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amhrosina · 1 year ago

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Be My Baby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.

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

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

“Hang on. I brought something for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you stayed.” You finished for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 9 months ago

Note

ee congrats. What about a blurb or headcanons, whichever u want i suppose, of fake dating with Frank Castle having to infiltrate something or another? ^_^

Faking It.

frank castle x female reader

warnings - cursing. allusions to sex.

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

He’s got his hand on your ass.

Sure, the two of you are playing a couple, undercover in a Mr & Mrs Smith style mission. But surely there’s a thousand other places he could put his hand.

You look at him with a scowl on your face and he winks, all cheeky and boyish. Heat crawls its way up your skin, and you beg yourself to calm down. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.

When you enter the ballroom of the gala, it’s packed with people. Frank winds a hand around the back of your neck, steering you in the right direction. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

You’re laughing and playing fake niceties to an old couple at the bar. They’re telling you how beautifully in love you look, and all you can do is rest your head on Frank’s shoulder and sigh wistfully as they coo. He pulls you into him with a hand on your ass, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. He knows he’s riling you up. That’s why he’s doing it.

It’s becoming a game, now. Who can wind the other person up more.

Frank is sat on a fancy leather couch, sweet talking a middle aged woman in a long purple dress. You approach, and take the spot right on his lap, wiggling your hips to get comfortable. He hisses in your ear, fake smile still on his face, and the satisfaction you feel is unparalleled.

You’re out in the hallway coming up with a plan when two men walk past, eyeing you suspiciously. You do what any logical woman would do - smash your lips to Franks and hope he doesn’t question it. He kisses you back with much more passion than necessary, one hand around your neck and the other one on your stomach, pushing you backwards into the wall. You bite his lip as hard as you can and he groans, all deep and pretty, and you’re starting to think this plan has backfired massively.

“Damn, girl.”

“Had to think on my feet.”

“Don’t think your feet were the body part you were thinkin’ with.”

You punch his arm as hard as you can, laughing when he grabs it in pain.

“Let’s get that fucking info and get out of here. I’m sick of everyone telling me how handsome my husband is.”

“He is though, isn’t he?” he teases as he grabs your hand, walking back into the crowds of people unaware of your scheme.

Your fingers stay intertwined for the rest of the evening. He squeezes every now and again, once or twice, and you figure out the code pretty quickly. It’s a silent communication, and it works. In no time, you’ve got what you needed, slipping out of the front door and down the huge winding driveway.

You snatch your hand away, and smack his ass as hard as you physically can.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“Revenge. You grabbed my ass way more than necessary tonight.”

He laughs, and you hate the way it makes you smile.

“Good kiss, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a good kisser. Even if you did draw blood.”

“I’m about to draw a lot fuckin’ more if you don’t shut up, Frank.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Might suggest we play a couple every time we go undercover. This is kinda fun.”

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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months ago

Text

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all started when David scolded him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

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

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

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

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

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

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

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

What had he gotten himself into?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

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

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

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

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

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

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

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

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

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

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

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

“I hope you made it home safe–”

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

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

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

“I'll always keep you safe–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading!!

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

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frvnkcastles · 7 months ago

Text

Masterlist

Updated on September 3rd, 2024.

Frank Castle

Honey, Don't You Leave

Burn a Little Brighter Tonight

The Antidote to Everything

The Way I Held Your Hand

The World of You And I

You're the Only Place That Feels Like Home

You Put My Head In Such a Flurry

The Warmth of Your Arms

The Best Worst Thing

Our Vintage Misery

Your Sweet Haven

Trust I Seek And I Find in You

I Can See a Love Restrained

My Truest Feeling Yet

Burn All the Mercy Out of Me

The Scars From Tomorrow

I'll Keep You Like an Oath

Find My Peace of Mind

Breathe Me Back to Life

I'll Turn My Love Down

Stuck in the Sunshine Riptide

My Old Aches

Empty Your Sadness

Half-Doomed & Semi-Sweet

'Til the Earth Starts to Crumble

Like Heaven Above

A Man With a Black Heart of Gold

Take My Hand, You'll Be Fine

Trade the Pain

A Handshake With Death

Heaven Is Wherever You Are

Follow Me Down

Fill the Void

Feel the Rush

The Beast Inside of Me

Say You'll Stay

I Would Do It Again

Set My World On Fire

Will You Love Me Forever

Want You So Bad

Will You Still Love Who I Am

With My Tunnel Vision

Scar-Crossed Lovers

Only Hope For Me

The Isle of Distant Dreams

Always Be This Way

Enough For Me

Your Head's Only Medicine

Sirens In My Head

Disappearing Years

Take Me With You

You're Good to Me

Poison From the Same Vine

All of Our Sins

Keep Our Love Alive

There's No Remedy

Watch the Days Pass

Never Be Alone Again

One More Taste

Hold Tight For Tomorrow

For the Night

Waiting for the Light

Sick and Tired

In a Lonely Loop

Hard Pill to Swallow

My Mind Rings

Bring Me Home

Tenderest of Care

Melody of Tears

Unimaginable Things

Trapped in Yesterday

Wretched & Joyful

Hold Me Tight

You Can Let it Go

Your Wound But My Sutures

Together As One

I Will Try to Hold You

Something to Dream About

Other Jon Characters

Sam Rossi - Every Night I Burn

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfiction

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chvoswxtch · 10 months ago

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what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍

oh my darling sweet nonnie

I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it

being married to frank castle

i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind

he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted

you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint

your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another

you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*

frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky

I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in

he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax

he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day

anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart

he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can

he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home

he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort

frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart

he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face

to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you

bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes

#frank castle #frank castle request #frank castle headcanon #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher request #the punisher headcannon

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zomtart · 26 days ago

Text

Day Off (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

this is inspired by the lovely Tuna Team and also because I realized I’ve never seen a fic of reader taking care of sick Frank. No established relationship in this one but LOOOOOTS of tension they’re just both too stupid to realize it :D

Content Warnings: p*king (not too descriptive), brief mention of injuries, veeeeery sick Frank, reader who matches Frank’s stubbornness <3

Word Count: 1.3k

It was your day off, and you were making the most of it. You slept in until 10am, cooked your favorite breakfast, wore your softest pajamas, and grabbed your comfort book. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The world was at ease.

…for about twenty minutes.

You were just about to brew your second cup of mocha when you heard the faint sound of groaning. Halting your reach for your coffee mug, the edges of your lips started to turn down as the noise continued. It seemed far away and muted. It seemed like it was…coming from next door.

You stared at the wall for a second before shaking your head. No. No! It was your day off. Frank had your number. He’d call you if he’d need you…right?

When has that ridiculous man ever asked for help?

But he only ever did his…job in the dark. And you had heard him come home last night, even checked out the door to ensure no trail of blood followed him. Surely he hadn’t gone out again. Surely he was fine.

A loud crash erupted from the wall, so hard you could almost feel it shake in the floorboards.

Goddamnit.

You ran to the door immediately, snatching Frank’s spare key and not bothering with shoes. Stupid, stupid man. Couldn’t he stay out of trouble for one day? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with him, but you had to admit you’d much prefer spending time with him when it wasn’t stitching his wounds up.

The moment you stepped through the door you were calling out his name, looking for signs of a break-in or injury. There wasn’t any blood or weapons, but his kitchen table vase lay shattered on the floor. The sight made your stomach turn, along with the fact that he hadn’t seemed to notice you had come inside. Frank was nothing if not alert.

“Frank? Frank!” You swore under your breath, wishing you had brought your taser. “If you’re--if you’re fucking with me right now I swear to god…”

There was another groan from down the hallway and without thinking you ran down to the end of the hall and pushed open the bathroom door.

“Frank—“

You immediately turned away at the sight of Frank kneeling over the toilet, a hand pressed over your mouth as you smelled puke. As a nurse, you unfortunately dealt with this a lot, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t gross.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Frank sounded mad, and you couldn’t quite blame him. However, you weren’t about to let your own anger go so easily.

“I thought you were fucking dying! God, did you hook a boombox up to your intestines?”

“Leave,” he mumbled around a groan that lacked any sort of strength, and not just because his throat was hoarse. He sounded exhausted. More exhausted than you’ve ever heard him, including when he had bullet holes in his torso. He was clearly in no state to be alone.

You blinked. “You do know there’s a broken vase on your kitchen floor right?”

He breathed your name, exhaling roughly through his nose. He closed the toilet and collapsed against it, letting his head hang backward.

“I’m fine. You see I’m not dying, yeah? Now go.”

“Well you’re not far from it.” you crossed your arms. His grouchy mood would likely have turned most people away, but you knew him. Christ, you could see how much pain he was in. Sweat coated his temples, his face pale, his nose red. You knew he needed help, and a little arguing from him wasn’t going to scare you off. “Frank, you’re not fine. I don’t even think you can walk back to your bed. I’m not leaving you. Not like this.”

“I can take care of myself,” he grumbles, trying to stand up. Keyword: trying. He immediately stumbled, and you were right there to catch him.

You grunted as his weight fell into yours, the two of you working to get him back upright.

“Jesus—fucking—yeah. Yep, you can totally take care of yourself. Can totally stand on your own.” you shook your head, grabbing one of his arms and slinging it over your shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s just get you to bed, okay?”

He mumbled something under his breath as he began to walk out of the bathroom with your support.

“That better have been a thank you.”

Once you got him into bed, with heavy groans from the both of you, you stared at him with your hands on your hips.

“Alright. I’m gonna…well. Do you have food in this house that I can make into soup? Or just tubs of spam?”

He pressed a pillow over his head, and that’s when you realized how badly he was sweating. And shaking. You swore under your breath and knelt down at this side, gently removing the pillow from his face and placing a hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up.” you murmured. “Where do you keep the towels?”

“No.” he responded immediately, flinching away from your touch. “I’m not getting you sick. It’s your day off, for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re not going to g--how did you know that?”

“You told me,” he said nonchalantly, swallowing around a sore throat with a wince.

You blinked, recalling that you mentioned how you finally got a day off…but you could have sworn you told him that a week ago. Did he really remember that?

“I’m not going to sit here and give you whatever the hell I have.” he said roughly. “Just leave.”

“Did you hear me the first time?” you placed your hands on your hips. “I said no. You’re in no condition to be by yourself. I’m a nurse. I know when someone needs help. If I have to force you to accept that help, then so be it. Where do you keep your towels?”

There was a long bout of silence where you both stared at each other, the tension of your conjoined stubbornness almost tangible in the air. When he realized you weren’t going to give in, almost at the same time you realized he was finally too tired to fight you back on this, he sighed loudly.

“Bathroom. Third drawer to the left.”

You huffed and started walking past him. “Thank you. Was that so difficult?”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Another weird way of saying thank you…” you trailed off as you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with lukewarm water.

“You never listen to anything I…say…” Frank’s arguing ceased as you pressed the washcloth to his forehead, and he just about melted in your hands. “Fuck…”

“Feels nice, huh?” you smiled a little, feeling that familiar warmth you always got when you got to take care of people. Or Frank, specifically. You weren’t sure when that feeling had tailored to him exclusively.

“Yeah, yeah…” his eyes drooped shut and he leaned against the towel, the edge of his cheek sinking into your palm. With your other hand, you brushed some of his sweaty hair away from his forehead. He hummed lowly, shamelessly reaching for your hand and pressing it back to his face. Your eyebrows shot up at the show of affection, a thing he rarely gave out.

It must be the fever.

“I’m gonna make you some soup, okay?”

“No,” he groaned. “Head hurts. Just…just stay here. Need the towel.”

“You also need to eat.”

“Will you just listen to me?”

You rolled your eyes, using your index finger to tuck some hair behind his ear. “For a few more minutes.”

In the end, it didn’t matter. He fell asleep within moments.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x oc #frank castle x female reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #marvel

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tempobaekh · 11 days ago

Text

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

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joybabyjune · 9 months ago

Text

Jealousy

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader (Matt Murdock has a tiny role too)

Summery: You’ve been casually sleeping with Frank for a while now, but you decide you need something more stable and go on a date with Matt (who you don’t know is Daredevil). Frank shows up on your date to show you who you belong to (maybe in a public bathroom 🙊) and to show Matt to back off 😈.

Warnings: Explicit (minors dni!!!), semi public, unprotected piv, oral (m receiving), little bit of praise kink (good girl, attagirl), little bit of degradation kink (slut, whore), dirty talk, tiny bit of exhibition kink, sort of cuckolding Matt. Think that’s it, feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s note: This idea was stuck in my head for so long and I finally finished it! I hope you guys like it. I would love to hear what you guys think, so reading notes will make me happy! And if you really like it, please reblog so others can enjoy as well. You’ll make my day and it’s completely freeee.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language ✌🏼

Masterlist

You’re sipping on your second beer while you chat and laugh with Matt. After working together for over a year now, he finally asked you out.

Matt is a good guy. He’s everything you should want in a man. Reliable, kind, not a murderer on the run for law enforcement that most people think is dead... You mentally kick yourself for thinking about Frank while on a date with Matt. There’s no future with Frank. You shouldn’t want him. You need someone more stable in your life, someone like Matt.

“You okey?” Matt asks sensing your mind is elsewhere.

“Eh.. Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. You were saying?” You ask, shaking your head as if you’re shaking the thoughts of Frank from your brain.

“That this new client is really gonna make a difference for Nelson and Murdock..” He continues talking, but your mind drifts again while you look around the cozy, dark bar at all the people who decided to get drinks tonight. There’s a few couples, a group of co workers who look like came straight from their office jobs, a few middle aged men at the bar that you feel safe to assume are regulars and then your heart stops for a second as you see him.

Frank Castle is sitting at a table by the window, sipping on a beer. Your eyes widen when you make eye contact and he nods at you as a way of saying hello. You wave back almost nervously. How is he out here in public?

“Want another beer?” Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Eh, y-yeah, thanks.” You say. You’re so glad that your date is blind and didn’t see your interaction with the criminal he told you to watch out for.

What you don’t know is that Matt has already sensed Frank from the moment he entered the bar. He has been noticing his smell on you for the past months as well and it doesn’t sit right with him. It’s part of the reason he asked you out tonight, to get your attention away from the other man.

You grab your phone while Matt orders your drinks and hold it up to Frank to show that you’re gonna text him.

You: What are you doing here? What if anyone recognizes you?

Frank: Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart.

Frank: Saw you go in here with that lawyer guy..

You frown at your phone. Is he.. Jealous? It’s the first time you’re on a date since you started seeing him, but you didn’t think he would mind. It’s all been pretty casual between the two of you.

Frank: Looks like a date..

You look at him and he raises his eyebrows to urge you to answer him.

You: It is.. Matt is a good guy. He would be good for me. Reliable, available..

You look at him and see him scoff as he reads your text. You know it was a low blow. The only reason Frank is away most of the time, is to make the city a saver place.

Frank: Yeah? That what you want? A good Christian boy?

You: Yes.

You lie and Frank knows it. You should want a guy like Matt. Matt you could bring to Thanksgiving dinner with your parents and your mom would, for once, not be disappointed in you.. But you and Frank both know you like the danger and excitement of your little arrangement way too much. For months now, Frank comes to your apartment on a regular basis. You have amazingly intense and kinky sex and have the best conversations while eating takeout afterwards. Sometimes he stays the night and sometimes he leaves while you fall asleep, but either way you’re left alone until the next time he has a night to spare.

Frank: So full of shit.

Matt comes back with your drinks before you can write a reply, but you scowl at Frank.

“Thanks.” You say taking the drink from him and smiling extra brightly, to convince Frank you’re having fun.

“Sorry it took so long, was very busy at the bar.” He says, holding his glass up to toast with you.

“Oh don’t worry about it.” You say as you touch his glass with yours before you glance at your phone.

Frank: Did you let him fuck you?

You: Not yet..

You look over at him and he scoffs again as he reads your message

Frank: Think he can fuck you like I can?

You gasp when you read it and you see Matt frown. “Something wrong?” He asks.

“N-no.. Just need to go to the bathroom for a second.” You say. “Excuse me.”

You don’t go to the bathroom. You walk straight to Frank and sit down next to him. “What the hell, Frank.” You hiss.

He just looks at you. “Tell me.” He finally urges. “Think he’ll fuck you like I can? Cause I don’t think he can.”

“Oh please.” You scoff. “Think very highly of yourself, Castle. I think Matt will manage just fine.”

He laughs dryly. “Just fine, huh.” He says. “Think I do just fine? Well I remember that differently, sweetheart. I remember you begging, crying out my name, barely being able to walk..”

“Stop that, Frank.” You hiss through your teeth. “I’m trying to give this thing with Matt a chance. I need something more serious in my life than just some good dick every once in a while, okey.”

“Oh now I’m just some good dick, hm.” He chuckles through his nose and looks to the side before looking at you again and licking his lips. He places his hand on your bare thigh, right at the edge of your dress. “You look good. Got all dressed up for your little date, huh.”

Your breath hitches at his touch. And your stupid body reacts instantly to his. “Y-yes..” You say.

“Got something pretty underneath it too?” He asks, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

You swallow thickly. “No..” You say honestly.

“No?” He asks in disbelieve, knowing what you have in your collection.

“No, I’m not wearing anything.” You say smiling teasingly. “Felt like doing something risky for my date.” You like to make him jealous. It feels good to know that he wants you and doesn’t want another man to touch you.

He growls a little. “You gonna let him get under this dress tonight?” He asks.

“I might..” You say.

He grips your thigh tightly and leans in so his mouth is at your ear. “Let me remind you first..” He says. “Of what you’ll be missing if you do that.” His lips connect to your neck and he slides the tip of his tongue over your pulse.

“Frank..” You whimper, you brain clouding over. Why does he have to have this effect on you?

“Bathroom.” He rasps. “Now.”

Your eyes widen and you look at Matt. He looks unfazed as he drinks his beer, his back towards you. You know this bathroom. It’s beat down, broken lights and mirrors, graffiti everywhere and it has multiple stalls, so there’s no way you can get away with this without anyone noticing. “I can’t, Frank..” You sigh.

“I said. Now.” He says. You almost moan at his demand and get up. “Attagirl..” He says as you walk toward the bathroom, your feet moving on their own accord.

You can sense him following you closely. He pushes you into the bathroom and slams you with your back against the door to barricade it before crashing his lips on yours.

He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him. Your dress hitches up to your hips and you moan in his mouth as he rolls his hips into your, basically bare, core. “Hmhmm.” He hums and he breaks the kiss. “That’s what you need, huh?”

“Frankie..” You whine a little, but you know he’s right. “But-“

“Shh shh shh.. No buts.” He says and lifts your dress up more so it bundles at your waist. You feel your naked folds against the rough material of his jeans and you moan loudly. He snakes one hand between your bodies and slides his fingers through your soaking slit. “Fuck..” He mutters to himself. “That for me or for lawyer guy out there?”

“Y-you, Frank.. You..” You say, your voice breathy, as he starts rubbing circles on your clit.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He grunts. “Pretending to be a good girl, but you’re just a little slut for me..”

“Frankie..” You moan, sounding desperate, but you know he’s right. “Please..”

“Hm? What’s that?” He rasps against your throat. As he presses on your clit harder.

“Oh fuck..” You pant. “Frank, p-please.. Need more..”

“Oh yeah? That slutty hole needs to be filled?” He asks. “Why don’t I get Murdock to do that for you, huh? ‘M sure he can help you out.”

“N-no!” You gasp and grab onto his shoulders desperately.. “Need you, Frank.. Need your cock.. P-please!”

He growls and mutters something under his breath while unbuttoning his pants. You can barely hear it but it sounds like. “Hear that, Red.” You frown but get pulled out of your thoughts by Frank slamming his cock inside you without warning.

“Oh my.. Fuck!!” You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders. You keep forgetting how big he is.

He growls loudly. “That’s it, take it..” He says as he starts thrusting right away, not giving you any time to get used to the intrusion. “Tight fucking pussy.. So wet for me.”

There’s a knock on the bathroom door that you can barely register. “Taken!” Frank rasps loudly, giving you a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out loudly.

“Y-you’re so bad..” You whine. “T-they can hear us.” You add in a whisper.

“Let them..” He says. “Let them hear what a whore you are for this cock. That you let me steal you away from your date and fuck you in a public bathroom.. ‘S because you belong to me, hmm?”

“Frankie..” You whine.

“Right?” He growls through gritted teeth.

He’s never been this harsh, but you’ve also never been this aroused and you can feel your orgasm building up fast. When you don’t answer him, he pulls out. “Nooo, don’t stop!”

“Say it..” He growls and rubs the head of his cock against your clit.

“Ohhh.. I-I’m yours, Frankie! P-please!” You moan.

“That’s right. Mine.” He growls as he sinks back inside you.

Your eyes roll back in your head and he starts fucking you with deep, hard strokes. “I-I’m gonna cum..” You pant into his shoulder. “Please don’t stop..”

“Good girl, cum on my fucking cock.” He rasps, never losing his rhythm.

You cry out when you explode around him and immediately know that no man can ever top this. You’re addicted to Frank Castle, even with all the hassle that comes with him. “Fuckkkk!”

“That’s it, attagirl.. Can feel you squeezing me..” Frank talks you through it.

“Oh my god..” You pant as you come down from your high.

“Think I’ll send you back to your date with me dripping down your legs, hm, how ‘bout that?”

“Noo! Please don’t!” You chuckle.

“No?” He asks shaking his head with a smirk on his face. “Better get on your knees then.” He adds and he pulls out.

He lets you down and you quickly get on your knees. You don’t care about how dirty the floor is, you need this right now.

His cock, wet from your juices, glistens in the dimmed lighting as he holds it in front of your face. He’s rock hard, the veins are pulsing and his balls look heavy. He’s definitely close.

You ‘open up’ when he tells you to and he slides in as deep as he can until you gag. “That’s it.. Attagirl..” He mutters and he slowly starts thrusting into your welcoming mouth, one of his hands resting comfortably on the back of your head, the other pushing the door closed above you. “Look at me..” He orders and your eyes shoot up to his. “Gonna make sure that if that fucker tries to kiss you, that he knows you belong to another man. Cause this fucking mouth’s mine too, hear me?” He growls, speeding up his thrusts and making you gag again.

You make some sounds to agree with him, not being able to talk. “Fuck.. Gonna give you my cum.. Fill up that pretty mouth..” He groans loudly and his hips stutter while you feel his load land on the back of your tongue.

You gently suck his softening cock to get every last drop before letting him slip out and swallowing the proof.

“Fuck you..” You sigh as you rest your head back against the door.

He chuckles silently. “That good, hm?”

“Shut up..” You smile lazily.

“Still think he can give it to you like that?” He asks as he tucks himself back into his pants.

“No.. Don’t think anyone can, Frank..” You say honestly. “And I hate you for it. You ruined me..”

“Should have warned you for that.” He says smiling down at you smugly. “Gonna get up?”

“‘F you give me a hand.” You say and he helps you get up on your shaking legs.

“Fucking Frank.” You curse as you look in the mirror. Your hair is messy, your makeup messed up and your dress is all wrinkled.

He chuckles. “Go end this date, I’ll be waiting in your room for round two.” He says slapping your ass and leaving you in the bathroom to freshen up.

“Thank you for your patience.” You hear him say to someone on the other side of the door.

Your eyes widen and you pull your dress down just quick enough for two women around your age to walk in.

“‘M s-sorry..” You mutter without looking at them. They don’t say anything, just disappear into the stalls.

You quickly try to salvage what you can and hurry back to your table.

“I-I’m sorry, Matt.” You say sitting down.

“You okey? You were gone for a while.” He asks.

“Ehm.. N-no, I don’t feel so well. Think it’s best if I go home.” You say as you put on your jacket and grab your purse.

“You sure?” He asks, frowning a little, and you get the feeling the question is about more than just you going home.

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Shall I walk with you?”

“No, that’s okey. I’ll eh, I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”

“Alright.” He says looking a little disappointed.

“Bye.” You say, hugging him and hurrying home.

To Frank, once again.

#frank castle x female reader #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #the punisher x you #the punisher smut #the punisher x reader #the punisher #matt murdock #daredevil

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ellephlox · 10 months ago

Text

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.”

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words.

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people?

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense.

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in? Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.”

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave.

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks.

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy.

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case.

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom.

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home.

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows.

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you.

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot.

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short.

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no.

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier.

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing.

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up.

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows.

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger.

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground.

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second.

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed.

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists.

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight.

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood.

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second.

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered.

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered.

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away.

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came.

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall.

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly.

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl.

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive.

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body.

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse.

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry.

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well.

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath.

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.”

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading!

-Elle

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #marvel #daredevil x reader #reader insert #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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to-thelakes · 10 months ago

Text

banged up

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; after being friends with daredevil gets you into a sticky situation, frank takes care of your wounds

warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is very injured but also very stubborn, soft frank, not proof-read, mentions of torture + wounds. some insecurity from reader

notes; okay this one-shot was written ages ago and i just got reminded that i could post it when i got an anon request (which i am going to work on if that anon sees this post ;) ) about the reader not liking swallowing pills. that's a big thing in this fic because I have been taking like 4-5 medication/supplements a day for the past 6+ months and honestly, i hate it. so so does the reader here <3 i hope you enjoy this little fic, i was debating on writing a part 2 that would be a little more angst-focused because frank hates when people he cares about gets hurt but feel free to lmk if y'all would be interested in that <3

part two

“Hey, hey,” A gruff voice pulled you back from unconsciousness. Your eyes slowly blinked open and the first thing you felt was pain. A cry escaped your lips as your hand shot to your side where the pain seemed to be radiating from. But the quick movement only seemed to make you feel worse and you cried out again, “Stop- Stop moving,” The voice repeated. It took you a minute for your eyes to adjust to the gloom and you turned your head to see Frank kneeling on the edge of the bed. There was a frown on his lips.

“It hurts,” You muttered. He sighed and gently took a hold of your bandaged wrist, pulling it down towards your side again.

“I know, sweetheart. You gotta stop moving,” He retorted. Your eyes fell closed again, the pain seemed to be coming from everywhere. Your side is where it hurt the most and as you shifted, the pain rocketted through your system. Eyes squeezed shut and another whimper fell from your lips. Frank sighed, “Sweetheart.” His tone was a warning and you balled your hands into fists by your side which made more pain shoot up.

“What happened?” Your voice was croaky. Your throat was dry and even trying to say a word made your body hurt. Your throat was scratchy, it was so uncomfortable. A ragged breath escaped your lips and you heard Frank’s heavy footsteps moving away from the bed.

“You got banged up pretty bad. Gotta stay there, sweetheart,” He insisted as his footsteps only seemed to get further away. Your eyes opened again and you turned your head to see that he was in the other room of your apartment. You didn’t know what he was doing and you knew that you should have stayed down but you never really listened to him.

With a deep breath, you slowly pushed yourself to sit up. It made your entire body ache and you cried out when the pain bloomed across your side again. But you fought against it to get onto your feet. Frank came rushing back into the room and managed to catch you just as you were about to fall on your ass. You hadn’t expected your ankle to hurt as much as it had when you put pressure on it.

“I told you to keep your ass on the bed,” He snapped. Though there wasn’t as much conviction behind his words as there usually was when it came to Frank. If anything, he seemed concerned that you were hurting yourself.

“What happened,” You repeated your earlier question. Frank sighed and he led you back to the bed so that you could sit down.

“Told ya,” He retorted. You scoffed and then whimpered when your side began to hurt again. Frank gave you a warning look before he disappeared out of the room again so that he could get the glass of water and painkillers he had initially gone out for. The room was silent and it made you pause, you could vaguely remember it now. The torture. The men. You didn’t even know who they were but they wanted to know who Daredevil was. They needed Matt’s identity and they were willing to kill you to get it.

“Where’s Matt?” You croaked out as Frank walked back into your bedroom with a glass of water and pills. You stared at them and then at him. He knew that you hated taking pills. You always bought the liquid form for your own sake. The only reason you had normal pills is because of him and Matt and Karen for when her periods got bad.

“He’s patrolling, making sure you’ll be safe,” Frank explained. You were glaring at the pills that he offered out to you and he sighed. He placed the glass on the table and put the pills next to it, “You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” You rolled your eyes and watched as he walked back to the kitchen. Everything hurt. Your face, your body, your feet, your ankles, your hands. When you lifted your hands up, you could make out the bruises in the gloom and there were ugly marks around your wrists from where you had been tied up.

You shoved your hands under your armpits, hiding them from your sight as you waited for Frank to return but even that movement made you hiss out in pain. After a moment Frank returned, with your usual bottle of painkillers. You always bought the kids stuff because it was the only one that was reliably in liquid form. You knew it was silly but you hated swallowing pills and your periods were too bad to force yourself to swallow them down.

“Thank you,” You mumbled. He nodded and then he got onto his knees in front of you so that he was on your level. He didn’t want to make you feel any worse by looming above you as he spoon-fed you painkillers like he would a baby.

“I patched you up. Red dealt with the rest,” Frank informed as he poured some of the liquid onto a spoon with the precision only a Marine would have. Usually, you spilt the liquid everywhere but he seemed to have practice with it.

“Explains why it hurts so much,” You retorted, practically teasing him. He narrowed his eyes, holding the spoon of painkillers away from you, “Frank,” You whined. He chuckled and then moved the spoon forward so that you could take it into your mouth. You swallowed down the liquid and watched as he poured another spoonful, “How long is it gonna hurt for?” It was a stupid question, you knew that. It was probably going to hurt for weeks, if not months considering the damage that they had done but you wanted him to lie.

“You’ll just have to see, sweetheart. Gonna have to take some time off work with an injury like that,” He said as he held the spoon out to you again. You took it gratefully and then he poured another one just for good measure.

“My boss is gonna kill me,” You mumbled. Frank scoffed and he then held the last spoonful of medicine out to you.

“If he gives ya any trouble, I’ll deal with it.” If it was anyone else, you would have laughed off those words but this was Frank and you knew he meant what he said. A soft sigh escaped your lips once Frank put the spoon onto the bedside table. He then twisted the cap back onto the bottle before he placed it down beside your glass of water.

“How bad is it?” You asked after a beat of silence. Frank was just looking at you, concern etched across his features.

“I’d still call you a pretty lady,” He said. You let out a soft huff and glanced over at the water but Frank passed it before you could hurt yourself doing it. You took the glass gratefully and cautiously took a long sip. It soothed your dry throat and you were so glad to get something to drink. You were sure that you were incredibly dehydrated after all the tears and the blood.

Frank took the glass back from you when you had drained the whole thing and he slowly got to his feet. It seemed he was going to get you another glass and you wanted to go with him. So, once he was in the other room, you pushed yourself to your feet again. It was slow and you made sure to keep the pressure off anywhere that hurt and you were on your feet, comfortably.

Each step was slow and he heard you step into the other room, his head snapping back. He narrowed his eyes, placing the water jug down before he turned to look at you. He shook his head slightly at the fact that you were walking around.

“They could have done worse,” You said before he got the chance to comment, “Can still walk.” There was a small smile on your face, trying to make light of what had happened but it was hard considering how much your body hurt with every movement.

“Don’t tempt them, darling,” He retorted. You made it over to the kitchen counter and he took a hold of your waist, keeping you steady as you took the glass. You downed the water again before placing the glass down and limping over to the fridge. You needed something to eat, your stomach was growling for it but when you looked inside, there were no leftovers. Your roommate - who worked the night shift - must have taken them with her.

“Hungry?” He asked. You nodded and he glanced over your shoulder before he grabbed a few things from the shelves, “I’ll make you something, go lie on the couch.” You let out something akin to a ‘yes’ before you hobbled over to the sofa and lay down. Your head hurt, your body hurt and you were glad that Frank was here.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #reader-insert #banged up

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