#matt murdock x frank castle

[chaos-and-ink]

Some cute kisses for my favourite boys

[yourchocolatenachostudent]

Matt and Frank: *just act as usual*

Me:

[youruncleolaf]

marvel had to give matt a girlfriend because they knew charlie and jon will continue making matt and frank argue gayly and they have to keep pushing that he’s straight

[dyslexiccheeseit]

Matt Murdock and Frank Castle need to kiss i think itd solve like 80% of their problems

[rowinablx]

They look like a married couple in therapy

[amhrosina]

when Frank is in charge of getting Matt's birthday cake

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Judex, Judicum, Infantem - Chapter 1

(Eventual) Reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

next chapter | series masterlist | my masterlist

gif by me

summary: Two pink lines stared back at you and began to blur in your vision as tears welled in your eyes. Shit. You think back on one of the possible encounters with Frank that could have resulted in this.

warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio) AFAB Reader. No use of Y/N. Mention of pregnancy. Unprotected P in V, Oral mention, aftercare. Pet names. Angst.

wc: 2,144

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on Tumblr to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platforms I currently post on are Tumblr and AO3. Thanks!*

The tile of the bathroom floor was cool against the back of your thighs as you sat there waiting. A welcome relief to how intensely it felt like your body was producing nervous sweat.

17 more seconds.

You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves. Your leg bounced up and down as you waited, feeling like the seconds dragging on were taking an eternity.

It was only a few days late. Okay maybe like a week. Or two. You’d lost count. But it was so unlikely.

You were just stressed, that’s all. There had to be an explanation.

Your birth control was 99% effective according to the doctor. And you had absolutely taken it every day. Right? Right. Maybe.

There couldn’t be any way.

You jolted at the sound of the timer on your phone and scrambled to silence it while also lunging for the little plastic stick balancing on the corner of the sink.

You held it with both hands in front of you.

Two pink lines stared back at you and began to blur in your vision as tears welled in your eyes.

Shit.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A few weeks earlier

The moan started in the back of your throat and died just as it escaped your lips, muffled by the scratchy fabric beneath you where your cheek was pressed into. The flesh of your rear was hiked in the air and reverberated with a slapping sound each time Frank thrust into you harshly over and over. His grasp was firm, each hand anchored to where your waist met your hips. Mindlessly pulling you back into his body in a counter to his rhythmic movements.

“Just one more sweetheart” he cooed “Just need to feel one more from you.”

Your knees ached and your hip joints were starting to lock up, but you didn’t even dream of tapping out, too lost in the bliss of Frank pulling so many orgasms out of you tonight, you’d lost count. How long you’d thought of having him in a moment like this. Felt the tension between the two of you rise and rise until the coil finally snapped. Now the two of you were like animals, freshly freed from their cages and ready to pounce on each other until you collapsed in exhaustion under the dingy florescent lights of the small office in the abandoned warehouse where he was currently squatting.

His accommodations weren't particularly comfortable — the cinder block office of an abandoned electric company facility wasn't what one would call homey. Nor was the utilitarian and practical way he had it arranged, with floor to ceiling shelves of canned food and ammunition. You also wanted to make some snappy comment about the mattress on the floor with no bed frame, covered in worn bedding matching the singular lumpy pillow your face was now buried into as he fucked you mercilessly. Would this man ever allow himself a single damn comfort? A fuzzy blanket or even a throw pillow or a mug that didn’t look like it was dug up from a time capsule from 1982?

A firm slap on your ass had you whimpering as you clutched at the sheets beneath you.

“Quit bein’ difficult baby.” he commanded

Baby.

Fuck, you shuddered at the mere sound of that word in his raspy, fucked out voice. It seemed almost unbelievable to you that you’d ever hear him call you that in this manner.

You weren’t trying to be difficult. It was just that you knew as soon as this was over, as soon as the two of you would lay there together in the afterglow, that things would change between the two of you and a conversation would need to happen. One you so desperately didn’t want because you knew where it would lead. You knew Frank would never allow himself the warm and fuzzy hallmark ending. So you held off on your orgasms as long as possible. Which wasn't easy to manage considering how psychically he was reading every ministration of your body.

Adjusting his position, his large paw of a hand came to rest on the back of your neck. Not with the pressure of a full on choke, but enough firmness to steer you as he please like the rudder of a boat. You felt the thump on the mattress as his foot anchored beside your aching leg. His new stance placed him on one knee, increasing his leverage and depth. He fucked into you as if he wasn’t just chasing your pleasure; it was as if he was trying to expel the demons of how he felt about you. Seeking with each punch of his tip against your cervix to rid himself of the guilt of whatever spark he allowed between the two of you to grow and grow until it turned into this.

The hand on your neck pulled your head upward so his other hand could reach around to press two of his thick digits between your lips, along your tongue, and down your throat.

That did it.

You groaned on his fingers as your cunt clenched around his cock. His feral roar rumbled from behind you a moment later as he spilled himself inside your still trembling walls. Just as the last of your heat’s spasms died down, you felt the comfort of his fingers leave your mouth and a trail of drool dribbled down your chin. With feather light precision, he replaced his controlling grip on your neck with his chapped lips and the bristle of his 5 o’clock shadow. He continued kissing down your spine. You let his journey guide you, lowering your body vertebrae by vertebrae until you were flat on your stomach, finally letting your muscles relax with a groan.

“Atta girl, baby.” he whispered, followed by one final kiss to the base of your lumbar.

There was that damn word again. Baby. Almost as if he…

I love you

The words wisped through your train of thought like a siren’s distant call.

Shut up, brain.

A satisfied hum escaped him as he flopped on the bed beside you. Cocky grin growing on his face, he rolled on his side and traced soft circles into the heated and sticky flesh of your arm.

“You good?” he inquired

You replied with a content mumble, watching as his soft eyes drank you in beside him.

“So good, Frankie.”

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t even realize he was verbalizing the thought out loud.

Your heart froze up at his words. He thought you were beautiful.

I love you.

The three words you so desperately wanted to say danced on the tip of your tongue in the spaces of silence between inhales and exhales, threatening to spill out of your lips and inevitably lead to what you dreaded.

The conversation.

Frank sensed the shift, clearing his throat as he rolled onto his back and all the way into a sitting position.

“Stay put. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You tried not to let him hear the sigh that pushed from your lungs as you rolled onto your back, a physical release of the words you knew you felt but didn’t dare say.

He returned a moment later, clad in black sweat pants that hung low on his hips, and carried a damp grey washcloth.

“Ew, do I wanna know where that’s been?” you asked as he tapped at your knee, indicating for you to open your legs

“Can you not have a fuckin’ mouth on you for once? Tryin' to take care of you.”

You shrugged and parted your legs so he could clean you up.

“If you were a little less eager earlier, you could have known exactly what my fucking mouth is good for.”

“Christ.” he mumble with a sigh and a shake of his head, meeting your eyes with a smirk on his face

You couldn’t help but grin in return, noticing the flush rising in his neck and knowing it was you that got him all flustered. It was your favorite thing to do to Frank.

Well, after tonight, your second favorite thing.

You scrunched your nose with a giggle as he ducked back down, ever the focused Marine on the mission before him.

The washcloth hit the concrete floor with a splat as he finished and tossed it aside.

No sooner had you relaxed into the comfort of the bedding beneath you, still hazy and coming down from your bliss, a soft fabric something landed on your face. The projectile carefully aimed in playful retaliation for your previous comment. You swiped it away and sat as he climbed back onto the mattress beside you.

The faded olive sweatshirt he tossed at you was clearly old; the worn Marine’s emblem on the left breast and the holes along the sleeve banding indicative of it’s history of threadbareness. Still, it smelled like Frank, all comfortable and warm and familiar. As you slipped it over your head, you realized it felt like him too.

Just as you’d gotten the garment situated just right on your body, you felt the gentle pull of his arm around you. Drawing you against his chest, he pressed a kiss into your hair. His embrace, much like his sweatshirt, was warm and comfortable.

It was still. Silent and content in the air surrounding the two of you and what had just transpired. Maybe you could be at peace with how things had just changed between the two of you.

And then at your eye level came his hand, fiddling with the gold ring he wore on a chain around his neck.

A reminder of why you couldn’t bring yourself to say the three words that had been echoing in your conscience all evening. Why if you dared speak them, you’d never hear him say them back. Even if it was what he truly felt. It would only break your heart more than he was about to.

The calmness you’d just been feeling whooshed out of you like a hot air balloon popping and deflating.

Neither of you spoke yet, but the clicking of his tongue let you know he was trying to find his words.

“Sweetheart… I…” he stumbled

“I know. I shouldn’t have…” you trailed off

“No, hey. It’s just—”

You cut him off.

“Your dead wife.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry.”

“It ain’t just that. Look,” he paused, still finding the line between expressing his feelings and not crushing you completely “the life I live, it ain’t... I mean I just can’t have someone waiting with the porch light on for me. You know?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Frank, when have you ever known me to be the type—”

“I know, I know. But, baby,”

Stop fucking calling me that.

“You’re just too damn good.”

“Oh don’t give me the ‘you’re too good for me’ spiel Frank. You’re better than that.”

“It ain’t a lie though.”

He sat upright, undoing the arm that was around you to fully face you.

The soft way he caressed your thigh and the earnest look in his eyes was almost enough to make you forgive him for whatever he was about to say.

“I had my shot you know? Had it all and I blew it. Can’t tell you how many times she begged me not to go back, but I thought I had time. Thought they’d always be there. I had to keep goin' back and back and then they got taken. Finally decided I wasn’t goin’ back and didn’t even get a day with them then they were just gone.”

You had to look away from his piercing brown eyes, or the tears would start flowing and you just couldn’t bare to let him see you cry. Not now. You’d never heard Frank speak so candidly about what happened to his family, always skirting around the topic as if he was trying not to fall into the mouth of a volcano.

“And now,” he continued “I’m just this now. I don’t know if I can go back to bein’…”

Normal. Happy. In love with someone who isn't her.

He licked at his lips as his words began to falter again, thoughts coming out choppy and all over the place.

“… and you deserve, you deserve someone who can give you that, you know?”

“I don’t want that.” you replied, finally finding some courage to meet his gaze again

“Bullshit.”

“You don’t get to decide for me what you think I should or shouldn’t want, Frank! God, you always think you’re right and it pisses me off.”

“Hey. Shhh.” he cooed, trying to pull you back into his arms again

But, you resisted.

“I should go.”

“No, no. Hey.”

His firm hand reached up, cradling your chin and turning your face to his.

“Stay? Just for tonight?”

Those goddamn brown eyes.

“Okay.” you contested

Maybe you could keep pretending this was real until the morning.

next chapter

TAG LIST: @xxdrixx @a-leg-without-fear @echo-ethe @capswife @xoxabs88xox @allmyn1ghts @laaadygisbooornex3 @ninacotte @uncertified-doc @moth-murdock @danzer8705 @endofthelinegang @buckyssugarchick @hellskitchenswhore

[lovelybucky1]

in light of recent events (my daredevil rewatch to prepare for born again) i will be opening my inbox for matt murdock, frank castle, and frank x matt headcanons and drabbles 😋😋😋

[sugashook]

doodle because rivals punisher

[yourchocolatenachostudent]

they are both broken and no one is able to fix them except each other

[chaos-and-ink]

Prompt: Injury

[kanashikute]

drifting like a ship out on the sea

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock

"Now you take me to bed and fuck me till I forget who I am," Matt replies, the words slipping from his lips like honey, warm and smooth. "Till all I feel is you. Till there's nothing else. Just us."

"Jesus," Frank breathes. He presses closer, so that his forehead rests against Red's. He swallows hard. "You can't say shit like that and not mean it."

"Really? Then... you can always say no, Frank." The words are like a punch to the gut. "No hard feelings. I'll be fine either way."

Frank wants to shake Red, scream at him until he stops this self-destructive shit. But this is how Red's always been—self-destructive as hell. And stubborn. Stubborn as fucking shit.

"But," Red adds, the edge of a smirk in his voice, "It's been a while since we've done this. I know I'm not the only one who's missed it. So, how about it, Frank? Wanna help a buddy out? Just like old times."

(Or, Frank thinks he knows a thing or two about grieving. It turns out, with Red, is never that simple.)

[dyslexiccheeseit]

So my friend sent me this post and my first immediate thought was "oh how fun Fratt (fukxing love the shipname) fanart" and then I looked at it again and fujcing JON BERNTHAL POSTED IT???? I don't even think it was intended to be gay like??? Please someone else has to see it right?? Like frank would not have colored clothes they're all muted colors why does he have that shirt, it's Matt's shirt I rest my case gay

Also sidenote I adore that his name on Instagram is Jonny I love jonnys they're the world to me (Johnny Cade my beloved)

[itwasthereaminuteago]

He laughs, the cocky fucker actually laughs as he gets the upper hand over Frank, almost knocking all the air from his lungs in shock as he shoves the bigger man hard up against the hallway wall.

The taste of those smirking lips is still riotously fresh on his own as Frank grabs a brief breath, his brain still trying to catch up and comprehend what was happening. The Devil of goddamn Hell's Kitchen is pushing him around, spreading him open, touching and feeling with ungloved hands and a hungry mouth and Frank is letting him, because- because...

"Red, Red..." Frank's strained voice is a surprise even to himself, the way it sounds so desperate in his confusion as the other man has fingers gripping firmly around his jaw as his tongue flicks up the side of his neck, following the line of Frank's jugular vein. He's never felt so weak.

Their bodies couldn't be any closer, even when they were kicking lumps out of each other before, Frank could never have imagined how welcome the pressure and friction of this particular pain in the ass of an altar boy could be. Frank hisses as Red shifts slightly to get his teeth involved, the thick crimson Kevlar of that perfectly fitting suit not preventing him from feeling the heat of his body through it. The Devil leans in, as if reading Frank's very thoughts, forcing his thick thigh between Frank's already spread legs.

"Fuck!" Frank grits out, and Red actually has the gall to shh-shh-shh him before raking the edge of his teeth along the skin of his neck. He can feel that wicked smile seeping into bones. Frank's head snaps back against the wall in submission, the only fight left in him is to make sure this is happening, to reach out his arms and not let him stop.

The broken light down the hall flickers, silhouetting the sharp, curved points of the helmet Red's still wearing. Frank grabs hold of it, he wants that taste again, he needs to feel that sure way Red slips his tongue against his like it's nothing, like there was never any line crossed, like it didn't matter if they couldn't go back to the way it was before.

💜 Pls reblog fics you like 💜

[wolfgirl-valentine]

Recently I remember the Avengers Academy mobile game, and how much I liked some of the designs, so I have these two.

Wishing I can draw better to make more of this two

[yourcoolstepdad23]

Matt: What are you in the mood for? Frank: World domination. Matt: That's a bit ambitious. Frank: You are my world. Matt: Aww… Frank: Matt: Frank: Matt: OH.