; not yet stepping in, but making sure you were there. Most of the time, you were unable to sleep in the big bed that tended to feel so empty without him, but for once, you were dozed off, the sight further motivating him to get a move on. Before allowing himself the victory of crawling in next to you, he always meticulously took care of any blood, bruises, gashes, bullet wounds or otherwise painful soon-to-be scars he had earned over the night while you were none the wiser. At least, not until the next day when you'd take it all in and catch up on however much he wanted to share.

On those nights where sleep was a stranger, you sat with him. Helped the best you could, but between your shaky hands and his own, you were better suited as the emotional support. It had been like that especially early on in the relationship — you were sick with worry and sleep avoided you like the plague, leaving you no choice but to linger around the apartment like you didn’t belong there until Frank's keys jingled in the lock again. It wasn’t that you ever really stopped worrying, but somewhere along the way, you just accepted there was nothing you could do about it.

Frank insisted on you sleeping, too, although he couldn’t deny some of your fondest memories had been created sitting in the kitchen with him stitching himself up and you wiping blood off his face, or helping him get out of his mangled shirt in the bathroom. It was far from romantic, but it was how your relationship had been built and neither of you would have changed it for anything else.

Tonight was surprising in the sense that you were already huddled up in the blankets and pillows, and the lack of injuries Frank had come with was a welcome change of pace. That meant, as soon as he had shed his clothes and washed his hands from all the unholiness they had come across before allowing them to touch your skin, he could make his way to his side of the bed.

Acknowledging that always made his heart leap. His side of the bed.

The mattress dipped under his tall frame but it wasn’t until his hand smoothed over your waist and his lips came in touch with your shoulder that you stirred awake. It had hardly been his intention to disrupt your sleep, but when you rolled over to him with half-open eyes and a soft hum, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.

”You okay?” you muttered groggily, barely awake but enough in your right mind to ensure your darling’s well-being. Okay was a flexible concept for him nowadays, but with you in his arms, it was hard not to feel like it, at least.

”Am now”, he whispered, husky voice sending a shiver down your spine, hot breath almost lulling you back to sleep as he leaned down to kiss your temple. His arm tightened around your waist and you could feel his muscles against you as you tilted your head into him, cuddling as close as you could get.

It was that movement that allowed Frank to catch sight of your shirt, his drowsy eyes fluttering wide open when a familiar skull stared back at him. It wasn’t his shirt, it was too snug on you to be, but there it was. The symbol that the public had come to associate with him — the symbol he had left by the front door before coming home to you, and for a moment, he simply stared in disbelief, unsure what to feel.

But, eventually, a hint of amusement sank in. ”What’re you wearin’?” he questioned lowly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he brushed a hand across the soft material of the T-shirt. His words earned a weak snort from you, even as your eyes stayed closed, though you couldn’t stop your mouth from jumping at the question.

”If you want to initiate something right now, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that to get me on board”, you retorted matter-of-factly, sarcasm still quite intact despite the ungodly hours.

Chuckling, Frank dropped his head against yours for a second. ”Temptin’ as that is... it was a real question”, he corrected, fingertips trailing down your stomach to where the printed skull rested. You weren’t sure if the heat creeping up to your cheeks was caused by the gentle but intimate touches awakening you more by the second, or the shirt you had almost forgotten about.

Well, that wasn’t true. It had become your substitute for Frank when he was away, a reminder of him, but it had slipped your mind that he was yet to see it.

”Oh”, you breathed out, a shy smile touching your lips as you continued to rest against his chest. ”I saw it at one of those stands on the street. A whole bunch of merchandise and I... thought it would keep me company while you’re out there. Kind of like you’re still with me even when you’re physically not”, you rambled, making Frank’s heart swell in his chest as he listened to your tired explanation attentively. ”Is that okay?” you added quietly, unsure if the skull was something he wanted you to actively carry with you.

He thought about it for a second, too. It wasn’t like it was a particularly happy, adorable sign to stamp on one’s chest. There had been countless men whose last view of the world had been that very image. And yet, when he considered your words, he wound up smiling again.

”Yeah”, he confirmed and resumed his mindless caressing of your skin. ”Yeah. I’preciate you thinkin’ of me. But you got the real thing now, sweetheart”, he continued before letting his lips collide with your forehead, caring and gentle, unlike he had been for the past several hours. With you, he got to turn all that off and you were both beyond glad for it.

Nevertheless, you knew The Punisher was who he was. There was no dating Frank Castle without accepting that side of him, and so, you finally opened your eyes once more only to find him looking right back at you. You didn’t even flinch under his piercing stare, but rather, broke into a soft smile and reached for his cheek with your hand, letting your thumb sweep across the skin before you sighed.

”You never get any thanks for what you do. But there are so many lives you’ve saved. So many nightmares you’ve ended, even if it meant taking on more of your own”, you began, not really sure where you were going, but the urge to praise him was far too great for you to resist. ”It may not be the typical way, but you help people. And I’m grateful for you. I don’t know what this city or I would do without you.” It was true, too. He was painted as a criminal, and while that was undoubtedly true, he was far from evil — and as far as you were concerned, you were going to appreciate him on behalf of all those people he had brought peace and safety to.

He spent so much time trying to rid the world of all sorts of criminals, and he always got chalked down to one of them. To you, there was nothing more curious than reading up on the news about what The Punisher had done the previous night only to peek into your bedroom and find this scary, big man snoring against your pillow.

”Thank you”, he rasped against your ear, genuine and sincere gratitude in his own voice. Not only for what you had said just now, but all of it, and even in your half-asleep state, you figured as much.

With a heavy sigh, Frank collapsed onto his back, and you followed right behind until you were curled up against his chest. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and the duvet was pulled all the way up to your ears, enclosing the two of you in a warm, lulling comfort.

You certainly made him feel appreciated. And moments like these, the same routine every night... 100% worth the whole day’s wait.