#lumberjack frank castle

[munsonownsmyass]

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: After his first visit, Frank comes to town more often. As the days go by, him and Abby get closer.

Notes: Still just some good ol' pining for this one folks. It's a slowburn, I'm sorry 😆

But we get way more Frank in this one and some not so pure thoughts. But really... who could have pure thoughts around Frank Castle? 🥵

There's also a little nod to Matt Murdock in here 🤭

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Words: 3.3K

Part 1 - Masterlist - Part 3

Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since Abby had last seen Frank. Some days she caught herself looking at the door, hoping he would walk through.

Which in itself is really silly. First of all, Mildred said he rarely comes to town, always keeping to himself. Secondly, she had barely talked to him. So why did she think about him?

Well, she had to admit his eyes were kinda pretty. Okay, they were downright beautiful. And thinking about it, his lips were kinda plump and… really kissable.

God, was she really thirsting over a man she barely knew? It really had been too long since she had gotten laid. And how old was he anyway? Definitely older than her, but the beard probably made him look older than he actually was. Abby shakes her head, finishing putting some freshly baked muffins in the display.

Thankfully it’s a slow day, so Abby has lots of time to do some much-needed chores around the store. Browse for new recipes, put the delivered goods in the cooler or storage. Just as she puts the empty boxes away in the backroom, she hears the bell from the door.

“I’ll be there in a sec” she yells cheerfully. When Abby re-enters the store, she sees him. Frank Castle. Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and all that. Without thinking, she instantly smooths down the folds of her apron, before she walks towards him.

“Mr. Castle, what can I do for you today?”

“I wanted some more bread. And maybe some cookies too.”

“You came to the right place then.” she smiles softly, hoping he takes no offence by the playful tone to her voice. She walks towards the counter, gesturing to the selection she has, waiting for his order. When he walks closer, she is reminded of just how tall he is. And broad. God, he is broad.

She forces a smile, looking up at Frank with an innocent face, like she didn’t just think about him. “So what tickles your fancy?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks at her with an intense gaze. His eyes trailing down her body and up again, where they once again meet hers. Abby suddenly feels shy, strangely exposed under his gaze.

“Do you have more of that corn loaf?” He asks, his deep voice calm and soft.

Surprised, Abby’s lips quirk up into a smile. Figures he would be a man of habits. “The same bread again, Mr. Castle? You don’t want to try something new?”

“Just call me Frank.”

A sudden warm feeling washes over her at the prospect of getting to know Frank better. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“I do have one left.” Abby says softly, as she walks to the bread and put it in a bag. As she types the order into the register, Frank just looks at her, studying her quietly. Once she had added the cookies, she looks at him again. Not wanting him to go yet, but still not wanting to push too much, she gestures towards the coffee machine.

“You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No.” He says a bit too hard. He frowns quickly before his face turns softer. “No, thank you.”

It’s strange, as if he’s been alone for so long that he’s forgotten how to interact with people. Abby doesn't mind, though, but the thought makes her sad, makes her wonder why he keeps to himself.

He lingers for a moment, looking to the display, before his eyes find hers again. “You don’t have any red velvet cupcakes?”

 “No, but I can make you some.” Abby smiles softly, suddenly eyeing an opportunity. “If you leave your number, I can call you when they’re done?“

Frank nods softly, taking one of the notepads on the counter. As he scribbles down his number, Abby notices how small the ballpen is in his hand, how small the notepad is against the other. God, his hands are huge. Just like the rest of him. Before she can stop herself, Abby looks him up and down, before scolding herself. Down girl. She doesn’t even know him yet. And even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do, hopeless around men. Truth be told, she’d never had a serious relationship, always been a little shy. Or she just never found the right one. But… Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

She forces herself to look away, biting her lip in shame.

Frank hands her the block, before he puts his hands back into the pocket of his coat. Silence falls between them. Abby fidgets with the block, while Frank looks at her. He opens his mouth, as if he’s gonna say something, but no words come out. He looks away, nods and turns towards the door.

“Have a nice day, Frank.”

He gives her a quick wave and leaves the store. Abby looks after him until he reaches his car, wondering what he wanted to say. She looks at the block in her hand, smiling, before she returns to her chores.

The next day, Abby and Mildred are sitting in the couch area, when Mildred spots something outside.

“Well, will you look at that? Frank is in town again. Twice in one month.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes following him as he walks towards the shop. “Don’t think that has ever happened before.”

“Actually…” Abby starts softly, biting her bottom lip. Mildred looks at her, scotching closer. “He was here yesterday.”

Mildred looks at Abby softly, raising her brow, as a shit eating grin spreads on her face. “Hmm… I wonder what’s suddenly causing him to visit more.”

She nudges Abby’s shoulder playfully, before she puts her cup down, walking towards the back room.

“What are you doing?” Abby asks, confused.

“Leaving you alone with him.” Mildred blinks, before she disappears behind the kitchen door, just in time for Frank to enter the shop. Abby turns to face him, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks. Frank walks towards her slowly, a faint smile on his lips.

Huh. A smile. Would you look at that? Abby can’t help but imagine how he would look with a full-on smile, how it would light up his face.

“I was wondering if my cakes were ready. Was heading to town anyways, so…”

“Oh, yeah. I… I was just about to call you, actually.” She smiles softly, fighting the urge to smile too much. Mildred couldn’t be right, could she?

Abby gets up to get his cakes, already packed up nicely in a little box. As she hands him the box, he has a faint smile on his face, his features softening ever so slightly. Looking softer, he’s not that intimidating. Sure, the hair was a little long, and that beard could use a little trim, too. But it really wasn’t that bad.

As he walks to the door, Abby softly wishes him a good day, even though he never reciprocates. Frank stops in the door, looking out into the street, before he looks back at her. His brown eyes are soft, as they look into her green ones.

“Have a nice day” he says quickly, before lowering his gaze and walking out the store.

Once outside, he looks through the window, but when he sees Abby watching, he blushes and looks away. As Frank walks to his car, Mildred comes out of the backroom, practically snickering. She puts her arm around Abby, a wide smile on her face.

“That is something I never thought I would see. You got more than 5 words out of him. He must like you.”

She gives Abby a little squeeze, before she returns to her coffee, already talking about the county fair, even though it’s still a month away. But Abby’s mind is still on Frank. He couldn’t possibly like her, could he?

She shakes her head, walking over to Mildred, trying not to smile too much.

The next few weeks flew by. Frank had come into the shop 3 more times. Once to pick up more cookies and twice for… Well, Abby wasn’t sure. He said he just wanted coffee, but the coffee couldn’t be that good, could it?

He was still very quiet, not talking much at all. A few sentences here and there, but one thing she noticed was his voice. He sounded warmer, more comfortable. Even his body language changes. He looks more relaxed, the tension gone from his shoulders, as he sits on the couch, enjoying a coffee while looking at the small bookshelves.

One day he casually mentioned he was reading Moby Dick as he was browsing through her collection of classics. It was nice to know they had that in common.

Sometimes they don’t even talk at all, just relax in each other’s company. Every so often, Abby would look up as she’s finishing up a cake, only to find Frank’s eyes already on her. And for every sweet smile she gave him, he would give one in return.

The bell to the shop rings. When Abby looks up, she is in shock for a second. Frank is there and in his hand is a bouquet of Gerber Daisies. Smiling widely, surprised by his gesture, she takes the flowers from him. “What is this for?”

“The shop's three-month anniversary.” His voice soft and… nervous? No, she must be mistaken. “It’s from my garden.” He continues softly, looking at her. Abby is one big smile, as she finds an empty vase and pour some water in. Once the flowers are in, she puts it right on the counter.

He couldn’t have picked a better flower, the Gerber Daisy being one of her favorites. She had always loved colors and could remember how her dad would always bring her mother a bouquet every Friday, filled with Gerber Daisies in all the colors the florist had.

“It… It reminded me of you.” He says softly, a gentleness to his voice that almost makes her heart ache.

“How so?” Abby asks softly, almost certain her face was flushed red at this point.

“You’re colorful.” He huffs softly, before looking down at his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks up into her eyes again. But before he can say anything, they’re interrupted by Mr. Peterson, the guy who owned the flower shop next door.

“Hello Miss Miller. Here with your flowers.”

When he sees Frank, he instantly smiles wider. “Mr. Castle, it’s such a pleasure you’ve been coming to town more.”

Frank nods and smiles, before he walks to the door in a hurry. Mr. Peterson just shrugs it off, before he begins replacing the flowers around the shop.

Abby looks down at the Daisies, gently taking one of the petals between her fingertips. So he thinks about her, huh? A warm feeling runs through her, her heart beating faster. Abby wondered what he was about to say, when they got interrupted? God, she wishes she knew.

Still caressing the soft petal, she barely hears when Mr. Peterson speaks to her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson. What?”

“Just said I was done, Dear. Have a good day.” He looks at her hand, before shooting her a knowing smile. He snickers softly as he leaves the store. Great, now that’ll be all over town. But somehow, she really doesn’t care. She turns to the flowers again and then notices something on the counter. A wallet.

Confused, she picks it up and looks for an ID. A huge grin spreads as she reads the name. Francis Cast-… Castiglione? Italian? And a Francis, huh? Curious, she reads the rest. His address, birthday and… Wait… His birthday was only a few days away. Should she…? No, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? He would probably hate it if she did anything.

If he wanted to celebrate his birthday, he would say so, right? But maybe he didn’t say anything because-

Before she can finish the thought, some customers walk in. As she helps them pick out some cakes, Frank comes back. He sees his wallet and gestures to Abby that he found it, before leaving again.

A week later, Abby is sitting in her car, heading down a small forest road. This was probably crazy, but she really wanted to do something nice for Frank.

The last few months they had gotten closer and dared she think, had become friends? And friends didn’t let another friend be alone on their birthday.

Finally, after 4 wrong turns and 50 checks to many with the GPS, Abby finally pulls into the driveway. As she looks around, she is at a loss for words. The cabin is beautiful, taken straight out of a travel magazine. Beautiful wood and stones, perfectly matched, looking gorgeous against the green of the woods. Near the treeline, there are huge stacks of lumber.

The whole place is really quiet, peaceful. She gets why Frank loves it up here.

From a small gap in the trees, Frank emerges, followed by two pitbulls. When he sees Abby, he drops his axe on a log and walks towards her car, a frown on his face.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. As he strides towards her car, she braces herself. Ready to be scolded, told to fuck off. She slowly exits the car, smiling gently at Frank.

“What are you doing here?”

She can’t quite decipher his expression. A mixture of anger and shock is painted on his face. Maybe even panic. Abby gets it. She’s probably the first one up here in years, maybe ever. “Sorry, I… It’s your birthday, so I wanted to-”

“How do you know?” He demands, looking into her eyes, confusion written all over his face.

“I… I looked in your wallet. To see who left it.” She bites her lip, looking at the ground like a scolded child. When she looks back up into his eyes, his expression has softened.

“Sorry, I… I never have visitors.”

“And now I see why.” Abby smiles nervously, gesturing towards his intimidating posture. Frank instantly relaxes.

A small wine comes from behind him, and they both look at the dogs, sitting nicely, waiting to be called over. Frank whistles and the dogs rush to Abby, almost knocking her over. She’s always loved dogs, grew up with them and had actually been thinking about adopting one after she moved out here.

“Easy boy.” Frank says softly to the eager dark one. God, his deep rich voice always makes her heart flutter.

“They’re cute. What’s their names?” Abby asks curiously, her eyes never leaving the dogs. Always been a dog person, maybe even liking them more than humans. Dogs are honest, their emotions and intentions always clear. She liked that.

“This guy is Max.” He points to the dark grey Pitbull, before turning to the red one. “And this little boy is… Red.”

Frank shuffles slightly, scratching the back of his head, as he looks down at the two of them. “Max I rescued, and Red I got at a shelter. Named after someone I knew years ago.”

He smiles softly as he pats squats down and pat the young Pitbull’s head. Abby couldn’t help but wonder who this person was. Must’ve have meant something to Frank. Abby stands again, brushing the dirt and dog hairs of her fingers. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down her dress, before gesturing towards her car. “I actually brought you something.”

Abby excitedly opens the door, pulling out the cake and a present. Her smile falls slightly, when she sees his face. Abby was expecting him to be surprised, but she never would have expected this.

He looks overwhelmed, like he can’t believe what is happening. Abby’s heart clenches at the thought. How long had it been since anyone had done anything like this for him?

He gestures for her to follow, leading her to the backyard. While he goes inside to get plates, Abby sits down in a lounge chair. She didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it wasn’t quite this. New stylish furniture that complimented the wood of the cabin. It was all very clean and minimalistic, but still somehow had soul. She looks towards the terrace door, dying to know what it looks like on the inside. Maybe next time.

Frank comes back with a tray, holding plates, cups and a teapot. But that’s not what has caught Abby’s attention.

While inside, Frank has taken his jacket off and holy fuck. Abby had never seen arms as his, suddenly feeling her throat dry up. Toned muscular arms, flexed, so thick. And God, the shirt. Until now, she had only seen him with a jacket or sweatshirt on, never really knowing what kind of body was underneath. But now, as his tight t-shirt clings to him slightly damp skin, nothing is left to imagination. A broad, muscular chest. Nipples perked in the cool afternoon air. Abs dancing under the thin fabric. She bites her lip, wondering what he would look like without it, sweat dripping down his chest as he chops wood?

It takes every ounce of willpower for Abby to look away, before she gets caught. Her head now filled with images she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, she clears her throat, pushing the cake towards Frank.

“I… I-“ she coughs, stumbling over her words. Damn, how could he affect her so much without even doing anything. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I made carrot cake.”

“Well, lucky for you I love cream cheese frosting.” A wide smile plays on his handsome features. Just when she didn’t think he could be any prettier, he smiles.

Frank carves them both a piece and then they eat in silence, looking out over his grounds. A big field of grass surrounded by trees. To one side, there’s a big greenhouse filled with plants and raised beds with herbs. To the other side there’s bushes with berries.

All over the yard there’s flowers, making it a colorful space. But closest to her, in many pots on the terrace, there’s Gerber Daisies. Just like the ones he gave her, in all colors of the rainbow. “This place is really wonderful, Frank.”

He just smiles and mutters a quiet thank you through a mouthful of cake. Abby giggles softly, the sight of Frank with his mouth full priceless, his cheeks filled out like a chipmunk. “So, I take it the cake was a hit?”

“Best damn cake I’ve had in years, sweetheart.”

She’s so damn easy. One ‘sweetheart’ leaves his lips and she’s a puddle. But to be fair, that voice of his is something else.

Abby gently pushes the present towards him. Frank tears the paper away, smiling when he sees the book. Okay, sure, maybe she should have gotten him something else. But she didn’t know him well enough, and he did seem to love books.

“Looking at what books you eyed at the shop, I thought that you might enjoy ‘The Call of the Wild’.”

“I love it, thank you.” Frank smiles softly, opening the book, inspecting the pages. Suddenly captivated by the way his fingers gently dance over the pages, Abby can’t help but wish she was that book. To have his fingers dance over her skin like that. She swallows a huge lump, looking at his hands. How could such a big book look small in his hands?

After a moment's silence, he looks into her eyes, suddenly looking a little nervous. “Abby, you’re going to the county fair, right?”

Slightly surprised by his question, she tells him how Mildred coerced her into helping set up. “But my evening is free. Why?”

“Maybe… You’d wanna go with me?”

Abby isn’t sure he heard him right. But the way he smiles, she knows it’s true. She can’t hold back her smile, as she happily agrees.

She was already tripping. Did he just ask her on a date? As she looks up into his beautiful chocolate eyes, a soft smile on his face, her heart flutters. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @chvoswxtch @theradioactivespidergwen @danzer8705 @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

And some no pressure tags 🙈: @anna-hawk @feelmyskinonyourskin @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lilac

a/n: ...yes i did spend about an hour in procreate trying to change the sign on the right photo to say lilac and not the name it originally said... welp. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't an overachiever.

summary: moving back home to the family-run inn isn't exactly what you had expected, especially not with the mysterious lumberjack that now calls the quaint little town of Dunbrook his home as well...

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, running an inn in a tiny rural town, explicit sexual content, violence, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, pete castiglione era, total word count is 51k

masterlist | join my taglist | series playlist

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

A SUMMER IN DUNBROOK

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[frankcastlescumslut]

just watched the new Daredevil trailer………….guys. we’re back in business.

[munsonownsmyass]

Court?! Yeah, hi.. hello.. so, uhm, do you think making me this horny is cool? I mean, longhaired bearded Frank is one thing, but hunting his own meat? Living in the woods?! IN A SECLUDED CABIN?!! I need to lay down..

OMG HII HAPPY 2K, LOVE!!!!

Thank you for writing and sharing it with the world, FOR FREE ‼️💖💕💞

Truly a blessing if u ask me and know you're appreciated by me (a big whore) and other people alike 😋

I'd like to order an old fashioned with Frank Castle, please!

So here goes my silly thot:

hunter/butcher!Frank au (anything to do with selling meat)

+

"I didn't come here for meat. I came for your meat."

AHHH MY LOVE!!! THANK YOU!!! 💖

i'm not gonna lie to you, reading this one turned me rabid. if i may be an absolute whore add some spice to this old fashioned-

this old fashioned is garnished with jalepeño (minors dni)

thots below the cut

frank castle's meat

let's set the stage, shall we? we're talking long haired, bearded frankie (think punisher season 1)

he's the local butcher in town, and all his meats come from his own hunting kills

now frankie has a shop most of his customers come to so they can get their meats, but because you typically work while his shop is open, he allows you to come by his cabin to pick up your orders

his secluded cabin in the middle of the woods (you know where this is going)

now you know for a fact he doesn't allow anyone else to do this, and you use that knowledge that he's sweet on you to your full advantage

maybe your dresses and shorts get a little shorter with every visit, or your shirts get just a little more low cut, but frankie doesn't seem to mind and you notice his flannels and henleys are far more unbuttoned around you than they are when he's in town

being the gentleman he is, he loads everything into your car for you

"can't have you gettin' your pretty hands all dirty."

sometimes he lingers for a moment, leaning up against your car as he asks you about your day or how work is going, and you ask him questions in return. if he's busy and doesn't have time for small talk, he'll throw a little extra something in for you, but he never invites you inside

he's not the chattiest person, and he's always polite and professional when he's talking to you, but that doesn't mean you don't catch the way his eyes wander when he thinks you're not watching him

you keep your flirting playful and light, just in case you're reading him wrong and he really is just that nice, but eventually you grow frustrated and decide if he's not going to make a move, then you will

so you put on your prettiest dress and the sexiest pair of panties you own and drive to frankie's one friday night, and that mountain of a man is on his porch before you can even shut your engine off bc he saw the headlights

and while there's clear confusion on his face when he sees you, the second you get out of your car and he sees what you’re wearing, that confusion quickly melts into something else

"hey sweetheart. I uh...missin' somethin'? didn't think you had an order to pick up tonight."

and the clear lust shinning in his eyes underneath the glow of the moonlight fills you to the brim with that last ounce of confidence you needed to finally get what you want

you swear you see him swallow thickly when you approach him slowly with a sultry smile on your lips and a shake of your head

"I didn't come here for meat, Frankie. I came for your meat."

again, being the gentleman he is, frankie just stares at you with wide eyes, refusing to make a move until he's sure he knows exactly what you're asking for and stumbling over his words

"I uh...don't think I...I know what you're askin' for here, sweetheart."

"I think you do, Frankie. I think you want something from me, too. What do you say we work out a trade?"

if you weren't so turned on you would find it comical that you rendered the giant broody man everyone in town was intimidated by so nervous that he couldn't speak, but you were turned on and impatient so you take frankie's hands and guide them to your hips until he gets the hint

and that is all the confirmation he needs to pounce and then there is not an inch of your skin his hands aren't exploring

he's wanted you for so long that he can't even make it to the bedroom. he spreads you out right over his dining table and drops to his knees to get a taste of you before he's fucking you so hard over it that the table ends up halfway across the living room by the time he's done with you

needless to say, you're his favorite customer

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Fall Drabbles, Day 7

prompt: flannel

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank loves that you wear his clothes but would rather you stay warm when you're not feeling well.

warnings: swearing, brief non-graphic descriptions of illness, fluff

a/n: I keep warning for swearing but I don't even think these all have swearing lol. Anyways, another one in the Lumberjack!Frank AU!

w/c: <1k

Treading up the hill through the snow, Frank hefted the pile of freshly split logs to the top of the existing stack, except for the handful he carried under his arm and into the cabin. Kicking off his boots, he carefully placed two new logs into the dying fire, stirring the embers before replacing the screen as quietly as he could. 

The house was dark, quiet—lacking the life that you usually brought to it. That was what he expected tonight, though. He'd been out later than usual, a cacophony of nightmares and intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind as he hacked into tree after tree.  Combined with the fact that you were feeling under the weather, he was glad to come home to a silent house and a diminishing fire rather than an exhausted, yet awake, girlfriend. 

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he plopped down on the sofa, snatching his current read from the end table as he sat. As he made his way through a few chapters, the growing heat from the flames pushed the chill from his aging bones. Shifting onto his side, a soft padding caught his attention. You shuffled out from his bedroom, rubbing your eyes with a yawn. 

“Hiya, sleepyhead.” Frank murmured, catching you as you collapsed into his lap. “How're ya feelin'?“

Giving a half-hearted shrug, you nestled in against him. ”Little better.“ Your poor voice was scratchy and quiet as a mouse. He was overcome with the urge to whisk you back into the bedroom and bundle you up tightly—especially when he registered that your outfit was only a flannel shirt. 

”Hmm, ya don't sound too good. Ain't ya chilly, sweetheart?“ He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing one hand over your exposed thigh in an attempt to warm you up. 

Nodding against his neck, you shuddered. Frowning, Frank pressed a kiss to your head. “Why don't we get ya somethin' better to wear? Ya look adorable in my shirt, doll, but it ain't the warmest choice.”

Making a mournful noise of protest, you wrapped the soft fabric tightly around yourself. “I like it. It's soft, like you.” 

Frank chuckled at the unique description of himself, hand still stroking your bare leg. “A'right, let's get ya some pants, at least.”

Gently setting you on your feet, Frank's heart swelled with a protective affection when you shyly took his hand as he led you to the bedroom. You looked so small in his massive shirt, arms completely dwarfed by the plaid sleeves

Finding his softest pair of sweats, he held them up. “How 'bout these?” 

At your sleepy yet affirmative nod, he gestured for you to sit before slipping the pants over your legs. Tying the string tightly to prevent the oversized fabric from falling down, Frank perched next to you, holding you upright as a coughing fit bent you at the waist. 

“Christ, doll, you ok?” In lieu of a response, you sighed roughly and let him put an arm around your sagging shoulders. “Why don't I make ya somethin’ hot to drink before we both get some rest?” 

“Yes please.” You whispered, hoarsely. Kissing your cheek tenderly, Frank stood up and made for the door—only to be pulled back by your weak grip.

“Can I come?” Your voice cracked around the request and he winced as his own throat ached in sympathy. 

“If you want to, darlin’,” He nodded, grasping your waist to help you off the bed. 

Once in the kitchen, Frank got to work. Grabbing a lemon, some honey, and a bottle of whiskey from the pantry, he pulled you flush against him as the water started to boil—tucking your unusually warm head under his chin and drawing circles over your back. 

Grimacing at the shrill whistle from the teapot, you withdrew from his comforting embrace, giving an insincere smile when he showed you the silly mug he’d set aside. 

Frank made quick work of the task at hand, whipping up the hot toddy with ease and passing it to you. “Careful, darlin’, it’s hot.” 

Nodding blearily, you gratefully accepted the mug, pulling it to your flannel-covered chest with a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.” You murmured, blowing on the liquid before taking a few small sips. Humming appreciatively, you closed your eyes. 

“Anytime, babydoll.”

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

Some books and stories that I think are worth reading in conversation with Yellowjackets

Shirley Jackson, all works but especially The Sundial, The Haunting of Hill House, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Jackson might or might not need any introduction in this fandom. The Sundial is her take on doomsday preppers, Hill House is of course her haunted house novel (one of the classics of that genre), and Castle has a female protagonist who makes Shauna look like a plaster saint.

Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear It Away. O'Connor's work has some of the most pervasive darkness and brutality of any major American writer (maybe Ambrose Bierce comes close), and the second of two novels that she completed before her death is no exception. (The first, Wise Blood, is also very good; the intended third, Why Do the Heathen Rage?, only exists as a fragmentary short story.) Francis Marion Tarwater is kidnapped and raised in the woods by his great-uncle, who is convinced that Francis is destined to be a prophet. The great-uncle's death commences a bizarre adventure involving auditory hallucinations, sinister truckers, an evil social worker, arson, developmental disabilities, and baptizing and drowning someone at the same time. Content warnings for all of the above plus rape. O'Connor is also a fairly racist author by today's standards--she was a white Southerner who died in 1964--so keep that in mind as well.

Ruth Ozeki, The Book of Form and Emptiness. Teenage protagonist is schizophrenic and also a channel for a genuinely supernatural force; well-intentioned but poorly-considered efforts to treat one of these issues make the other worse. Sound familiar? There are supporting characters who are affectionate parodies of Slavoj Zizek and Marie Kondo. A minor character is a middle-aged lesbian who cruises dating apps for hookups with much younger women. Some people find this book preachy and overwritten, but I really like it and would plug it even if I didn't because the author is someone whom I've met and who has been supportive of my own writing.

Yukio Mishima, The Decay of the Angel. Can be read in translation or in the original Japanese. This is the fourth and last book in a series called The Sea of Fertility but I wouldn't necessarily recommend the first three as particularly YJ-ish; Decay is because it deals at great length with issues of doubt and ambiguity about whether or not a genuinely held, but personally damaging, spiritual and religious belief is true. There's also more (as Randy Walsh would put it) lezzy stuff than is usual for Mishima, a gay man. Content warnings for elder abuse, sexual abuse of both children and vulnerable adults in previous books in the series, forced abortion in the first book if you decide to read the whole thing from the beginning, and the fact that in addition to being a great novelist the author was also a far-right political personality.

Howard Frank Mosher, Where the Rivers Flow North. An elderly Vermont lumberjack and his Native American common-law wife refuse to sell their land to a development company that wants to build a hydroelectric power plant. Tragedy ensues. I haven't read this one in a long time but some images from the movie stick in my mind as YJ-y. Lots of fire, water, and trees.

Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers. Yes, this is the same Leonard Cohen who later transitioned into songwriting and became a household name in that art form. Beautiful Losers is a very weird, very horny novel that he wrote as a young man; it deals with the submerged darkness and internal tension within Canadian and specifically Quebecois society. One of the main characters is Kateri Tekakwitha, a seventeenth-century Iroquois convert to Catholicism who was probably a lesbian in real life (although Cohen unfortunately seems unaware of this). This one actually shows up YJ directly; the song "God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot" that plays in the season 2 finale takes its lyrics from a particularly strange passage.

Monica Ojeda, Jawbone. Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. Extremely-online teenage girls at a posh bilingual Catholic high school in Ecuador start their own cult based on such time-honored fodder as Herman Melville novels, internet creepypasta (no, this book does not look or feel anything like Otherside Picnic), and their repressed but increasingly obvious desire for one another. The last part in particular gets the attention of their English teacher, whose own obsessive internalized homophobia grows into one of the most horrifying monstrous versions of itself I've ever read. Content warning for just about everything that could possibly imply, but especially involuntary confinement, religious and medical abuse, and a final chapter that I don't even know how to describe. Many thanks to @maryblackwood for introducing me to this one.

Jorge Luis Borges, lots of his works but especially "The Aleph," "The Cult of the Phoenix," and "The South." Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. The three works I list are all short stories. The first deals with mystical experiences and the comprehensibility (or lack thereof) of the universe, the second with coded and submerged references to sexuality in general and homosexuality in particular, the third with leaving your well-appointed city home for a ranch in the middle of nowhere and almost immediately dying in a knife fight, which is surely a very YJ series of things to do.

H.P. Lovecraft, "The Colour out of Space," "The Dunwich Horror," "The Dreams in the Witch House," and "The Thing on the Doorstep." Lovecraft in general needs no introduction--the creepiness, the moroseness, the New Englandness, the purple heliotrope prose, his intense racism (recanted late in life but not in time to make any difference in his reception history) and the way his work reflects his fear of the Other. These short stories are noteworthy for having settings that are more woodsy and less maritime than is usual for Lovecraft's New England, for overtones of the supernatural rather than merely the alien, for featuring some of his few interesting female characters, and for their relative lack of obvious racial nastiness. Caveat lector nevertheless.

Herman Melville, Moby-Dick. It's Moby-Dick. Once you realize that Captain Ahab is forming a cult around the whale and his obsession with it you can't unrealize it.

[bernthirst-events]

BEARDTHAL BASH 2023

Hello fellow Bernthirsters!

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

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

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

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

Ready? Set… Thirst!

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

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

Deadline: September 18 - September 24.  

Tumblr Tag: BeardthalBash

AO3 Collection: BeardthalBash2023

POSTING GUIDELINES

[the-firebird69]

I'd rather GT Bradley what it means is the max and our people that's supposed to get hurt in them that's what Dave was saying and you guys don't get the code but Bradley the one who punched our son in the nose and it also means like Brad and Lee in other words to nail the rebels but only with little brads. And that's what it means and it means something different to the max no they don't really like the car but we like it cuz we use it backwards and people want to see us do it

Frank Castle Hardcastle

It's unreal your own brother did it you kind of knew about it then we get that but he says ultimately he was after us with his robotics in the ships and was starting to see that it's amazing so I might start producing my own version with the Volkswagen bug we have a ton of them Australia

Brad I do see how the original one was and it makes more sense it's very fast in that format but the windows horrendous it's like a hatchback and this way to do it and it looks really cool and make a little window and it stretches back it's intense and it molded a little I said it wouldn't hurt a little bit you going faster than the speed of sound it keeps the line. They might do that too and they're looking at it and it works and the inlet is going to be small and yeah you got a depressurize it and the wheel wells and the size has to be recommended and the offset and so forth strength I don't like it going with a solid top and is reinforcing for the VW so I got almost all of it I'm going to go ahead and try and make one and there's so many Volkswagens here and certain colors go with it yeah yellow does not go with the color that they had it goes with some blue note red goes with red and it goes with dark green and it goes with nothing else

Brad

Nothing Brad and okay talking to myself here said no you're trying to look prettier and prettier and everybody's noticing and Brad's could probably get beat up that's very funny

Becka oops

Oh yeah and no I'm not playing Queen Elizabeth I don't have to look like her that's very fun. I think I like this car and they're trying to get Cannon Ken potato and they're trying to get the big guys and they need some funding they say and they're right there so they'll probably do it this might work yeah he only makes 20% because they're funding it so they like the way he's doing it real cheapo Depot but very high tech and very well done and all aftermarket parts you can order it online this is great these things are really cool but you know what this is going to be a supercar according to modern standard and if they don't let you in the club they're going to lose the race and that's what we're up to you

Sarah

and we shall call her a Queen Sarah

Zues

What the hell yeah it's kind of funny so I'm kind of yelling at him he's going could you stop yelling at me I can't hear a damn thing in this coconut. So we can have a lot of fun but I want to try and get this going I've got his idea and I can get Ken to do stuff and my husband says Ken has to try the seat of the VW bug that's the first goal because his character has a special butt and it has to be treated correctly and we don't want to mess with the goods so I'm going to check it and have security team looking at it

Hera

My security team will look into it and yeah they're watching my ass and someone before it's nice it's cushy and doesn't squish down I'm pretty sure it's a winner it's not like the Porsche when you sat in the Porsche said I can't feel my ass I sat in the VW and I said this is nice it's a good thing to leave the seats

Ken

Go ahead with this idea and it's so cool I have to start now

Joe I'm going to work on your pancake House idea in the big cup of joe these are all things that would sell liquidy split fast as hell and this guy needs tons of money and sitting here looking at him wondering what to do he has put a lumberjack cap on you'll figure it out so we have an investor over there

Literally we are in trouble and we need to do stuff and this is when I did and this is one idea it's really good one this car would fly and then he would make a bigger one for the chassis I was talking about but he has to start with the Volkswagen cuz some sort of psychological Fandango I'm going to start talking like him if we keep doing this but really his brother was talking some real smack and his brother was talking some smack back I can't believe how awful it is but they're both telling their people about it for Christ's sake. So I'd like to move on this car and Ken has the idea and we do talk it's kind of a go ahead permission slip to make money off it because you kind of telling him without saying it and we're moving on it

Mac

It says you can buy a Volkswagen and change it if it gets any money so we buy a Volkswagen for five grand drive around and said I can't stand it people call me German I had to turn it into the sports car that's kind of funny

Ken

Yeah the old stigmatism stigma and we can do it too but really we're going to have a lot of fun this sounds like fun and he wants us on board he's been saying it and it looks like it'll work even during the chaos and speaking of which the huge fleet is moving off and heading towards Tommy f to get the stupid s*** out of here

Black God and Black Goddess

You may think it's funny but we need a purple one we'd like to get it going and you say you need help those Volkswagens would do very nicely out here even the kit with the Hummer it is better because it would be rear wheel drive and works in the dirt all the time and the tires get out of most stuff or you can pull it out I'm going to look into it and into making the kit and he says terrific make the kit over there and sell it over here too we'll set up a factory and it'll be built and you'll be making the profits a lot of it because you'll be the first one to do it I'm going to get going on it now it's great for the sand

Gu Oya we have a crap load of them they are all say this racist stuff and the Humvee is also kind of a racist thing so we're going to go ahead and we're going to put this together we have people over here and Shaquille O'Neal wants to do it and I doesn't know he's already on the code it's been on it for a long time what's out in that western movie with Garth oops Garth he went the wrong way

[joannasteez]

i watched a vid of a lumberjack and now i want lumberjack!Frank😫

[e-dubbc11]

My lovely Lily,

I know I’ve told you before how much I love your attention to detail, to paint a picture that’s so clear and vivid…it’s part of what makes you a wonderful writer. This is no exception, the detail inside the bakery, down to the little note from Nana….i love it and I can’t wait to read more of Abby and Frank.

Plus …lumberjack Frank castle?!! Please! Who wouldn’t wanna read about that?!! ♥️♥️♥️

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: Abby inherits a bakery after her grandmother. She's not too keen about moving, this is all a very big change, but maybe this place isn't too bad. Maybe she might even find something to stay for?

Notes: This chapter is mostly to set the scene. There will be much more Frank in the next one 😉

Also, thank you to my lovely Ericca @e-dubbc11 for reading this through.

Words: 2.3 K

Abby had never really thought that she’d own a bakery. There had always been a love for baking, and she remembered all the times she had baked with her grandmother, but owning a bakery in Bar Harbor, Maine? It would certainly take some time getting used to this.

When her grandmother died, she left Abby her bakery. Along with the deed to the shop and a key to Nana’s house, there had been a small note.

“Life is too short, Abby. Make it sweet.”

It had come as a shock when she passed. Abby always felt that she had a special connection to her grandmother that the others didn’t, spending almost every summer since she was a kid in Bar Harbor, playing in the bakery, stealing frosting. Her grandmother always pretended she didn’t notice, but Abby knew she did.

When the other kids would play outside, fishing or play soccer, she would immerse herself in decorating cakes, taking joy in watching as the bread would rise, hearing that sweet crunchy sound that only comes from a whole tower of baked bread fresh out of the oven.

Her grandmother always encouraged her to bake. Asking if she'd help her in the kitchen during the holidays or ask for her help in the store. Maybe she secretly hoped to fuel Abby's love for baking, planning for her to take over the shop all along.

The thought makes Abby smile. Of course, that’s what this was. Her grandmother never did anything half assed, so why would she do it with her legacy? And now she was here at last. Well, almost. It had been 40 minutes, and she was still standing outside the shop, staring in through the window.

It was hard to go in there, knowing Nana wouldn’t be on the other side of the counter. Could Abby even make this place as great as she did? With Nana, everyone always felt welcome. Like they were family. Like this little space was a home away from home.

You know that feeling when you step into a store, no matter what kind, and instantly feel like you belong? That you could spend hours there, looking at every little detail, taking in every smell, flavor and sound? Yeah, Nana’s bakery was that kind of place. She was everyone’s grandmother.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Abby turns to see a sweet, older woman smiling beside her. She seems so familiar somehow, but it’s been years since Abby’s been here, so it's hard to remember everyone.

“Oh, yeah. I just… I’m trying to muster up some courage to go in.” Abby answers nervously, knowing how odd it must sound.

The realization dawns on the older woman and she instantly smiles, pulling Abby into a big hug. “Oh, Abby! I haven’t seen you in years. How are you?”

Some might feel weird about hugging a stranger, but she wasn’t really, was she? Abby hugs her back, not feeling alone for the first time since she arrived.

“I’m so sorry. I… I don’t really remember you.” She admits, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’m Mildred. I was your Nana’s neighbor.”

A smile slowly creeps up Abby’s face as she remembers Mildred. She was this sweet lady that would always stop by Nan’s house, especially after grandpa passed away. She had been there for Nana, always funny and the life of the party. Exactly the type of person Abby could only hope to be when she got older.

“Well, I guess I’m your neighbor now. Nana, she... She left me both the shop and the house.” The sadness hits her out of nowhere. She also had to go into Nana’s house. The last few days, as everything got finalized, she had bounced between the lawyer’s office and the motel. It hadn’t really dawned on her yet that she actually had to go through Nana’s things too.

Abby sighs heavily, happy that her parents and sister will be here in a few days, so she wouldn’t do the clean up alone. It would be hard for all of them, but thinking about her dad going through his mother’s stuff is enough to make Abby sad. A lifetime of stuff and memories, just waiting to get sorted.

It was probably good that Abby would be there too, to stop them from throwing out the important stuff. The books definitely needed to stay, especially the cooking books. Every page filled with Nana’s own notes.

Abby is brought back to the present by Mildred softly taking her hand. Rubbing soothing circles on the back of Abby’s hand, Mildred gives her a soft smile. “I know it’s a lot. Come on, I’ll go with you.”

See, this was probably why it was Abby who got the shop. Nana raised 4 boys, none of them even picking up a utensil unless it was for the grill. Never understood the joy of creating something, 'except for a mess'. Nana's words, not Abby's.

Abby looks down at the key in her hand, exhaling softly. With a final reassuring nod from Mildred, she opens the door and walks in, thankful she didn’t have to do this alone.

Looking around, she notices that not much has changed since she last was there. The same cake stands Nana got for Christmas when Abby was 8. Her favorite apron on the counter. Abby walks closer, fingers touching the worn fabric. How old was this thing even?

Feeling a single tear escape, Abby quickly wipe it away, looking at the rest of the store. Mildred turns on the light, the warm glow falling on the displays and the small tables in front. This place had always felt like home to Abby. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad? With a little cleaning and a little remodeling, it would be an amazing place.

The rest of the day Abby and Mildred cleans up in the bakery, removing a months’ worth of dust. As they unbox some new gear and put everything in order, they fall into a rhythm. The years of helping her grandmother is still there, like muscle memory.

Almost done, Abby turns to ask Mildred a question, but finds her smiling softly. Abby puts down the old order book, suddenly a bit shy. “What?”

“You just… remind me so much of Mary.” Mildred’s bottom lip quivers as tears fill her eyes. Abby had been holding back her tears all day, but hearing those words from Mildred makes her lose the fight. As the tears pour down her cheeks, Mildred takes Abby into her embrace.

They stay like that for a while, taking comfort in each other’s arms. No number of hugs could make them forget about Nana, but at least they have each other now.

The first week flies by in the blink of an eye. Abby is at the shop every day, trying to get the place ready for the big relaunch. All the walls get a fresh coat of paint. Nana had always loved natural colors, nothing to bright or bold. But it was time for a change. The shelves might keep their white color, but the walls were now beautiful teal.

As a true friend, Mildred was still team Nana and thought the color was too much. But eventually she admitted it wasn’t too bad. The same with the new tables for the little café corner. Red leather on the chairs, black tabletops. It was beautiful.

On the opposite side of the entrance, in the best Friends style, was a big orange couch, a little coffee table and a single chair. The space looked inviting, hopefully making people wanna stay for some coffee and cakes. And just to add a little bit of herself, Abby added some shelves with books. And lots of plants.

When Abby puts down the last pot of flowers on one of the small tables, she looks around. Bright and inviting, the colors making the place vibrant. The place had come alive again, felt like her space now.

But Nana’s spirit wasn’t gone. Far from it. Near the couch, she had made an entire wall with pictures. Nana on the opening day of the bakery, Abby herself on a small stool piping frosting on a cupcake, Nana in the window of the shop with a big smile as always. All of them were there. Nana, her father and his brothers, all the grandkids. An homage to the incredible life that Nana lived. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.

The next few weeks were a blur, so full of people. Some just stopped by to give their condolences to Abby. Most wanted to talk about Nana, share stories from the times they shared with her and how they missed her. Some seemed like they only came to see what had happened to the little bakery, a few muttered words about the colors being “a tad too much”.

But most were just there to stare at Abby. She wasn’t exactly new to town, but many hadn’t seen her in years and Abby could barely recognize them. But they were all kind, they really were. Offering advice, help and even wanting to get her involved in the community.

One thing Abby had always loved were slow mornings. Just time to enjoy her tea, looking at the sun rising, letting the sunlight soak into her pores. The ride from the house to the town was so beautiful, the nature more amazing than what she was used to from back home.

On her short walk from the parking lot to the shop, people actually waved to her, and the birds are chirping. Maybe she was too quick to judge this place? It wouldn’t be so bad.

She stops in front of the bakery, slowly pulling out her key, ready to start a new day.

“Mary always opened at 8.30.”

Startled, Abby looks to the side. She looks directly into a chest, having to look up to see his eyes. He's tall and broad, so broad. His hair is a little long and his beard a bit on the unruly side too. He honestly looks a bit intimidating. The way his dark eyes looks into hers, his jaw clenched as he looks impatient.

“I’m so sorry, I…” Abby tries softly, shaking her head before looking at the stranger again. “I was told that 9 was fine. Sorry.”

He just tilts his head slightly, looking at her. With a raised eyebrow, he gestures towards the door. Abby just nods, quickly opening the door and letting him in. As she scrambles to get the apron on and starting up the register, he just stands there, looking at her. She checks in with the worker that showed up early to start the baking, making sure everything is on track.

The entire time Abby can feel his eyes on her, almost burning into her skin. Whether its curiosity or annoyance, she doesn’t know. When everything is finally up and running, she looks up at him with a timid smile.

“So, what can I do for you?”

He steps closer to the counter, hands in his pockets. Abby can’t help but feel small compared to him, as he towers over her.

“This place still make that loaf with the corn crumble on top?” He asks, his deep voice causing Abby to lose all ability to speak for a moment.

“Ehm, yeah. I do. I mean, we do. Yes.” Abby blushes, feeling stupid. Why so flustered? It's just a guy. A handsome guy, but still. He breaks into a small smile.

“So… that’s a yes then?” he teases, and it only makes Abby blush even more. She just nods and when he asks for one, she quickly bags one for him.

“Anything else you’d like?”

She looks into his eyes, beautiful brown like the tastiest chocolate. Abby hates to admit it, but there is something about that rugged man. He could use a haircut and a shave, but still…

“Chocolate chip cookies.”

He’s a man of few words, it seems. Abby just takes a bag and places on the counter, giving him the total. When he hands her the money, their fingers touch for just a second.

Abby bites her lip, looking away as she takes the money and put them into the register. Brushing a strain of hair behind her ear, she feels herself get flustered as she looks up at him.

“Have a great day.”

He gives her a quick smile, barely there, before he turns towards the door. On his way out, Mildred meets him in the door. “Morning Frank. What brought you to town?”

He just lifts up the bags and walks out of the store. Abby can’t help but look at him as he walks away. “Who is he?”

“That, honey, is Frank Castle. We don’t really know much about him. Moved here a couple of years ago, keeps to himself. Rarely comes to town.” She shrugs a little, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “He was in the army, I believe. Marines, maybe. Now he works for Hammond Lumber Company.”

Abby looks out of the window, catching a glimpse of Frank before he disappears around the corner. He sure does have a great ass. Clearing her throat, turning her focus back to Mildred, she tries to look uninterested. “Lumber Company… So he’s a lumberjack?”

“Yes. And honey, I'm telling you. I might be an old woman, but you should see him chop wood. Even makes me break a sweat.” She giggles like a schoolgirl, playfully nudging Abby’s shoulder. Abby just smiles softly as she pours herself some tea.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she would bump into him again.

She tries to straighten up a bit, getting ready for her customers to arrive. Keep her mind distracted. But her thoughts keep drifting back to the man from before. Frank Castle. Huh.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @theradioactivespidergwen @chvoswxtch @boliv-jenta @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @lucy-sky @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

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

previous chapter | series masterlist 

masterlist | join my taglist

“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[wintersoldierslover]

my fic recs masterlist

---

Bucky Barnes:

all bucky barnes

headcanon  -  blurb  -  one-shot  -  series - two-parter

40s  -  The Winter Soldier  -  Avenger  -  TFATWS

dbf!bucky  -  brother’s bff  -  bff’s brother

neighbour  -  housewife reader

lumberjack  -  firefighter  -  bodyguard

priest bucky  -  college

football player  -  hockey player  -  boxer

professor  -  teacher  -  librarian/bookshop

coffee shop  -  soulmate  -  royal

other AUs  -  taboo

moodboard  -  deactivated:(

---

Stranger Things characters:

all eddie munson  -  all steve harrington

eddie and steve (x reader)

billy hargrove  -  jason carver  -  mike wheeler

dmitri enzo antonov  -  jim hopper

robin buckley  -  nancy wheeler

---

Outer Banks Characters:

all Rafe Cameron

all JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank (x reader)

Pope Heyward  -  Topper Thorton

John B.  -  Sarah Cameron

Kiara Carrera

---

Marvel characters:

Wanda Maximoff  -  Kate Bishop

Natasha Romanoff  -  Yelena Belova

Peter Parker  -  Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers  -  Stephen Strange

Frank Castle  -  Matt Murdock 

Moon knight  -  Steven Grant

Joaqín Torres - Clint Barton

Loki Laufeyson  -  Druig

Eddie Brock  -  Miles Morales

Miguel O’hara  -  Hobie Brown

---

Harry Potter characters:

Sirius Black  -  Remus Lupin 

James Potter  -  Poly!Marauders

Lily potter  -  Cedric Diggory

George Weasley  -  Fred Weasley

Severus Snape  -  Tom Riddle

Draco Malfoy

---

Avatar (James Cameron) charachters:

neteyam  -  aonung  -  lo’ak

rotxo  -  kiri  -  spider

jake sully  -  neytiri  -  tsu’tey

tonowari  -  ronal  -  colonel quaritch

---

Top Gun chracters:

Fanboy  -  Hangman  -  Rooster  -  Bob

Iceman

---

Wednesday characters:

Xavier Thorpe  -  Ajax Petropolus

Wednesday Addams  -  Divina

---

Bridgerton characters:

Anthony Bridgerton  -  Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

---

Criminal Minds characters:

Spencer Reid  -  Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

---

The Last of Us characters:

Joel Miller  -  Ellie Williams

Abby Anderson

---

The Devil All The Time characters:

Tommy Matson  -  Lee Bodecker

---

Uncharted characters:

Nate Drake  -  Sam Drake

---

Euphoria characters:

Elliot (Euphoria)  -  Fezco

---

On My Block characters:

Mario Martinez  -  Oscar Diaz

---

Modern Family characters:

Luke Dunphy  -  Alex Dunphy

---

Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent  -  Jamie Tartt

---

NHL players:

Matthew Ktachuk  -  Trevor Zegras

Nolan Patrick  -  Tyler Seguin

---

Actors:

Sebastian Stan  -  Joseph Quinn

Jamie Campbell Bower  -  Danny Ramirez

Drew Starkey  -  Rudy Pankow

Ben Hardy  -  Bella Ramsey

Jenna Ortega

---

Miscellaneous characters:

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz  -  Marcus Baker

Rodrick Heffley  -  Hunter Sylvester

Lloyd Hansen  -  Ari Levinson

Nick Fowler  -  Tangerine

Rhett Abbott  -  Hayden ‘Harvard Hottie’

Colin (Not Okay)  -  Min Ho (Xo, Kitty)

Ash (No Exit)  -  James Maguire (Derry Girls)

Jake Peralta  -  Nick Miller  -  Brian O’conner

Anakin Skywalker  -  Bruno Madrigal

Tadashi Hamada  -  Kakashi Hatake

---

Miscellaneous real people:

Billie Eilish  -  AEW Hook

---

*Updated whenever there’s a new character <3

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Fall Drabbles, Day 3

prompt: scarecrow

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: When the new member of his town is struggling, Frank lends a hand.

warnings: swearing, once again adorable levels of fluff

a/n: When I tell y'all I am SO excited for this one. This is a Lumberjack!Frank Stardew Valley AU!!!! You do not need to be familiar with the game to enjoy this piece. Let me know if y'all want to see more in this AU!

w/c: <1k

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Frank let the ax head thud against the lush grass. Huffing a breath, he stretched his tense shoulders, trying to unravel the stubborn knots building across his upper back from the extensive physical labor. As he was about to lift the ax once more, a rustling in the clearing behind him gave him pause. 

Squinting, he made out a figure crouched by a stack of sticks across the meadow. After a moment, the person shifted towards him enough for him to identify you. 

He’d only spoken to you twice, if single word sentences and grunts could be considered speaking, but he knew a lot about you. The unfortunate effects of being a newcomer in a small rural town, he supposed, your entire existence became exciting local news. You were looking after Old Man Taylor’s run down cabin, he’d even heard whispers about you repairing the place to start a farm. 

Despite learning a majority about you from other people, you intrigued him. Everything about you was young, soft, sweet, not at all what he expected a new farmer to be considering the aging community he lived in. 

In the distance, you rifled through the pile of fallen branches at the base of the large oak tree, studying the group before selecting a few to add to your basket. Hands perched on your hips, you tilted your head before grasping the largest of the bunch, a split tree limb, and dragging it backwards. Frank bit back a laugh as your body lost the fight against the weight and resistance of the branch when you fell on your ass. Deciding to stop lurking and come to your aid, he called from across the clearing. “Was that the plan or did ya need some help?”

Whirling around, butt still planted on the mossy ground, you laughed when you spotted him. “Lord above, Frank, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Basking in the beautiful tone of your voice, he strode over to you, watching your beautifully unmarred hands brush dirt off of your overalls as you stood up. 

Heat flooded your face as you replayed his offer in your head. ”You saw my valiant attempt then...“ Biting your lip, you glanced up at him. 

Sucking in a breath, Frank was taken aback by the immediate effect your doe eyes had on him. ”Happens to the best of us.“ He shrugged, hoping that his face hadn't betrayed his desire to sweep you off your feet and carry you back to your place.

You scoffed, "Oh yeah? Hard to believe you given that you're so...” You trailed off, circling a hand in his general direction. 

The barest hint of a smirk graced his lips. “So what, sweetheart?” 

Huffing in embarrassment, you averted your eyes from his stunningly fit body. “Nothing.” You murmured. 

Eyes softening, Frank looked to you for approval. “Did ya want a hand with that?”

There were those magnificent doe eyes again. You nodded slowly. 

Grasping the fallen limb with one hand, Frank hefted it up with ease, setting it over a broad shoulder. “Where to, dollface?”

Smiling at the nickname, you answered shyly. “My cabin, if that's not too far for you.”

“Course not, since I'm so...” He imitated your comment from earlier and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what, tough guy!” You laughed, not finishing the empty threat. 

“What're you plannin' on doin' with this thing anyway? Clubbin' seals?” 

You looked at him, horrified, “No! Of course not! I would never--” You paused, then rolled your eyes. “That's a cruel joke, Frank. You had me thinking I'd made an awful impression.” 

Frank chuckled. ”Sorry, dollface.”

“You're forgiven.” You smiled sweetly. “And, since you asked SO nicely, I'm building a scarecrow.”

Brow furrowing, Frank's steps faltered, “A scarecrow?”

“Yeah, they're these little human-shaped statues that you put in the middle of your crops to scare the crows.” You explained, twinkle of jest in your eye as you smirked at him. 

“I know what they are, smart ass.” Frank snorted, “I meant why're you buildin' one?”

You shrugged, eyes falling to the ground, “I, uh, I planted some crops a few weeks ago and the birds got to them as soon as theey sprouted. Guess I'm not too good at this whole 'farming' thing, huh?” The chuckle that left your mouth was humorless and sad. Frank's heart twisted in response. 

“Hey now, you're tryin'. That's what matters.”

Giving an unsure smile, your lips twitched upwards. “Thanks, Frank.”

“Course, sweetheart. Did you want some help buildin' it?”

Tilting your head, your voice was laced with appreciative surprise, “You'd do that?” 

Nodding solemnly, Frank gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “In a heartbeat, dollface.” 

With a giggle, you took his free hand and pulled him all the way back to your house. 

A few hours, buckets of sweat, and a quick trip to Frank's place later, the two of you looked proudly at the tall, only slightly lopsided, scarecrow standing guard in your field.

Running a hand over the flannel shirt that composed the torso, a soft smile sprouted. “I hope you don't want this shirt back.“

Frank squeezed your shoulder. ”It looks better on him anyway.“

[bubuslutty]

pairing: lumberjack!frank castle x (mutant) vampire!fem reader

tags: mutants exist, (kinda) drug use and substance abuse (from someone else), no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, no descriptions of physical appearance, poc friendly, fluff, a bit of angst, smut

warning: mention of drug use, overdosing, drinking & orgies (warnings will be edited to fit every chapter)

summary: au where gruff lumberjack!Frank ends up with a runaway mutant vampire!gf, who's so much older than him and used to be a playboy bunny in the 90s.

Parts:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4 (coming soon)

Extra:

moodboard 1.0 & 2.0 link + picrew under the cut

☆ moodboard 1.0

☆ moodboard 2.0

☆ picrew

this is how I imagine MY Bambis. but Bambi can look like anyone. so u can have a bit of fun and make your own Bambi using the picrew linked above! ☆

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Do any of your au billy’s celebrate Christmas? Or do you think they would with a s/o. For some reason even though I’m not a huge holidays fan I love the idea that billy never really had it growing up and his s/o introduces him to all the traditions but I think a supernatural au would fit it even better

He probably had some small way of celebrating while growing up.

Maybe buying a specific snack only around Christmas time. He's never really received much gifts, and those small donations would have ended pretty early on in his life.

I think he'd be willing to try for an s/o, but if she doesn't, then it's okay.

But let's work with an s/o that does celebrate Christmas. With the assumption that they just moved in together, it's their first Christmas.

Billy notices subtle changes at first- the curtains go from his regular grey to maybe golds or reds. Maybe a santa cookie jar shows up the next day, and he doesn't mind, he loves how excited you look to show him.

One thing I don't think Billy's ever gotten to do is decorate a Christmas tree. He confesses this to you one night in bed, with eyes that never really meet yours. You don't make it a big deal, smiling and nodding and he's grateful.

"Let's go get a tree tomorrow." You suggest easily, and he nods, because what else can he do.

And you go, and maybe you get to see a Billy in all his lumberjack glory, because watching him swing an axe does something primal to you and the way his hair gets more and more dishevelled with each swing he takes and the proud smile he gives you when the tree falls and you want to give this man everything he's ever wanted.

(God you'd take him back to the car and ride him in the backseat with the tree on top shaking from your shared thrusts. It's insane because you're almost caught by a family and you have to do this awkward move from the backseat to the front seat to go home.)

At home, you have fun decorating it, showing him how to hang the lights and tinsel, and giving him the ornaments to hang on the higher parts of the tree where you can't reach. You offer him different Christmas drinks to try and he definitely rejects the traditional ones for a simple sangria. You both get tipsy as you decorate the tree, and he's giggling into your shoulder by the time it's time to put the star on the top.

He feels so loved, with the way you gently place the star topper into his hands, something beautiful and the way you smile at him when he puts it on the tree makes him feel... loved.

He definitely takes you below the tree on Christmas morning. That's your Christmas tradition, oral under the tree 😌

And when you give him a small present, he's very excited to open it. You get him something you can do together, because you can't buy him anything that he doesn't already have, and you spend the morning, playing games, or putting together a puzzle, just, spending time having fun.

You probably go to visit Frank and his family and exchange gifts with them. He looks adorable in his hat, and you happily sneak off for a romp in the bathroom with his hat still on his head in the Castle home and Frank and Maria give you knowing looks when you step back into the room.

At home afterwards, is basically just sex 😅 not gonna sugar coat it (like he's probably going to do to your body. Hehe)

Fuck. God. Sorry. Don't kill me. Ugh. What about a little Santa roleplay (just the hat and he's shirtless) where you sit on his lap and you ride his thigh while you tell him what you want for Christmas, but it's just things you want him to do to you.

Like: "I'd like to be spanked for Christmas, sir."

SORRY IF IT'S WEIRD 😂😂

He finally gets into it and buys mistletoe, except that he hangs it on the headboard and its just a constant stream of oral for the holidays.

Merry Christmas.

[twinklelilstarkey]

the fact that i haven't found an AU lumberjack!frank castle fic in my morning binge-reading is rude... our man (jon) doesn't have the perfect pics with longer hair, beard, and even plaid shirts for this to not exist... anyone, pls, i will die happy.