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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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atrwriting · 1 year ago

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selfish - frank castle x reader

hey y'all back in action with another porn no plot one shot

all i'm saying is,,, they knew who their target audience was with this (or are we just all mentally ill?)

summary: frank shows you what it means to be a real, selfish man.

informal warnings: frank is the selfish man in this, but I was the selfish woman writing this. couldn't get this out of my head as I started season two of the punisher, and frankly (haha get it -- sorry) after this scene you wouldn't be able to either

as always, the actual warnings: vulnerable frank, #sadboihrs for both the reader and frank, smut, porn no plot, choking, dirty talk, and ROUGH frank

anyway... selfish:

“what’s your type?”

the million dollar question. the one that you had been troubling yourself over for years.

“my type?” you repeated, eyeing the man who asked you. “or my pattern?”

he tilted his head in curiosity. “both.”

you chuckled. “my pattern… well, they’re usually useless. man babies.”

it was his turn to chuckle. “you like taking care of them, yeah?”

you shrugged. “i love taking care of people, but not men that de-age into babies as time goes on. did you know a guy i dated asked me how to boil water once?”

“you’re joking,” he took a swig of his beer, eyeing you. “no way that’s true. made that up.”

“i wish,” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i’m also not making it up that i stayed with him two years after that.”

“sounds like your fault.”

you nodded. “the pattern made me realize what my real type is.”

“what?”

“it’s corny.”

“say it.”

a smirk attempted to appear on your lips, but you pushed it back down. “i don’t like selfless men.”

he let out a laugh in disbelief at that. “you and every other chick.”

you chuckled too. “i heard this an analogy once… if you’re falling over a cliff, would you want your person to save you? or someone else about to fall on another side of the cliff?”

he stopped talking then, listening intently.

you kept going. “obviously, i’d want the other person saved… but in my head, when i’m all alone and there’s no one that has to be saved… sometimes it’s nice to think that someone would be so selfish that they would save me over doing what’s right.”

“you could live with that though?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, a bit of judgement lacing his words.

you shrugged. “never been the person that was saved, so i’m really not sure. it’s not that i want to be saved or anything — that’s super fucking corny. but man, a fucking masculine man, putting you over other things? deciding that in that moment, you’re what matters to him? i spend all my days being selfless, putting myself in danger so other people are saved… and i’m tired.” you took a swig of your drink. “i’m really fucking tired.”

“why don’t you save yourself, then?”

“for the same reason you’re here,” you sighed. “when have we ever been selfish, frank?”

he laughed at that, but almost scoffed. “i don’t do anything i do for anyone but me.”

you swallowed then, clenching your jaw. “so many people have wronged you… but you’ve only done what you’ve done because of how people have wronged those you loved. hate to break it to you… but you’re as selfless as anyone could be.”

he folded his lips underneath his teeth and stared aimlessly off into the distance. there were bags under his dark eyes, and no amount of sleep or beer would ever take them away. the man would never know peace, and your heart broke at that. however, it was nice to know someone was going down the rabbit hole with you.

“i don’t think i’m selfless,” he finally spoke after a bit.

you raised an eyebrow at him, calling his bluff.

“i did the things i did because my family was what was most important to me,” he admitted. “that’s selfish.”

you swished his words around in your mouth a little, and decided he was right. the spin on your words made you nod, agreeing with him. “i see your point.”

“so, what?” he asked. “you want a man that would choose you over innocent people?”

you huffed, standing. “i know you know that i never said that. i’m saying that in the back of my mind, it would be nice, just once, for a selfish man to decide that i’m all he wanted. it would be nice to know that i don’t always have to carry the weight on only my shoulders.”

he didn’t say anything then, staying planted on his seat on the floor. he twisted the bottle in his hands and listened to you.

“if i’m being honest with myself…” you began, swallowing your heavy statement. “i would prefer if they saved the innocents, but only so i could die, as i probably would falling in that situation, with a clear conscience. all i’m saying is… it’s a heavy fucking burden always doing things so i don’t feel guilty.”

you walked away then, not muttering a goodbye. frank didn’t say anything either. you heard him raise the bottle to his lips once more before you shut your bedroom door behind you.

it would be an hour or so before you heard a gentle knock on your door. there was no yelling or screaming outside, so you were grateful to hear there was no imminent danger present. in your tiny pajamas, you answered the door to find none other than frank. he was leaning against a wall in the hallway that led to your door, only a couple feet from you.

he didn’t say anything when you came face to face with him. he just stared at you, placing all of his focus on your confused face. it would be a few moments of silence before he finally stepped closer to you, and placed a calloused hand on your face.

you froze. frank castle never touched you, especially in that way.

“wanna know my type?”

you stared at him and swallowed thickly. your lips parted to whisper, “sure.”

“an escape,” he whispered back. “i know what you meant by always having the dark cloud of duty hanging above your head, ready to kill any moment of peace you happen to get your damned hands on. i’ve done everything i’ve ever done for the people i loved, and i know the only way for me to experience any fuckin’ joy is with another person.”

his dark eyes held your gaze, and you soon grew lost in them and his words. you swiped your tongue across your lips and stepped closer. you could feel frank’s breath on your chin, but you couldn’t breathe. his scent, his stare, and his fucking words were more intoxicating than any alcohol you had before.

“you want an escape, frank?” you softly asked, eyes darting to his lips.

“i do,” he stated, before he lowered his head and kissed you.

his free hand immediately came up to the other side od your face and pressed against your cheek. there, he held you in the palms of his hands as you rested your hands on his thick, muscled chest. his lips were dry and cracked, but you didn’t care. the fire that brewed from his affection was enough to fill any of the cold, dark, and lonely places inside of you and you greedily drank from anything he offered.

“you want someone to want you, darlin’?” he asked in between kisses.

you hummed in agreement, not wanting to break apart your kiss for anything — even words.

“can’t get you out of my head, sweetheart,” he spoke, dipping his tongue into your mouth. “need to feel those long legs around me.”

you whimpered at his words, letting his tongue dance with yours. you could taste the heineken on his tongue and savored every bit. “please, frank… i need to feel you so badly.”

“i’ve got you, darlin’.” he picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around him. the pads of frank’s finger tips dug into your flesh and a warmth spread throughout you. “those fuckin’ legs.”

you would’ve giggled, but you were too consumed with the very touch of frank to even care. you pulled at his shirt and threw it over his head, sad to break the kiss for even a second. you immediately went to his neck and began to nip at the thick skin, causing a growl to rumble in the deepest parts of his rib cage.

“y’drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he grunted. “sweetest fuckin’ kisses.”

“oh, frank…” you moaned against his neck before he threw you onto the bed. you turned over onto your back to face him. he locked eyes with you as he stood over you, muscles naturally flexed as he undid his belt. your mouth watered at the sight of the fucking man before you, taking off his belt for only you. the way his shoulders, pectorals, and arms worked in the dim light of your room… that man would be the death of you. you hissed, “you’re such a tease.”

he smirked at that, throwing the belt somewhere in the distance. “think you’ve just never been with a real man before,” he replied, before engulfing you into another kiss.

frank’s hand dipped into your shorts and immediately went for your slit. your body fucking sang at finally being touched the way you needed to be as you arched your back into frank, his chest pressed against yours. when frank began to run rough circles around your clit, nothing could hold back your moans or him swallowing them whole.

“only took off my belt, and this is how wet you get?” he asked, biting down on your neck. his long, thick middle finger dipped inside of you as his thumb worked at your clit. he tapped against your upper wall and you keened into his touch, whimpering his name. “now i know it’s the men before me. barely doing a fuckin’ thing and i’ve got you like this.”

you nodded pathetically, just wanting him to continue. “it feels so good,” you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. “please, please — don’t stop, frank.”

he leaned over and pressed his chest against yours before his lips found your neck once more. his kisses were wet and sloppy, and there was nothing better than feeling the weight of a strong man above you working at your needy pussy. his rough movements against your sensitive skin were sending you into a frenzy as if nothing mattered in the world besides frank — your world started and ended there. your body felt hot — steaming from everything this man was doing for you with barely any effort. your whimpers and gasps fueled frank’s movements as if he couldn’t get enough of them.

“such a good girl f’me,” he said before he bit down on your neck and kissed the spot. “y’get so worked up, i want to see what it’s like when you fall apart.”

“i’m so close, frank…” your voice was hoarse and full of lust, and you were about to break any moment.

“that’s it, baby, yeah,” he spoke, slipping a second finger inside of you. “cum all over these fingers baby. let me taste you after.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck —!”

your world came crashing down onto you. your strength was no match for frank’s, but with the way your back arched and body curled into him, your chests both rose off the bed. he wrapped a strong arm underneath the curve of your back as you fucking sobbed his name, holding you to him and supporting your weight.

“that’s it, darlin’,” he grunted against your ear. “yeah — that’s it. keep cumming for me, fuck…”

your hands grabbed at his thick biceps and you grew lost in his movements against the most sensitive parts of you that never ceased. your hips were rolling in circles with his fingers and your vision went hazy.

“so beautiful like this f’me,” he groaned. “might be mean and not let you stop.”

“fuck, frank,” you cried, whimpering for him. your body fell limp against his arm, and he lowered your bodies back down to the bed. during your comedown, frank kissed at your neck as his free hand ran up and down your body. his other hand continued to rub against your pussy and it was driving you fucking crazy. “let me ride you — please.”

your voice was full of desperation, and frank smirked down at you. he slipped his fingers out of you and rolled off of you onto the bed. you tugged his pants down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time. you were so greedy, but he didn’t care. he smirked as he watched you pull down your tiny shorts. you straddled him, pressing his chest to yours, as you sank down onto his thick cock.

“my fucking god —“ you gasped, your pussy stretching around him.

frank immediately grabbed your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight. he placed the tips of his fingers in his mouth, and tasted your juices that remained on his skin. there you were, impaled on his cock, hovering over him as you watched the most sensual thing you had ever seen him do. his dark eyes were locked on yours, but your lips parted as you watched him taste you. only a smirk remained on his lips.

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he spoke. “now show me how she rides me.”

he roughly pushed you upwards so you stood up straight. the angle made a whimper leave your lips, as he was now fully inside of you and the deepest anyone has ever been. you planted a limp hand on his stomach, and began to roll your hips against his.

his calloused hands found your hips as he threw his head back against the bed. the tendons in his neck were on full display as he stretched his head back as far as he could. the pleasure he felt was spreading all throughout his body, and he couldn’t help but go taut at the feeling. you watched his mouth fall agape and his eyes close as a moan pushed passed his lips.

the pads of his fingers dug into your hips and pushed you forward and back. even his fingers were strong and had control over you, and you couldn’t help but willingly give everything over to him. your whines filled the room, getting lost in your own pleasure with him. there was nothing like the sight of being thrown into vulnerable pleasure with the man under you, succumbing to your touch.

“fuckin’ god —“ he moaned, raising his head back up to keep his eyes locked on where your bodies connected. “never felt so fuckin’ good.”

his hoarse voice caused you to move faster as you ground your hips against his. his hands were rough and desperate as they pulled you up, down, back and forth — until you didn’t know which way was anything. all you knew were the directions of frank’s hands, and you followed in suit as he dragged you down another road of ecstasy.

“greedy fuckin’ pussy,” he groaned. “never enough for her, huh? needs more, even after what i did?”

“yes, yes,” you whimpered pathetically. “your cock feels so good, frank. so fucking good.”

“yeah, darlin’, that’s it,” he grunted, brown scrunching together. “such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

“fuck, frank — don’t say that,” you cried loudly, biting your lip. “feels too good when you say that — i can’t cum yet.”

he immediately reached for your neck and pulled you down to him. you gasped at his rough touch, but your hips never stopped. he bent his knees so your ass could bounce off of them, giving you more leverage. his cock curled deeper into you, hitting your cervix.

“oh my — god —“ you sobbed so close to his lips.

“nah, baby, that’s not how this works — you’re gonna take everything fuckin’ i give you,” he grunted. “i know y’want to be a good girl f’me, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you were incoherent at this point, ready to tell frank anything he wanted to hear as he bucked his hips into yours. “frank, i’m so close — how —“

“love a needy pussy like this,” he spoke, pulling you closer by the throat for a kiss. “you gonna be good to me? you gonna cum around my cock?”

“fuck, yes —“ you sobbed. “i want you to cum with me, baby, fill me up.”

that set him off. he rolled both of you over before you even knew what was happening. he had you pressed against the bed, hand still around your throat. you grabbed at his arm, loving having the feeling of his strong muscles hold you down. you wrapped your legs around his back as he threw his hips into you. over, and over, he drove himself inside you.

“dirty fuckin’ girl,” he growled, biting down on the skin of where your neck and shoulder met.

that was it. that was how you crumbled a second time for frank that evening.

you fucking wailed his name.

you grabbed at every part of him you could, struggling to hold on for dear life. your body shook with convulsions as your pussy tightened around him, locking his cock in place. nothing could stop his strong hips as they continued to rut into you — riding out your second orgasm of that evening.

you fell back against the bed, fucked out and gasping for air pathetically. frank pressed several kisses to your neck before he stood up on his knees, leaving your weak body below him. you pushed yourself to your elbows with whatever strength you could muster. frank grabbed you by the hips and you watched him slam his hips into yours.

you watched his forehead scrunch as his mouth fell agape. his chin was almost tucked to his neck as his eyes never left where his cock fucked into you.

“use me just like that, baby,” you cried. “i want your cum inside me.”

his strong, trim body went taut as his orgasm hit him, and you watched hungrily as the man before you fell vulnerable to the only pleasure he could allow himself these days. you watched as his conscious mind slipped further and further into the sensation until every ounce of stress and exhaustion left his face. you couldn’t help but bite your lip in pride and satisfaction — knowing that you will never see a more beautiful sight like frank castle using your body to get off.

you fucking loved selfish men.

----

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW EVERYONE GO WATCH THIS SCENE -L xox

#the punisher #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank x reader #frank x you #he can punish me #lol #frank castle smut #frank smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle fit #frank fic #frank imagine #the punisher smut #the punisher fic #the punisher imagine

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privateanxieties · 1 year ago

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sweet like wine

Summary: You realize how much you like it when Frank is vocal during sex.

Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n);

Words: 2.1k (18+ shameless smut, aural kink, fluff, intimacy, explicit consent, mutual masturbation, sexy voicemails, dirty talk, established relationship)

----------------------

The first time took you completely by surprise.

You weren't expecting a man of few words like Frank, quiet and brooding as he was, to become the picture of an enthusiastic lover once the lights went out and you found yourselves taking the next step in your relationship. That's not to say you didn't expect a certain… level of intensity. Frank was not a bland man — simple and direct, maybe, but he brought a particular devotion to everything he did. He didn't mince actions, or words for that matter. But he also didn't use too many of them regardless of the circumstances, so you didn't expect reality to be any different when it came to intimacy with him. You imagined him to be passionate, and you were not wrong. However, in all your fantasies (and there were plenty), he was always quietly focused. Encouraging, but not with words. Filthy, but never this articulate.

You take me so fuckin' well, baby.

That's it, soak my fingers, let me feel it.

Gonna come, sweetheart? Make a mess all over my cock?

It was nice to be wrong. So nice, in fact, that you almost came untouched just from listening to him tell you what he wanted to do to you the first time you made love. The noises that escaped his lips as he barely pressed his hips into yours drove you insane. He wouldn't let you have it until you asked, slowly and languidly grinding himself against you through the satin of your panties, enough to ruin them and fry your brain, but not enough to give you that rush of pleasure you were dying to get from him. He took his time with no issue, like the clock stopped moving the second he molded his lips to yours.

"That feel good?" he mumbled against your neck, biting down in response when you didn't answer right away, too lost in the warmth of his skin and the pretty noises he was making.

"Uh-huh," you moaned, shivering as he licked a path to your collarbones and his beard left a pleasant burn in its wake.

"You want more?" he taunted, placing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Yes, Frank." Then, thinking it not enough, you quietly added a 'please' on the end of a breathy whine as his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You came to learn you didn't have to beg with him, unless he wanted you to — because if you thought you liked it when Frank talked during sex, he was singularly focused on making you utter words that would make a fiend blush. You were resistant at first, partly because the more you'd talk, the less he would, and you couldn't have that. Yet pretty soon you realized that hearing you speak the filth you did to him garnered an interesting and previously unheard noise from your lover.

Frank's only response as you rode his cock and told him how well he filled you was to whine.

In retrospect, you couldn't have known that would be the thing to unlock a noise you didn't think possible, but you certaintly didn't complain when his hand grasped your jaw and his lips mashed to yours, trying desperately to stifle the alluring sound by pressing it into your mouth and making you dizzy with want. That sound worked to push you over the edge just as well as his skilled fingers on your clit. It got you so worked up that sometimes just the memory of it hitting you in the middle of the day was enough to heat up your skin and make you wish you had a recording of it. Which was how the real trouble started, when Frank left on a longer assigment from his contact at the CIA.

Now, you would be fine without him for a couple of weeks. You'd done it before, and you understood the nature of his work and how it'd be woven into your relationship. You knew that when he'd leave, it wouldn't be the same as going on a business trip. There was a strict no-contact rule he enforced, both because he often simply didn't have the means to get in touch and because it was the safest thing to do. He wouldn't put you in any jeopardy because he missed you, and you'd long ago accepted that as fact and respected his decision.

And that was the reason why a voicemail from Frank arriving dead in the middle of those fourteen days away almost provoked a heart attack— twice. First, because you thought something horrible had gone wrong. He was hurt. He was in trouble. Maybe this was all he could do to say goodbye. Your blood pressure couldn't have been any higher as your thumb inched towards the play button on the message, and you thought you could drop to your knees when the first thing to come out of the speakers was a long, drawn-out groan.

This was it. You were going to lose him. He was dying somewhere, alone, and you were never going to see him again.

"God, babygirl…"

You waited with bated breath, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and then the second uptick in your pulse occurred.

"Fuckin' miss you so much. Need to feel that tight pussy squeezin' my cock."

It wasn't hard, given how wound up you already were, for your body to make the switch from horrible adrenaline to an absolutely euphoric rush of pleasure. It happened so quickly that whiplash wasn't far behind, and you gripped the arm of the sofa as you slid down to the floor, unable to stand any longer. Heart beating wildly in your ears, you forced yourself to calm so as not to miss his next words.

"Wish you could see how you got me right now… fuckin' my own hand like a goddamn teenager," he groaned.

You couldn't have helped your reaction if you'd tried. Switching the phone to your other hand with a tell-tale tremor, your dominant one slipped down the front of your leggings and straight into your dampening underwear, fingers moving in tandem with the background noise your ears were hypnotized by. You could hear the motions of Frank's fist going up and down his cock, could make out just how easily his hand moved over himself and feel the phantom taste of him in your mouth. Your own fingers picked up the pace on your pulsating clit, mind trying to remember the sensation of his rougher digits caressing you.

"Gonna come, baby?"

Startled, your tightly closed eyes were pried open to glance at the screen, wondering if you hadn't somehow called him in your frenzy. But no. The voice note kept playing, and the pretty groans kept coming.

"You're so fucking close. I know it. You're thinkin' about me touching you. Can't stand that I'm not there to do it."

High-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips, feeling so empty and wishing he could fill you at this exact moment. You were soaked through your panties, heat turned up inside yourself so much that sweat began to build at your temples. You were a mess in less than two minutes, and all it took was a goddamn recording of his voice.

"Frank…"

Moaning his name into the empty room made you feel dirty and horribly desperate, fingers slicked up to the point you had trouble getting a consistent motion. Your chest was tight with shallow breaths, spine tingling and legs cramping from how wound up your muscles were.

"C'mon sweet girl, let go. Soak that pussy f'me," he demanded in that gruff tone he always used when he brought you right to the cliff's edge.

"Frankie, please…"

You'd lost your mind, begging him for something he could neither hear nor grant you. But he knew. He always knew. Between the sounds of his own slick motions and heady groans, a noise you loved more than anything broke through just when you thought you couldn't take any more.

He whined your name on the end of a heart-stopping moan and just like that, you were gone, vision going white as you threw your head back hard against the armrest you forgot was there. You panted wildly as your hand kept moving, not stopping until you heard that beautiful shudder fall from his lips, signaling his own release. Every inch of you was electrified, sitting there as you breathed together, hours apart but still in sync.

You didn't tell him about that moment, because there was no need. When he made it home at the end of those two weeks, he neither greeted you nor removed his shoes, simply picking you up and planting you onto the counter before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Want you to show me," he asked, warm breath hitting the outer shell of your ear. Disoriented, all you could do was make an inquisitive noise. You'd barely had time to take him in before he was on you.

"Huh?"

"I wanna see how you did it. Want to know how you touched yourself f'me last week."

Your heart picked up in double time, knowing he was dead serious and that you'd do anything he asked. This was uncharted territory for both of you, and you were a little shy to try something like this out of nowhere. What would you even do? You weren't even that used to touching yourself anymore, last week having been a rare exception. It was nice and definitely an intense experience, but it still paled in comparison to the average night with him. Or, as it were, the average day— because he apparently expected you to do this right here, right now. On an early Sunday afternoon where you hadn't even bothered changing out of your slip dress.

Sensing your hesitation, he pulled back to look into your eyes as his hands found your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the thin fabric covering them.

"Don't you worry, baby. I'm gonna guide you through it. Watch my pretty girl touch herself like I tell her to. Whaddaya say, sweetheart? You want that?"

Like I tell her to.

Fuck, yes. You wanted that. You wanted it so badly apparently that Frank saw it in your expression, because he smirked as soon as you looked at him all wide-eyed.

"I…"

"Yeah? What is it, baby?"

He must've known, by that point. With how attuned he was to your body and needs as a general rule, it shouldn't have surprised you. Of course he knew you had it bad. He knew exactly what you liked and why you liked it, and he went so far as to break his one rule in order to drive you even crazier than usual. Maybe your brain shortcircuited too severely after that voicemail, because it was only now that you were realizing…

"You sent that on purpose," you said, a pout forming on your lips.

"Sure as shit didn't send it by accident," Frank retorted, an amused snort bubbling out of him.

"I'm being serious! You knew this whole time?"

"Knew what, huh? That my girl likes a little back and forth during sex?" he grinned, delivering a pinch to your hip.

"All sex is a back and forth, Frank," you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he meant but unable to avoid sassing him.

"M'not suggesting anything different," he shrugged, eyes slipping down your body with clear intention.

Right. Back and forth. He talks and you… You struggle not to come from his words alone. A tempting proposal.

"I want to. I'm just not sure what to do," you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as you finally took a good look at him. He looked good, his beard having grown out even more during his time away.

"What'd I say? You ain't gotta worry about that. S'my job. Just gotta listen to what I say," his voice rumbled in your ear as he leaned in again, a brief but meaningful touch of his body to yours making you realize he was half-hard already.

This man was going to be the death of you, but you had no doubt: he would always making good on his promises, especially the ones he whispered in your ear.

A/N: Just the product of a horny brain. Hope you enjoyed it!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #the punished x reader smut

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dreamtofus · 7 months ago

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I just want to thank anyone and everyone who writes fanfic

like wdym this masterpiece is FREE

ps reblog ur fav fics.

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sunflowersandsapphires · 9 months ago

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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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fastboatsmojito · 8 days ago

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tell me more about the sweet things Frank does pleeaassseee

ugh he’s suuuuch a sweetheart for someone who has every right to be a complete asshole to everyone <///3

Notes; hi guys I have so much other shit to write it’s actually laughable but this is what ur getting for now mostly because im unable to think about anyone else atm #sorry, enjoy!

he’s pretty old fashioned when it comes to most things; leaning his head back to look at you like you’re insane if you try to pay for anything, long legs striding right past you to open doors, a guiding hand on your waist when you’re walking together so you can keep up with him, etc. he’ll be damned if you ever do anything you don’t have to, always insistent on lending a large helping hand whenever you need one.

“Why don’t you just let me help you, huh? Always gotta have an attitude about it.” he made it sound so simple, like the act of him helping you clasp your necklace shouldn’t have you swooning like this, reeling in the rough callouses of his fingers against the back of your neck. of course he wasn’t really upset, shaking his head at your insistent remarks about being able to do it yourself. you could always tell when he was pushing you to accept the love he so thoughtfully handed to you, understanding when you needed a harsher tone or a soothing hand.

that’s just who he is; priding himself in keeping you safe and in the meantime securing every understanding he had of you in his mind, every fear, every goal, the things you’d dream about often enough to bring it up the next morning, he knew you and he knew what you needed, half the time before you knew it yourself. because that’s just who he is. that’s his job — at least that’s what he keeps telling you.

“I don’t have an attitude, but you don’t have to take care of me all the time, Frank. I can-“

“You can take care of yourself. Yeah yeah I know sweetheart, you’re real tough. I know it.” it was hard to look it right now, letting his arms squeeze around you, standing firm in your words as you melted into the strong shape of him behind you.

there were a million examples, and no matter how hard you tried to convince him, he’d do it again and again. coming back home after a rough day and cleaning himself up before picking you up from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch to take you to bed. ignoring the ache in his bones, hushing you with a kiss on your crown, and tucking you under the soft blankets ‘right where you belong’ because that’s just who Frank Castle is.

#I need him so bad #Jesus Christ #pls send me ur frank thoughts if u have any I’m losing my mind #his voice is driving me crazy genuinely #frank thoughts save me from Election Day #please #I hope all of u voted #CORRECTLY #anyways #frank castle pspsps #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle thoughts #frank castle imagine #🌑 blurbs #🌑 reqs

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strawhbrrries · 1 year ago

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domestic frank seeing his girl after she’s just come back from a girls night out and she’s a little tipsy and giggly rambling about how much she loves him and how happy she is with him whilst he’s trying to help her get ready for bed :’)

screaming and crying and throwing up, im so glad someone else had these thoughts <3 lots of sweet frankie under the cut!!!!

You weren’t sure who called him or when he showed up, but god he smelled good. He big, strong arms supporting about ninety percent of your weight as he walked the two of you from the car and into the house.

“Frankie!! You smell so good.” Your words were soon followed by a hiccup and some other things neither of you could quite understand.

“C’mon baby, in the house.” Is all he responded, lifting you up the stairs of the porch and avoiding any falling that may have occurred if he let you climb them yourself.

He took your purse and any other accessory he could find and set it on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and a small snack to help counter, what he was sure was, an empty stomach.

“Missed you so much.” You slurred, clumsily taking off your shoes and smiling up at him proudly when you didn’t fall in the process.

“I missed you too, come drink this water for me, okay?” Frank motioned for you to come over, the space between you and the island counter wasn’t that far so he trusted you enough to make it over there.

“M’kay.”

He stood there and watched you drink the entire glass and eat the entire snack he set out, making sure you swallowed it all and didn’t choke, he felt like a father. He loved you too much to risk you choking on a fucking cracker because you forgot how to swallow, in your inebriated state.

When he had gotten the phone call from you about how much you loved him and how glad you were to have him, he knew it was time to pick you up. He knew how much you loved girls night but at some point, your old man, had enough and wanted you back.

“Let’s go get changed for bed, you need to take your meds too.” He grabbed your hand softly and led you to the bedroom, yet again supporting most of your weight but he didn’t mind.

“Can we have sex?” You blurted out, slapping your hand over your mouth and bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”

He smiled softly at you and sat you down on the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead before changing you into your pajamas for the night. He disappears momentarily before coming back with a paper cup of water and your nightly meds, taking the cup away once you had taken the meds.

“C’mere funny girl, let’s rest.” He climbed into the bed and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm softly as a way to coax you into sleeping.

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

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Can I get a whiskey with Frank castle and “I don’t deserve you” please?

Multi Talented.

warnings - smut. cursing.

haven't written frank in so long!! thank you for requesting <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Oh fuck, Frank."

You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, eliciting a groan from the man who's broad shoulders are keeping your legs apart.

"Shit, Frank. Just- I just - fuck, give me a minute to just-"

Your back arches off the bed as he sucks particularly hard, teeth grazing over your clit. You're panting, chest heaving, hands scrambling for purchase. You're not sure if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer.

He's doing this thing with his tongue, making it difficult for you to breathe. There are silver stars floating in front of your eyes, blurring your vision, shifting your reality.

The city outside hurries on, sirens and car horns soundtracking the night. The room is dark except for the light of the streetlamps, illuminating the shining purple bruise on Frank's cheekbone.

He pulls away to mutter under his breath, barely audible. You wouldn't hear if you weren't so in tune with everything he says or does.

"That's it, pretty girl."

"Atta girl. You got it."

"Yeah. Good fuckin' girl. So good f'me."

His low, raspy tone is what sends you over the edge, gasping as his fingers curl just right. You see salvation in your release, the universe white hot and blinding.

"Where did you learn to do that?" you ask breathlessly, relaxing back against the sheets.

"Told ya I know a few things," he chuckles, crawling up your body so you're face to face.

You kiss him eagerly, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

"Let me show you how much you deserve me," he whispers against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs to part them for him again.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader fluff #frank castle fluff #jon bernthal #murphy's 3k celebration #the punisher x reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher imagine #the punisher #the punisher smut

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lxvvie · 1 year ago

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Your lover who makes themselves home between your legs.

Sucking. Kissing. Caressing. Loving on you.

Your lover who holds you with a stare dazed and penetrating just the same.

Your lover who won't let you cum. Not unless you keep your gaze on them.

"Eyes on me. And only me..."

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wxnheart · 1 year ago

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"I don't want it just tonight, I want forever..."

He's missed this. He's missed you, baby.

Missed the feeling of your bare skin against his. Missed the sounds of heaven in his ears. Missed the way your tight heat envelopes him and welcomes him home.

Oh god, you feel so fucking good.

This moment... he wants it to last forever. He wants every fiber of your being to remember it. Wants you to remember the intensity of the way he fucks you, wants you to remember the way he has you begging for more. He wants you to remember the way he presses your foreheads together and makes you look him in the eyes, makes you see how fucking crazy he is for you, how much he wants you like you want him.

Wants you to see and feel how much he'd always want you.

And fuck, you're so beautiful when you come... but he's not gonna stop. He's not gonna stop fucking you.

He's not gonna stop loving you.

He'll do everything in his power to make you remember this moment.

He'll do everything in his power to make it last forever.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago

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psssstttt….

using frank’s big, heavy balls to rub your clit and him coming on your pussy from the sight of it then fucking his cum back inside

a/n: sliiightly changed the sluttiness, hope that's okay. i swear, i read it so closely, but i think it might have scrambled my horny brain too much because when i sat down to write it, it unfolded slightly differently (still very close, he just doesn't cum from the sight, he just came and then he starts the whole fantasy)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“O-oh my g-god!” you trembled against the sheets as Frank’s weight lightened and he sat back to marvel at the masterpiece he had just painted on your pussy.

“Damn, sweetheart…” you heard him groan, giving his only half-softened girth a generous squeeze before swiping the bulbous head through his load that glistened on your fluttering pussy. Your frame twitched and jumped lightly at the overstimulation as he rubbed his cum further into your puffy petals.

His movements soon became so broad that the entirety of his length slid through your folds, up over your sensitive clit and against the lower part of your stomach, smirking at how exceptionally deep he had been just moments before. But when you felt the weight of him against your lower belly, just before he scooped down to repeat the lavish pattern, so too did you feel a different heft rut against your buzzing pearl, a sensation that caused your hazy eyes to roll in your skull.

Craning down to steal a sloppy peck from your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he purposely nuzzled his heavy sack against your clit.

“You like that, huh?” he chuckled thickly at your reaction, his sturdy nose grazing against your own, “I thought you were done. I thought you said it was too much and that you just couldn’t take it anymore,” peeling himself off of you once more, he leaned back and tapped the weight of him against your collective mess, “and now you’re fucking purring like I didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he smiled down you and you felt his palm run up your shivering frame.

Swiping his thumb across your core, he didn’t clean his cum off of you, but scooped it further down towards your entrance.

Spreading you wide with his digits, you felt the tip of him tease your quivering hole, “you want more, hm? You want me to fuck my cum deep inside of you? Is one load just not enough for my girl today? Because I can keep going, baby. I can keep going till you fucking pass out…”

#lea’s writing #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #jon bernthal smut #marvel smut #marvel x reader smut #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader

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heyimadison · 8 months ago

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march 2024 : madison’s recs

march seemed like such a long month for me yet i feel like i did not achieve my tumble grind i promised you guys last month 😭 april will be my month for real! thank you again to all of these beautiful authors!! i kiss the ground you all walk on🙏

acotar

— azriel

simple needs @surielstea

shattered @azrielwingspan

when you need distraction to survive @mrs-azriel

in my eyes @prythianpages

another love @utterlyotterlyx

baby, mine @thisblogisaboutabook

ends of the earth @parkerslatte

a healers touch @bat-boys

shadows of the heart @highladyandromeda

your name on my body @imaginesmai

— eris vanserra

precious secret @writeroutoftime

pjo

— clarisse la rue

the fall of rome @ampitrit3

inescapable @ampitrit3

happy wife happy life @m0nsterqzzz

you belong with me @queer-little-demigod

— luke castellan

cowboy like me @sycamoregirlsworld

the wizarding world

— theodore nott

i miss you, i’m sorry @angelfic

don’t leave me…please @angelfic

til it’s gone @obsessedwithceleste

tgm

— bradley bradshaw

i will follow you into the dark @kyber-crystal

marvel

— frank castle

a house in nebraska 2 @frankcastlescumslut

divider credit @cafekitsune 💖

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urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

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MCU Characters x Fem!Reader (Part.2)

They react to your outfit for your date with them (Part.2)

As you step out for a much-anticipated date night, your partner reacts with their unique blend of admiration and protectiveness, captivated by your stunning appearance.

Characters: Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Wade Wilson, Logan Howlett, Natasha Romanoff, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Wanda Maximoff & Yelena Belova

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

- Marc is completely caught off guard when he sees you, his usual stoic expression breaking as his eyes widen in surprise. "Holy crap," he mutters under his breath, his gaze glued to you. He’s not used to seeing you like this—dressed to the nines, looking absolutely stunning—and it shows in the way he momentarily freezes, struggling to find the right words. "You look... wow," he finally manages, his voice rough but filled with genuine awe.

- He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he reaches out, his hand resting gently on your arm. "I don’t deserve you," he says quietly, his tone serious, but there’s a softness in his eyes that you don’t see often. Marc doesn’t think of himself as the romantic type, but the way he’s looking at you now makes it clear just how deeply he feels.

- "You sure you want to be seen with me looking like that?" he jokes, though you can tell by the tension in his voice that he’s half-worried he doesn’t measure up to how amazing you look. You reassure him with a smile, and he relaxes slightly, though his gaze remains intense, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

- Throughout the night, Marc is more attentive than usual, constantly checking on you, his protective instincts kicking in. He’s still quiet, but there’s a rawness to his affection—little gestures like holding your hand or brushing his fingers against your cheek—that show how much he’s affected by you. And when the night draws to a close, Marc pulls you into a deep, lingering kiss, as if he’s silently thanking you for being there, for choosing him.

Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

- Steven’s reaction is immediate and utterly endearing. The moment you walk into the room, his eyes widen, and his mouth falls open in astonishment. "Blimey!" he exclaims, his British accent making the moment even more charming. He fumbles with his words for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. "You—you look absolutely gorgeous," he says, his cheeks flushing pink as he awkwardly adjusts his tie, clearly flustered by how stunning you are.

- He’s not the type to play it cool, so when he steps toward you, it’s with genuine awe. His hands hover nervously before finally settling on your shoulders. "I feel like I’m in a dream or somethin'," he says, his voice soft and filled with admiration. "Are you sure you’re real?" Steven’s not shy about expressing how incredible he thinks you look—his eyes are practically sparkling with admiration, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

- As the two of you head out for the evening, Steven constantly fidgets, clearly nervous but excited to be on a date with someone who, in his mind, is way out of his league. "I—I can’t believe you’re with me tonight," he says with a shy smile, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is. His nervous energy is contagious, but it’s also heartwarming, making you feel even more special.

- Throughout the night, Steven showers you with compliments, his words always sincere and never forced. "You’re too perfect," he says at one point, his voice full of wonder. He’s completely smitten, and by the time the night is over, Steven’s eyes haven’t left you once. When he finally works up the courage to kiss you goodnight, it’s soft and tentative, but full of affection—the kind of kiss that leaves your heart fluttering.

Jake Lockley (Moon Knight)

- Jake’s reaction is understated but sharp. The second you step into his line of sight, his eyes darken, scanning you from head to toe with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. He doesn’t say anything at first—he’s not a man of many words, but the way he slowly licks his lips, his head tilting slightly as he takes you in, tells you everything. “Dios mío,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, his voice rough with restrained admiration.

- Jake doesn’t move right away; instead, he leans back in his seat, taking you in like he’s savoring the moment. When he finally does stand up, it’s slow, deliberate. He walks over to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours, and the way he looks at you feels dangerous—thrilling. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he says with a smirk, his voice low and gravelly. There’s a playful edge to his tone, but beneath it, there’s no mistaking how much he likes what he sees.

- He reaches out, his hand grazing your waist as he pulls you in close, his grip firm yet possessive. “You look too good to be out in public,” he teases, his lips just inches from yours. There’s a fierceness in his eyes, like he’s already calculating how to keep you all to himself for the rest of the night. “Let’s skip the fancy dinner, cariño. I’ve got better plans,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with suggestion, though the glint in his eye lets you know he’s half-joking��half.

- Throughout the night, Jake is more protective than usual, keeping a hand on you at all times, his possessive streak showing in the way he glances at anyone who dares to look at you too long. But when you catch his eye, there’s a warmth there, a silent acknowledgment that even behind his rough edges, he’s completely captivated by you. And by the end of the night, when he pulls you into a deep, heated kiss, it’s clear he’s never letting you go.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool, Fox Universe)

- Wade’s reaction is, unsurprisingly, completely over-the-top. The second he sees you, he lets out a loud, exaggerated wolf whistle. “Hot damn!” he exclaims, his mouth hanging open in mock disbelief. “Did I die and go to heaven? Because, sweetheart, you’re making me look like an amateur!” He struts over to you with a goofy grin on his scarred face, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looks in comparison to your stunning appearance.

- “You sure you wanna be seen with this?” he gestures to himself dramatically, hands moving over his scarred body. But before you can respond, he’s already spinning you around like you’re on a runway. “Look at you! You’re the perfect combination of sexy and sophisticated. I mean, I might have to make a new fourth wall break just to brag about how hot my partner is.” His antics are ridiculous, but beneath it, there’s genuine affection in his eyes as he gazes at you with awe.

- Wade doesn’t stop with the compliments. He’s constantly throwing out one-liners like, “You’re so hot, even my regenerative healing factor can’t handle it,” and “We’re definitely getting free appetizers tonight just based on your looks alone.” But every now and then, he’ll drop a quieter, more sincere line: “Seriously, though... you look incredible. Like, jaw-droppingly amazing. I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

- Throughout the night, Wade alternates between being his usual, chaotic self—cracking jokes and making a scene—and being surprisingly sweet. He sticks close to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders and stealing kisses whenever he can. And despite the jokes, you can tell he’s genuinely proud to be by your side. At the end of the night, he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss before whispering, “You and me? We’re the hottest power couple in this or any other universe, babe.”

Logan (Wolverine, Fox Universe)

- Logan’s reaction is subtle but unmistakable. When you walk into the room, his brows lift just a fraction, and a low, appreciative growl rumbles from his chest. “Damn,” he mutters, his voice rough and full of that gruff Logan charm. He doesn’t say much else—Logan’s never been one for flowery compliments—but the way his eyes sweep over you, lingering a little longer than usual, tells you all you need to know.

- He walks up to you with that rugged, confident stride of his, his hand reaching out to tug you close by the waist. “You sure you’re dressed for a date with me and not some fancy rich guy?” he teases, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk. But there’s no hiding the admiration in his voice, or the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. “Guess I gotta step up my game tonight,” he adds, a rare playful glint in his eyes.

- Logan might not be overly romantic, but he’s protective. As the night goes on, he keeps a hand on you, always close, always watching. He doesn’t like attention, but he can’t help the small, prideful grin that tugs at his lips when he catches people glancing at you. “They’re all lookin’ at you,” he grumbles at one point, but there’s no jealousy in his tone—just quiet satisfaction that you’re with him, and no one else.

- By the end of the night, Logan pulls you aside, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, you’re somethin’ else,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, as his fingers trace lazy circles on your back. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” There’s something deeper in his tone, a rare moment of vulnerability from the man who’s usually all gruff exteriors. And when he kisses you goodnight, it’s slow, lingering—like he’s savoring every second.

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

- Natasha’s reaction is calm, collected—like everything with her, it’s controlled. But the way her eyes flick over you when she first sees you, her lips curving into a small, approving smile, tells you she’s more than impressed. “You clean up well,” she says smoothly, her voice steady but full of admiration. Natasha’s not one to gush, but the way she’s looking at you feels intimate, like she’s drinking in every detail without needing to say much.

- She approaches you with that confident grace she always has, her movements fluid and precise. “You look beautiful,” she says softly, reaching out to brush her fingers down your arm. It’s a simple gesture, but coming from Natasha, it feels loaded with meaning. She doesn’t waste words, but the sincerity in her compliment hits harder than any grand declaration.

- As the two of you head out for the night, Natasha stays close, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guides you through the room. She’s calm, collected, and absolutely in control, but there’s a certain pride in the way she carries herself tonight. You catch her glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, and the small, satisfied smirk that plays on her lips tells you she’s enjoying the attention you’re getting—though, as always, she’ll never let anyone know.

- Throughout the night, Natasha is attentive, always making sure you’re comfortable and subtly complimenting you in her own quiet way. “You’re turning heads,” she whispers in your ear at one point, her tone almost teasing, but there’s warmth there, too. By the end of the evening, when you’re alone, Natasha pulls you close, her fingers tangling in your hair as she leans in for a slow, passionate kiss. “You’re incredible,” she murmurs against your lips, and you know, without a doubt, that she means every word.

Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

- Matt doesn’t need to see you to know how breathtaking you look. The moment you walk into the room, he senses it—the way your perfume mixes with the subtle hum of your heartbeat, and the soft rustle of fabric as you move. “You look... incredible,” he says, his voice low and reverent. The way he speaks makes it clear that he’s picturing every detail in his mind, and there’s a quiet intensity to the way he reaches out for you, his fingers brushing lightly over your arm before settling at your waist.

- When Matt runs his hands along the fabric of your outfit, there’s a softness in his touch, almost like he’s committing the feel of it to memory. “You always have a way of surprising me,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a subtle smile. Even though he can’t see, his senses make up for it—he can feel the way you carry yourself, the confidence radiating off of you. And even though he’s usually calm and composed, you can feel the way his pulse quickens ever so slightly when you’re this close.

- Throughout the night, Matt stays close to you, his hand either resting lightly on your lower back or brushing against your arm. He’s always aware of his surroundings, but tonight, his focus is on you. “You’re making it really hard to concentrate on anything else,” he teases quietly at one point, his voice laced with warmth. There’s a deep admiration in the way he speaks, like he’s always amazed by you, no matter how many times you’ve dressed up for him.

- By the end of the night, when it’s just the two of you, Matt pulls you into a slow, deliberate kiss. “I don’t need to see you to know you’re stunning,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way he holds you close, like you’re the most important thing in his world, and it’s clear he’s completely captivated by everything you are.

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

- Frank’s reaction is quiet, but intense. When you step into the room, his eyes lock onto you immediately, and for a moment, he just stares. His brow furrows slightly, not out of confusion, but because he’s trying to process just how damn good you look. “You doin’ this to mess with me?” he finally mutters, his voice low and gravelly, though there’s a hint of admiration in his tone that he can’t quite hide.

- He doesn’t move right away, just stands there, arms crossed, as his eyes roam over every detail of your outfit. Frank’s never been one for flowery compliments, but the way he looks at you—like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you—says more than words ever could. “You’re... somethin’ else,” he says gruffly, scratching the back of his neck like he’s not sure how to handle seeing you like this.

- When he finally walks over to you, his movements are deliberate, his hand sliding around your waist as he pulls you close. “Lookin’ like that, we’re not gonna make it through the night without some trouble,” he mutters, half-joking, but there’s a protective edge to his voice. He’s proud to have you on his arm, but he’s also hyper-aware of how others might look at you—and that protective instinct of his kicks in almost immediately.

- As the night goes on, Frank stays close to you, always keeping an eye on your surroundings. He’s not a man of many words, but he’ll occasionally lean in and murmur something like, “You’re killin’ me with that dress,” or “I’m gonna have a hard time focusin’ on anything but you tonight.” By the end of the evening, when it’s just the two of you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you with an intensity that leaves no doubt about how much he appreciates you.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

- Wanda’s reaction is full of warmth and admiration. The moment she sees you, her lips part slightly, and a soft smile spreads across her face. “Wow,” she breathes, her Sokovian accent softening the word as her eyes light up with pure adoration. She doesn’t try to hide how much she’s in awe of you, and she takes a moment to simply drink you in, her head tilting as she steps closer. “You look... absolutely beautiful.”

- Wanda reaches out, her fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your outfit, almost like she’s checking to make sure you’re real. “I knew you’d look amazing, but this... this is something else.” There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, like she’s genuinely stunned by how radiant you look. Her eyes linger on you, full of quiet affection, and you can feel how much she appreciates every little detail you put into dressing up for her.

- Throughout the night, Wanda is always attentive, her hand either intertwined with yours or resting gently on your arm. She’s constantly stealing little glances at you, and each time she does, there’s a look of pure admiration on her face. “You have no idea how lucky I feel to be with you,” she whispers at one point, her voice soft and full of sincerity. There’s a sense of calm and comfort that radiates from her, and being with her feels like being wrapped in a warm, safe embrace.

- By the end of the night, when you’re alone, Wanda pulls you into a gentle, lingering kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how beautiful you are,” she murmurs, her forehead resting against yours as she smiles softly. There’s something magical in the way she holds you, like she’s utterly enchanted by you, and you can feel her love in every touch, every word.

Yelena Belova (Black Widow, Platonic)

- Yelena’s reaction is playful, as always. When she sees you all dressed up, she lets out a dramatic whistle and claps her hands together. “Oh, look at you! Like a supermodel from Vogue!” she exclaims, her voice full of teasing admiration. She circles you with exaggerated flair, like she’s inspecting you. “What’s the occasion? You getting ready to impress some very important people, huh?” she teases, but there’s genuine appreciation in her tone.

- She walks up to you and flicks a piece of your outfit, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Look at this! You put effort into this, didn’t you? Good thing you have me to make sure you don’t trip over those shoes or something,” she says with a smirk, her humor always present. Despite the teasing, Yelena is visibly impressed, and she shows it with her cheeky compliments. “I’m pretty sure heads will turn. If not, I’ll make sure they do!”

- Yelena is a firm believer in boosting you up, and she does it with her own quirky brand of tough love. “Don’t get too used to being all fancy, though. Tomorrow we’ll be back to the tactical suits,” she jokes, nudging you with her elbow. But then she grins, patting your back. “No, seriously—you look amazing. Like, annoyingly amazing.” There’s affection behind her teasing, a silent acknowledgment that she’s proud to have you as her friend.

- As the two of you head out, Yelena sticks by your side, ready to make sure everything goes perfectly. She offers her signature sarcastic commentary throughout the night, but you can feel her warmth behind it all. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll handle it,” she says with a wink, half-joking. By the end of the night, she gives you a tight hug. “You clean up good. Next time, you pick the restaurant. I’ll be in charge of not getting us into trouble.”

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