#punisher x y/n
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bubuslutty-reblog · 1 year ago
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fictober day eighteen - cockwarming, frank castle x reader
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warnings - 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, frank castle x afab!reader, smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very light somno vibes
word count - 579
fictober masterlist - masterlist 
twitter - ko-fi
got something to say? a request or concept? speak!!! 
a/n - sleepy groaning voice frank can be something so personal
You weren’t sure what confused you more; the fact that you couldn’t get to sleep or that Frank was able to sleep so easily. While you tossed and turned, Frank laid peacefully on his back, mouth open just enough for little snores to escape.
You tried every sleeping position, with and without blankets. What caused Frank to stir was when you rolled completely out of his touch. Your back was to him as he lifted his head, brows furrowed and vision blurry. 
With a grunt, he came from behind and wrapped around you tightly. “Baby.” He mumbled into your neck, his lips pressed to your skin. “Hi Frank.” He adjusted, pressing himself further into your skin. 
Oh, oh.
“Hey.” He whispered, a hand moving to the front of your waistband. “I need to feel you, sweetheart. Open up.” He tapped your thigh, making you spread yourself.
You weren’t feeling particularly sexy, wearing flannel pants and a shirt with a stretched neckline that used to belong to Frank. He didn’t mind, or maybe he did find it sexy. Either way, his hands were grazing your pants, over your clothed cunt. You wiggled against his palm, listening to him hum against your skin. 
He was already hard, you moved your hand around to feel him up. “Easy.” He grunted, wrapping his hand around your wrist. Slowly, he inched your pants down your legs, losing them somewhere in the covers. 
His fingers immediately found your cunt, quickly dipping into your heat and making you jump. “Pretty wet down here. Bet I could slip right in.” He spread his fingers inside of you. “What do you think, sweetheart?” Frank continued his assault on your pussy, waiting to hear something slip from your mouth. “Uh huh.” 
You waited as he pulled his boxers down, feeling his leaking cock brush against the skin of your ass. Slowly, Frank led himself to your hold and led his way through your folds. The stretch was like heaven, every inch of Frank was almost addicting. He listened to you cry out for him, wanting to cum right then and there just from your whines and the feeling of your walls pulsating around him. 
Once he bottomed out, you thought he was giving you time to adjust. But minutes dragged on, so your head swiveled around. Frank’s eyes were shut, his mouth opened just like it had when he was asleep. “Frank.” You wiggled against him, hearing the groan that fell from his lips. His hands held your hips in place. “Watch it. Just stay put, yeah?”
You frowned, trying to wiggle again but his grip kept you in place. “I said watch it. We’re gonna stay like this, let me just feel you.” He heard you grumble to yourself about nothing, taking the moment to press his fingers deeper into your skin. He figured they’d leave bruises, and he knew he’d kiss them away in the morning.
“Tomorrow I’ll fuck you just how you like it, m’kay?” He leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, the lotion you rubbed on after your shower. He loved the scent, always had, he swore he could’ve lived in your skin.
Eventually, you grew accustomed to Frank inside of you. It was calming, like a lullaby soothing you to sleep. Frank’s arms hugged you tighter, his fingers grazing your arm almost methodically. So you sank into the sleep you wanted so badly.
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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago
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teach me
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.
warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.3k
a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You’re being a dick.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”
“You’re still being a dick.”
“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”
It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.
Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 
But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.
“That was real cute.”
Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.
“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”
“That right?”
Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”
“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”
“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”
“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”
As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”
Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 
The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.
In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.
Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 
“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”
Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.
“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”
Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.
“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”
Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.
“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”
While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.
“Show me.”
Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 
“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”
Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.
“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”
Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.
“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”
Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.
“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.
“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”
Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 
Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.
Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Holy shit, that actually worked!”
Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.
“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”
Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.
“I have a gun.”
“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 
Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 
“Okay, step three.”
A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.
“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”
The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.
“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”
Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.
“Good. Show me.”
Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 
The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.
“Show me.”
“I’m not doing that-”
“It ain’t loaded-”
“Frank, I don’t want to-”
“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”
Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.
But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.
Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.
Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.
“Hey-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”
“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”
“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”
“And what if I can’t, Frank?”
The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 
But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.
Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.
“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”
The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.
“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”
Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.
“You are such an ass.”
The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”
Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.
“Lemme hear you say it.”
Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.
“No hesitating. I promise.”
“Attagirl. C’mere.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.
Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.
Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.
“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”
Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.
“I had a good teacher.”
“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”
“I thought I had terrible aim?”
“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.
“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”
Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”
Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.
The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.
“Frank-”
“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 
“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”
Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 
“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”
His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.
Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.
“Fuck…Frank…”
Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.
“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.
But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.
That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.
“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”
Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.
You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.
“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”
Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.
“You alright there, sweetheart?”
Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.
Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.
“If ya need a minute-”
“No. Now.”
While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.
“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”
A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.
“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”
The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.
“Got somethin’ better in mind.”
By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.
“Wait.”
Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”
Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 
“Huh?”
Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 
“What are you-holy shit.”
Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 
You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.
“Just relax.”
The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.
“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”
Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 
All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.
“C’mere.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 
“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”
“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 
Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.
“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”
This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.
Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.
Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 
“Frank-”
“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.
Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.
It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.
“Frank…I…I-”
Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 
Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.
The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.
As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.
“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”
Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.
“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.
“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”
“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”
When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 
How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?
Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.
What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-
“Quit it.”
The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 
“What?”
“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”
Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.
“How do you even-”
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”
Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”
Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 
“Hey Frank?”
“Hm?”
“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”
Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.
“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”
That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.
“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”
Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.
“How?”
“Hell if I know.”
Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.
“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No it don’t.”
“So…he’s-”
“An asshole. Go to sleep.”
Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.
“Frank!”
“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”
“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”
“I thought Billy was your only friend.”
Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.
“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”
Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.
“Hey!”
A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.
“I’m not done. I have more questions.”
“Course you do.”
“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”
While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.
“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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manicpixievixen · 4 months ago
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Having thoughts of girly/hyperfem/ or just in general bubbly personality reader with these super masculine guys
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Like this is so logan (also battinson, Dean winchester, etc)
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago
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hope you having a good day/night 💘
frank having a wet dream (i’m not a native speaker i’m not sure if it’s called this, i’m sorry) about reader and when it’s just about to endddd….reader wakes him up cos obviously he was grunting, sweating and moving a lot in his sleep so she thought he was having a nightmare and she’s worried about him…(my horny brain just died here so i’m leaving the rest of it to you)
a/n: this maaaaaaaannnn 🫠
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Frank? Baby, wake up,” your sprawled-out fingers gently swept over his broad shoulder, “it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare.”
On a sharp intake of oxygen, Frank stirred from his slumber. Blinking open his dark eyes to see you staring back at him, your cheek smooshed against your pillow, only a second passed before his touch slid up to the sides of your face as he longingly let his forehead melt against your own. 
“Wow,” you uttered softly as he crawled closer, “are you okay?” 
“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly before crashing his lips against yours. 
Out of pure surprise, a palm came up to press against his chest as you grasped the first sliver of a break to tilt your head back enough to search his eyes in the low moonlight, “Frank?”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone as his gaze all but ate you up. 
“Frank, you don’t have to act all tough around me, you know that–,” but the rest of your sentence fell from your lips as he rolled on top of you and the palpable tent in his boxers pressed against your thigh, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks, “not a nightmare, got it,” a small chuckle bubbled out of you, “I guess I’m sorry then for waking you up.”
“It’s alright,” he dipped down to press a kiss to your jaw, “dreams are fun and all,” his pecks slowly began to migrate further south, “but I’d much rather have the real deal,” holding onto the covers that draped over you both, he flashed you a small smirk before his head disappeared beneath it.
“Frank…” you let out a laugh as he moved down your body, caressing your curves before his head settled between your soft thighs, “was it about me?” you held the top of the duvet up for you to see him, “did you have a sex dream about me?”
Cocking his head, he said, “why do you sound so surprised?” and pressed a hot kiss to the very top of your inner thigh, “they’re always about you.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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Note
ee congrats. What about a blurb or headcanons, whichever u want i suppose, of fake dating with Frank Castle having to infiltrate something or another? ^_^
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Faking It.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - cursing. allusions to sex.
written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
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He’s got his hand on your ass.
Sure, the two of you are playing a couple, undercover in a Mr & Mrs Smith style mission. But surely there’s a thousand other places he could put his hand.
You look at him with a scowl on your face and he winks, all cheeky and boyish. Heat crawls its way up your skin, and you beg yourself to calm down. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.
When you enter the ballroom of the gala, it’s packed with people. Frank winds a hand around the back of your neck, steering you in the right direction. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
You’re laughing and playing fake niceties to an old couple at the bar. They’re telling you how beautifully in love you look, and all you can do is rest your head on Frank’s shoulder and sigh wistfully as they coo. He pulls you into him with a hand on your ass, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. He knows he’s riling you up. That’s why he’s doing it.
It’s becoming a game, now. Who can wind the other person up more.
Frank is sat on a fancy leather couch, sweet talking a middle aged woman in a long purple dress. You approach, and take the spot right on his lap, wiggling your hips to get comfortable. He hisses in your ear, fake smile still on his face, and the satisfaction you feel is unparalleled.
You’re out in the hallway coming up with a plan when two men walk past, eyeing you suspiciously. You do what any logical woman would do - smash your lips to Franks and hope he doesn’t question it. He kisses you back with much more passion than necessary, one hand around your neck and the other one on your stomach, pushing you backwards into the wall. You bite his lip as hard as you can and he groans, all deep and pretty, and you’re starting to think this plan has backfired massively.
“Damn, girl.”
“Had to think on my feet.”
“Don’t think your feet were the body part you were thinkin’ with.”
You punch his arm as hard as you can, laughing when he grabs it in pain.
“Let’s get that fucking info and get out of here. I’m sick of everyone telling me how handsome my husband is.”
“He is though, isn’t he?” he teases as he grabs your hand, walking back into the crowds of people unaware of your scheme.
Your fingers stay intertwined for the rest of the evening. He squeezes every now and again, once or twice, and you figure out the code pretty quickly. It’s a silent communication, and it works. In no time, you’ve got what you needed, slipping out of the front door and down the huge winding driveway.
You snatch your hand away, and smack his ass as hard as you physically can.
“What the fuck was that for?”
“Revenge. You grabbed my ass way more than necessary tonight.”
He laughs, and you hate the way it makes you smile.
“Good kiss, by the way.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re a good kisser. Even if you did draw blood.”
“I’m about to draw a lot fuckin’ more if you don’t shut up, Frank.”
He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Might suggest we play a couple every time we go undercover. This is kinda fun.”
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keekee-23 · 5 months ago
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Unspoken Desires
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A Y/N x Damian Priest Fanfiction
Warning: Smut
Summary: Damian Priest offers Y/N a place to stay during her house fumigation. She accidentally catches Damian in an intimate moment, leading to a passionate encounter that reveals their hidden feelings.
Y/N sighed as she locked the front door of her house, taking one last glance at the “Fumigation in Progress” sign staked in her front yard. She knew it was necessary, but the inconvenience of finding somewhere to stay for a few days wasn’t something she’d anticipated. Fortunately, her good friend Damian Priest had offered her a solution. He had invited her to stay at his place until the fumigation was complete. While she initially hesitated, his genuine concern and insistence had won her over.
The thought of being so close to Damian made her nervous, not because she feared for her safety—she knew he would protect her without a second thought—but because of the feelings she had been harboring for him, feelings she had kept hidden for far too long.
When she arrived at Damian’s place, she was struck by how comfortable and inviting it was. Damian’s home was a perfect reflection of him—modern, stylish, and undeniably masculine. The walls were adorned with a mixture of Batman, horror paraphilia and Asian inspired decor, and the furniture was sleek yet comfortable.
He greeted her with his usual charming smile, his tall, muscular frame leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Make yourself at home, Y/N,” Damian said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’m really glad you decided to stay here. It’ll be nice having some company.”
Y/N returned his smile, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “Thanks, Damian. I really appreciate you letting me crash here. I didn’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing at all,” he assured her, his dark eyes holding hers for a moment longer than usual. “I’m happy to have you here.”
The warmth in his voice made her stomach flutter. She had always been attracted to Damian—who wouldn’t be? He was tall, tatted, handsome, and had an effortless charisma that drew people to him. But there was more to him than his looks. He was kind, thoughtful, and had a way of making her feel special, even when she was just a friend in his orbit. And now, staying under his roof, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about her.
After Y/N settled in, Damian insisted on making dinner. He moved confidently around the kitchen, his strong hands expertly chopping vegetables and seasoning the meat. Y/N watched him from the kitchen island, admiring the way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he worked.
“You’re quite the chef,” Y/N remarked, trying to distract herself from the way her body was reacting to him.
Damian chuckled, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I like to cook. It helps me unwind after a long day. Plus, it’s a great way to impress guests.”
Y/N smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, consider me impressed.”
They ate together at the dining table, the atmosphere comfortable but with an undercurrent of tension that neither could ignore. They talked about everything and nothing— her job, his upcoming wrestling tours, their mutual friends, old memories—but there was something different about their conversation tonight. Damian seemed more attentive, his gaze lingering on her lips when she spoke, his hand brushing hers when he passed her the salt. Y/N felt the heat rise in her cheeks every time their eyes met.
After dinner, they moved to the living room. Damian poured them each a glass of wine, and they sat on the couch, the dim lighting creating an intimate ambiance. They continued talking, their conversation flowing easily, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, something that would change everything between them.
When it was finally time to call it a night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. The day had been surprisingly perfect, and the thought of it ending left her with a longing she couldn’t quite shake.
“Goodnight, Damian,” she said softly as he showed her to the guest room, the wine having left her feeling warm and slightly flushed.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something she couldn’t quite place. “Sleep well.”
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying every moment of the evening. It was as if something had shifted between them, something subtle but undeniable.
Y/N changed into her pajamas and slipped into the guest bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Her mind replayed the evening's events, the way Damian had looked at her, the subtle touches that sent shivers down her spine. Did he feel the same way she did? Or was she imagining things, letting her attraction to him cloud her judgment?
Sometime later, she woke up with the need to use the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as she padded down the hallway. On her way back to the guest room, something caught her attention. Damian’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a soft light spilled into the hallway.
Curiosity got the best of her, and Y/N found herself peeking through the crack in the door. What she saw made her heart stop.
Damian was lying on his bed, his shirt discarded on the floor, his muscular chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. One hand gripped the sheets beside him, while the other was wrapped around his length, moving with steady, deliberate strokes. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was witnessing. But what shocked her more than anything was hearing him moan her name, his voice thick with desire.
“Y/N…”
The sound of her name falling from his lips sent a shockwave of arousal through her body. She should have turned away, given him his privacy, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of him pleasuring himself, thinking of her.
She bit her lip, feeling a rush of heat between her thighs as she watched him. The sight of Damian in such an intimate moment, his face contorted in pleasure as he whispered her name, was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to go to him, to be the one to satisfy the desire he was feeling.
But just as she tried to back away, her foot accidentally bumped into a small table by the wall, the sound echoing loudly in the silent hallway. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat as Damian’s eyes snapped open and locked onto hers.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an excuse, anything to explain why she was standing there, watching him. But Damian’s expression was calm, almost amused, as if he had been expecting this all along.
Slowly, he sat up and adjusted himself. His movements were deliberate as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes were drawn to his body, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of being caught in such a compromising position. If anything, he looked pleased.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her brain was still trying to process what she had just seen, what she was still seeing. Damian’s eyes were dark with desire as he stood and slowly walked toward her, his movements predatory, like a panther stalking its prey.
Y/N’s body reacted before her mind could catch up, her heart pounding in her chest as he approached. She knew she should turn and run, retreat to the safety of the guest room, but she couldn’t move. The way he was looking at her, with such raw, unfiltered lust, made her knees weak.
When he was only a foot away, Damian reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he gazed down at her. His touch was warm, his thumb gently stroking her skin as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes.
“I didn’t expect you to see that,” he murmured, his voice sending vibrations through her body. “But I’m glad you did.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in his tone, something in the way he was looking at her, that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall. Her mind was racing, trying to process what was happening, but all she could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the way his breath ghosted over her skin.
“I… I didn’t mean to—” she started, but Damian cut her off with a soft shush.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. His touch was gentle, but there was a firmness to it that made her shiver. “How long I’ve imagined this?”
Y/N’s breath hitched. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but the sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, left no room for doubt. He wanted her—just as much as she wanted him.
“I’ve thought about you, too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it, but she didn’t care anymore. The truth was out, and there was no taking it back now.
Damian’s eyes darkened with desire, and before she could say another word, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.
The kiss was everything she had imagined it would be—intense, passionate, and filled with a longing that had been building between them for so long. Damian’s hands roamed her body, exploring every curve with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her toes curl.
He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers, and Y/N moaned softly into his mouth. She could feel the heat of his arousal through his boxers against her, and it only fueled her own desire. She wanted him—needed him—more than she had ever needed anyone.
Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her off the ground, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed. Y/N’s heart pounded with excitement as he laid her down gently, his body hovering over hers, every movement deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Me too,” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling with anticipation. She reached up, tracing the lines of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at the softness of his skin beneath her touch. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Damian.”
Her confession seemed to ignite something in him. With a low growl, Damian claimed her lips once more, the kiss searing and intense. His hands were everywhere, sliding beneath her shirt to push it up and over her head, discarding it carelessly to the floor. Y/N’s breath hitched as his hands moved to her bra, deftly unclasping it before tossing it aside. He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over her exposed chest, his eyes darkening with desire.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone, and lower still. Y/N’s breath hitched as he kissed his way down to her breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease one of her hardened nipples.
Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed as Damian gently took her nipple into his mouth, sending a surge of pleasure through her. The sensation was overwhelming, and she instinctively tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished her breasts with tender attention. His tongue teased and his lips caressed, each movement igniting a fire that spread through her entire body. Damian’s hands began to explore further, slipping under the waistband of her shorts with a deliberate, slow motion, smoothly tugging them down along with her panties, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
Once she was completely bare before him, Damian paused to drink in the sight of her. His eyes traced every curve, every inch of her exposed skin with an intensity that made Y/N’s heart race. The heat of his gaze made her skin tingle, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks under his thorough scrutiny. Yet, despite her initial shyness, the way he looked at her—with such raw, unfiltered admiration—made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
Y/N's thoughts blurred, lost in the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her. The earlier embarrassment she had felt was now a distant memory, drowned out by the overwhelming desire that consumed her. All she could focus on was Damian—how incredible his touch felt, how deeply she craved him. Every caress, every kiss was like a spark to the fire burning within her, intensifying her need for him with each passing moment.
Sensing the depth of her longing, Damian's lips began to travel lower, brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His hands followed, gentle yet firm, as they continued to explore her body. He paused briefly, lifting his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with desire and filled with a silent question. Y/N, breathless and unable to speak, simply nodded, her consent clear in the way her body responded to his touch.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Damian leaned down, his lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. Every movement, every touch, was filled with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by the moment.
Y/N bit her lip, a soft moan escaping her as his lips moved closer to the place where she needed him most. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with anticipation as Damian continued his exploration, his mouth leaving no inch of her untouched.
When his tongue finally flicked over her sensitive core, Y/N cried out, her hips lifting off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Damian’s grip on her tightened, holding her in place as he delved deeper, his tongue teasing and tasting her with a skill that made her head spin.
He worked her with a precision that spoke of experience, his movements deliberate and focused. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to drive her to the edge of ecstasy. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her body writhing beneath him as she lost herself in the sensation, her mind a blur of pleasure.
“Damian…” she gasped, her hands reaching for him, needing to feel him, to touch him.
Damian lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal as he crawled back up her body. He kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, and Y/N’s desire for him only intensified. She could feel him, hard and ready against her thigh, and she wanted him inside her, needed him more than anything she had ever needed before.
“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with the intensity of her longing.
Damian didn’t keep her waiting long. He quickly stripped away his boxers, revealing his tatted muscular body in all its glory. Y/N’s eyes roamed over him, taking in the sight of his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his chest and abs, the way his body seemed to radiate strength and power. And then there was the hard, thick length of him, standing proudly between his legs, a clear testament to his desire for her.
Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as her eyes locked onto his. Damian’s gaze was molten with need as he climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another heated kiss as he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her wetness.
Y/N moaned softly into his mouth, her hips bucking instinctively as she sought to bring him closer. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching for him, for the fulfillment she knew only he could provide.
Damian groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips as he slowly began to push inside her. He moved with a deliberate slowness, inch by agonizing inch, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious combination of pleasure and pressure that had Y/N gasping for breath.
When he was fully seated inside her, Damian paused, his forehead resting against hers as they both took a moment to savor the feeling of being so intimately connected. Y/N’s breath came in shallow pants as she adjusted to the size of him, her body stretching to accommodate him in a way that felt almost sinful.
“You feel so good,” Damian whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before slowly beginning to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with a smooth, controlled thrust.
Y/N moaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she gave herself over to the sensation. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as Damian took his time, building a slow, steady rhythm that left her trembling with need. He was relentless, driving into her with a precision that made her toes curl, each stroke sending waves of pleasure radiating out from her core.
“Damian,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his back as he increased the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of skin against skin, punctuated by the breathless moans and gasps that fell from her lips.
Damian shifted his angle slightly, his hips rolling in a way that hit just the right spot inside her, and Y/N cried out, her body arching off the bed as a powerful surge of pleasure washed over her. He was hitting all the right places, every thrust pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
Y/N’s world narrowed down to the feeling of Damian inside her, the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way he was driving her absolutely wild with every thrust. Her breath hitched as she felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in her lower belly, winding tighter and tighter with every movement.
Damian could sense her nearing the edge, and he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, as he sought to bring her to the peak of pleasure. His hand slid between their bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core and pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.
Y/N’s eyes flew open, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the pleasure exploded within her, a white-hot burst of ecstasy that had her entire body trembling. She clung to Damian, her nails digging into his back as her orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of intense pleasure rolling through her body. Y/N's moans filled the room, her voice raw and unrestrained as she gave herself over completely to the sensation.
Damian groaned in response, his own control fraying as he felt her walls tightening around him, pulsing with the force of her climax. The way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, was pushing him to the edge faster than he expected. But he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He wanted to make this moment last, to savor every second of being with her like this.
He slowed his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deep and measured as he rode out her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until she was left trembling and spent beneath him. Y/N's breath came in short, ragged gasps as the aftershocks of her release pulsed through her, her body still clinging to Damian's with a desperate need.
But Damian wasn’t done. He wasn’t satisfied with just one climax; he wanted to see her fall apart again, to hear her cry out his name as he took her to new heights of pleasure. With that thought in mind, he shifted his position slightly, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder to change the angle of his thrusts.
Y/N gasped as the new angle sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt another wave of arousal build within her. Damian’s movements were more controlled now, each thrust precise and deliberate as he pushed her closer and closer to another climax. His hand found her clit once more, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had her hips bucking against him, chasing after that delicious friction.
“Damian, please,” Y/N whimpered, her voice desperate as she felt herself teetering on the edge once again. She was so close, so achingly close, and the need to fall over that edge was almost unbearable.
Damian’s eyes darkened at her plea, a growl rumbling in his chest as he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into her with a renewed intensity. He could feel his own release building, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every thrust. But he held back, determined to bring her to the brink first.
“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Come for me again, baby. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”
His words were like a trigger, pushing her over the edge with a force that took her breath away. Y/N’s body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm slammed into her, even more powerful than the first. Her vision blurred, and she cried out his name, her voice hoarse and trembling with the intensity of her release.
The sight of her coming undone beneath him, the feel of her tight, pulsing walls around him, was Damian’s undoing. With a guttural moan, he finally let go, his hips snapping against hers as he buried himself deep inside her, his release hitting him with a force that left him trembling. He groaned her name, his voice rough and low as he spilled into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.
For a moment, they were both still, their bodies locked together as they rode out the last waves of their release. Y/N’s breath came in soft, ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Damian remained above her, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up, his breath hot against her neck.
Finally, when their breathing began to slow and the room grew quiet once more, Damian gently pulled out of her, collapsing onto the bed beside her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they both basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Y/N snuggled into his chest, her body still humming with the remnants of pleasure as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.
They lay like that for a long time, neither of them wanting to break the comfortable silence that had settled over them. Damian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her back, his touch soothing and tender, as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling her skin against his.
Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself relax completely in his embrace. She had never felt so at peace, so completely satisfied, as she did in that moment. Everything felt right, as if this was exactly where she was meant to be.
“I’m glad you stayed,” Damian murmured after a while, his voice soft and filled with contentment. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair.
“Me too,” Y/N replied, her voice equally soft as she nuzzled closer to him. She knew that things would be different between them now, that their relationship had shifted in a way that couldn’t be undone. But she wasn’t afraid of that change. In fact, she welcomed it.
There was no need for words in that moment. They both knew what had happened, and they both knew that it was the start of something new, something beautiful. And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.
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majestyeverlasting · 4 months ago
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞
Pairing Frank Castle x Reader [friends → lovers] 
Summary A fresh start with no more loose ends—that’s what you promised yourselves. But when a quick outing stretches longer than expected, dread creeps in and reveals how deeply you care for Frank when he’s finally back by your side [3.7k] 
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A/N First time writing for Frank. Deeply appreciate Jon Bernthal’s embodiment of the character ♡
The rain hasn’t stopped by the time the van eases into the parking lot, where the water on the ground reflects the cherry-red motel sign shining against the night. It makes no difference to you—lips parted, head tilted against the passenger side window—until Frank gears into park and taps your thigh with two thick fingers. 
Your eyes flutter open to tiny droplets pattering on the outside of the cool glass. That’s when you notice how still the world has grown. No more potholes, smooth turns, or periodic swells of acceleration to pass other cars who thought they had all the time in the world. 
After cutting the engine, he runs a heavy hand down his face and tips his head back, disheveling the back of his dark hair against the headrest. It’s gotten longer. So has the coarser hair of his beard. He never asked for your opinion, nor had you mustered the courage to give it, but the look suited him, as if it was innately right. As he briefly closes his eyes, he misses the way you turn to study his profile, noting how the bridge of his nose catches the glow of the lights outside.
A satisfied hum escapes you as you stretch out your legs, drawing his attention back your way. He blinks observantly, eyebrows set in that eternal furrow that makes him hard to read. But you know he’s alright—content. There’s no other reason not to be. A couple hundred miles ago, he’d tied off one final loose end, and the world went silent for the first time in a while. It was over. No more living ghosts breathing down your necks. You and Pete Castiglione were free to start a new life, be whoever you wanted to be. That’s what you told yourselves. 
Clearing his throat, Frank shifts in his seat and reaches into the cup holder, tossing the room key into your lap. “Room 103. There’s two queens,” he tells you. “I’ll grab the bags.” The finality in his tone suggests he won’t entertain any alterations to the plan.   
You reach down to grab your crossbody. “Can I get this one, or is it too much?” You’re trying to be funny. He waves you off, mumbling under his breath, but there’s an undeniable flutter in his gut when you smile at him before hopping out of the van. 
He purses his lips when you break into an amusing little jog, eager to escape the rain and key into the room. A muted yellow fills the space as you flip on the lights. No sooner does he watch you peek through the curtains like a groundhog popping up from its burrow. It’s hard to make him out, but you swear you can see him chuckling from behind the windshield. 
It’s impressive how he manages to carry both your belongings in one trip. He hums in appreciation as you hold the door open for him. Rather than dumping everything in the main walkway, he trudges the extra few steps to where more space opens up, and a small bench rests beneath the full length mirror hanging on the wall. 
The air is thick, as it always seems to be at motels, but the citrus undertones suggest recent cleaning. You stake your claim on the bed closest to the bathroom, ready to settle in. The wrapper of a meal bar crinkles as you dig it out from your purse. 
Frank’s own mattress squeaks as he plops down onto the foot of the bed and lays back, tucking his hands behind his head. The movement makes the hem of his hoodie rise up just enough to reveal the light trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button. It’s not the most comfortable bed in the world, but you’d be back on the road in the morning headed for central Virginia. 
A modest house in the Blue Ridge Mountains awaited, courtesy of one of his buddies who lived further north in Quantico. Of all the other options, it seemed like a promising place to find your footing away from the endless bustle of New York City. 
“Frank?” He looks over at you. “Thanks.” For everything, you want to add. 
“No worries,” he says. A few moments pass of the rain slowing down outside. It’s a lulling sound that masks the quiet gurgle of your stomach. 
Eyes closed, Frank hears you begin to peel open the bar you’re holding. It’s one of the protein-packed ones that are supposed to taste like chocolate, but always end up too chalky. It’d been a while since the late lunch the two of you had. 
“I’ll go get you something hot.” He sits up. “Passed a few places coming in.” 
You can see how drained he is from driving. It’s in his voice, the slump of his shoulders. “This’ll tie me over for the night,” you insist.
He looks at you with partial belief. Frank was the type who could get caught up in the task at hand and go without eating, if it wasn’t for your reminders. Earlier, he’d brushed over his hunger, only to sit down across from you in that cramped diner booth and inhale his hamburger and fries as you watched with amusement sparkling in your eyes. That look often spurred him into a spiel about how he could get by on a handful of nuts every few hours if he really wanted. 
But there was no such talk this time around. The food was good and hearty, and he enjoyed sitting down and sharing a meal without having to look over his shoulder. There was also something special about the way the sunlight streaming through the windows caught your eyes. 
“Really, Frank. It’s been a long day,” you say as he stands and makes his way to the door. There was no stopping him when he made up his mind. “I can come with you.” That earns you a disapproving look, and you sigh your defeat. “Drive safe, okay?” 
“Yep.” 
The rain subsides shortly after he slips out the door. To avoid the risk of falling asleep, you decide to take a shower, considering yourself lucky that the warm water doesn’t run out after the first five minutes.
By the time you dry off, moisturize, and change into old pajamas, Frank hasn’t returned. When you peek out the window at the sound of an engine, it ends up being construction workers. Despite how much you try to will it away, a familiar sense of dread settles in your gut. It only roots deeper upon realizing that he’d left his BlackBerry behind on the bed. 
Time continues passing by. 
•••
Red and blue police lights appear blazing in the distance in a showy glow. Frank watches from the inside of a family-owned pizzeria, where beautiful candid pictures adorn the walls. The air is rich with the scent of parmesan and garlic, but his face is fixed in a scowl. There’s bruising beginning to develop on the apple of one cheek, and a thin bleeding slash on the other. A few chairs are overturned while tables are askew. 
Under different circumstances, maybe in a different life, he would’ve been able to appreciate the homey charm of the place without trouble finding a way to fall at his feet. The universe had deemed him as the only alter fit to handle it. 
The woman behind the counter, stout with a long ponytail, nearly collapses in relief as the wailing sirens draw nearer. Frank’s jaw ticks in irritation at the whole ordeal. Other customers who were once inside have either left or are now standing watch from the parking lot. 
Frank turns to look down at the two young men sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. The masks have been ripped down from their faces, and it’s clear they’ve been roughed up. Despite feeling Frank’s gaze, they refuse to meet it. 
Off to side stands another employee who’s around the same age as the men on the ground. He’s holding a wad of napkins to his bloody nose and can’t keep his eyes from flitting to Frank with reverence and gratitude.  
“Hey,” Frank barks to the seated men. “When they bust up in here, you don’t run, you hear me? Cause I’m gonna be out there and you won’t even make it to the next lot over,” he says. “If you wanna come in here and be tough guys while your buddy’s trying to make a living and do better for himself, then you own it.” 
Their nostrils flare in frustration, but they don’t dare open their mouths. He can see the misplaced anger of his own youth coursing through them. 
“Whatever’s going on between you…you talk it out, yeah?” He looks between all of them. “One bad decision, and your folks will be crying and snotting in a courtroom while some guy with a gavel calls the shots.” 
As the police cars turn into the parking lot, Frank walks over to a table and picks up the carry out bag of food he’d ordered. 
“How do I get outta here?” 
Both the long-haired woman and the young employee point to the back hallway where the bathrooms are, watching him disappear as if he were never there at all. 
Frank makes it to his van as the police enter the pizzeria. In the rearview mirror, he can see the two men standing from the ground with their heads hanging low. Sighing, he pats down his pockets for his phone with the intent to call you. Nothing. All he can do is curse under his breath and start up the engine. 
The No Vacancy sign is switched on when he makes it back. He sees you staring out the window, but you slink back into the room as if the sight of his return was all you needed. A mix of guilt and frustration stir in his chest when you don’t let him in. He has to dig out the key and do it himself with his free hand, the carry out bag crinkling with his efforts. When he slips in and shuts the door behind himself, you’re standing a few yards away. There’s a palpable intensity as you study the afflictions on his face. 
Your body wants to fuss over him and push him away all at once—for leaving his phone, for scaring you, for coming back looking like he’d sought out yet another fight. Most of all, you feel foolish for believing that there was ever a chance at normalcy. There was no rewriting the curse that all the trouble in the world fell at Frank Castle’s feet so he could set things right. 
Unlike eight months ago, when you thought he was bad news, you can’t imagine losing him. You wouldn’t survive it. That magnitude of that fear cloaks itself in anger and puts a target on him when it’s the last thing he deserves. 
“What the hell, Frank? You can’t be serious right now.” 
Your piercing gaze is muddled with a myriad of emotions, and he can see them all. He stops the knee-jerk reaction that almost makes him raise his voice and go on about how he didn’t ask for anything that transpired within the past hour. How happenstance wasn’t within his control. How the whole idea of the two people like you finding a sense of normality was probably closer to a fairytale. 
He doesn’t get into it because he loves you. Even though neither of you have ever said it aloud. It was an unspoken truth, written between the lines of the fact that you worked each other’s nerves, but knew how to sooth them even more. Chasing after a fairytale would be worth it with you. 
“Let’s just eat, yeah? Can we do that?” 
He brushes past you to put the food on the small table. You track his movements, watching as he takes out a few small boxes. There’s wings, garlic knots, mozzarella sticks—a variety so you can take your pick and get your fill. It was never really too late for pizza, but he knew you would complain about the layers of cheese grease so close to bedtime. You’re not even sure you have an appetite anymore, but he motions for you to come sit and you can’t say no. Your eyes follow him as he goes to wash his hands, wishing you had it in you to scream. 
There’s only two chairs and your knees knock beneath the table when he sits down. As you nibble on a garlic knot, you stare at the dried blood on his cheek and the forming bruise. 
“Please tell me what happened.” Your tone is lighter than before.
Frank squints briefly then wrinkles his nose, gears turning in his head. Similar to when he walks into a new room, his gaze tracks around different points of your face, as if he’s trying to piece together what he wants to say as he assesses where you are. His thoughts are always written in his expressions even if they aren’t entirely clear. 
“It was nothing,” he says. 
“Nothing, Frank?” 
Nine times out of ten, him coming back to base camp bearing signs of a fight meant that he’d either taken care of everything or it was time to bounce—no in between. There’s no urgency that suggests the latter, so he must be telling the truth. The events of the night have pissed him off more than anything, like a side quest he couldn’t avoid. As much as he dreaded playing it over in his head for the sake of relaying it back to you, he can see that you need it. 
“Alright, look.” Frank waits for your attentive nod to continue. 
“It was a couple of kids. Came in all loud, making a scene,” he starts. “Long story short, they gang up on their buddy who works there.” Your eyes drift to his lips as he talks, watching the way he wets them every so often. “Everybody starts freaking out, some suit who looks like Mayor LaGaurdia calls the cops.” 
He shakes his head like it was all a big mess. “And I’m not about to sit there and watch this kid get the snot beat outta him, so I get up and do somethin’ about it.” The righteous indignation in his tone stirs an admiration within you. He notices the shift in the way you’re looking at him. 
“What?” 
You shake your head and bite your lower lip. “So you broke them apart?”
He nods. “One of ‘em got a lick in, pulled out a pocket knife,” he says. “Then I shook both their asses up and made ‘em sit ‘til the cops came.” 
“You pulled your punches.” 
“I pulled my punches,” he confirms.
This wasn’t the story you were expecting, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless. Frank breaking up fights and setting kids straight was something you could live with—better than dealing with crime rings, crooked feds, and personal vendettas. 
A wave of rowdy laughter soon erupts from somewhere in the distance. When you look down, you realize the two of you have made your way through more of the food than you were expecting. Frank wipes his hands off with a napkin and leans back in his chair, watching as you do the same. 
The silence is intimate. Frank’s knees are still pressed against yours. He looks like he wants to say one thing but changes his mind to another at the last minute. “I’m gonna go grab a shower, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” you mimic the quick, New York way he always clips the word onto the end of his sentences.  
He’s never minded your teasing. Every time he thinks he’s gotten away with masking his amusement, you always catch a tell that gives him away. This time, it’s the twitch of his nose as he stands up to throw his stuff away. You file it away in your memory. 
“Hey, Frank?” He looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was scared.” 
“I know.” 
Later, the lights around the mirror provide a Hollywood-esque glow as you stand at the sink brushing your teeth, one hand braced on the counter. The rest of the bathroom is sectioned off behind a door, so you feel the lingering steam from Frank's shower as he steps out in his sleep clothes, drying off his hair. The air smells like the complimentary soap, light and fresh. You absentmindedly shift to make room for him as he drapes the towel around his neck and leans close to the mirror to assess his face. 
Now that the blood is gone, the cut looks less imposing. Unphased that you’re bumping shoulders, he reaches for his own toothbrush. 
You’ve never paid any mind to how heavy-handed he is while he brushes, but it stands out now that you’re right beside him sharing the same sink. Perhaps it only appears that way, but you force yourself to bite back a teasing comment as you move on to floss. Frank just stares at you in the mirror with a soft, tired look in his eyes that makes your insides feel all fluttery. You’re sure he’s not even aware he’s doing it—or maybe he knows perfectly well. 
After he’s ditched the towel and the two of you are making your way to your respective beds, you bring a halt to his movements by wrapping your arms around him. It’s an awkward angle at first because you come at him partially from the side, partially from behind. But he adjusts himself so that your chests are pressed together as he wraps an arm around you—just the one initially, taken aback by your embrace. 
“Okay. Oh, boy,” he chuckles in that low way of his that playfully denotes trouble. 
You’re not sure why you made the move. As he adds his other arm, it occurs to you that there are too many motivations for there to be just one. Affection seldom looks like this between the two of you—maybe once every blue moon during notable partings or close calls. The seamless way you melt into him says otherwise. It’s as if relishing his warmth and the steady constant of his frame was all you were made for. The possibility doesn’t even offend you. You keep holding him and he keeps holding you. 
“You okay?” he asks after a while, smoothing his wide palm up your back. 
You nod before slowly pulling away. “Sorry, I’m just…” You touch a gentle finger to the center of his chest as he looks at you with that familiar furrow between his brows. “Glad you’re back.” Glad he’s still alive.
“Where else would I be, huh?” He taps your chin with his knuckle. “I walk out any door without you, best believe I’m making it back some way somehow.” 
You nod because you don’t trust your voice anymore.  
He gives your chin another affectionate tap. “Alright then. Bedtime.”
•••
A small sliver of light slips in through the slit in the curtains, casting itself onto the lower portion of Frank’s bed right over his feet. Even after staring at it for what feels like forever, you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes and surrender to the grasp of sleep. Yet the steady rise and fall of Frank’s chest continues on like some sort of miracle. You wish you were close enough to feel it for yourself, and when that pull doesn’t go away, you push the covers off and tiptoe over to his bed amid the dark.  
When the other side of his mattress dips, he thinks it’s one of those half-waking dreams until your leg brushes against his in your attempt to join him beneath the sheets. He immediately shifts to accommodate you, tugging more covers over to your side even though there’s already plenty. As he moves, you can smell the familiar scent of his skin and feel the weight of his proximity. 
“Thought you were—thought I was dreaming,” he rasps. 
With the way your heart has begun hammering in your ears, you’re surprised you can hear him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, you’re okay, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but not from tiredness this time. 
Both of you remain still after you’ve settled, scared that moving would shatter this sweet reality that had been woven together by fate. The warmth of his body calls out to you, but you don’t indulge even though you want to. That hesitation doesn’t last long. The moment he reaches out, you press yourself back against his chest. He lets his hand come to rest over your stomach as he tucks his nose into your head, breathing you in. When you relax further into him, his fingertips venture just beneath the hem of your shirt to grace the soft skin above your waistline. The gesture is achingly chaste. The two of you fall asleep just like that. 
Morning seems to come soon, sunlight spilling into the room around the closed curtains. The light is tender in the way it bathes the charming color palette of the room. Frank’s eyes flutter open to find that neither of you had shifted much during the night. You're further away, but his arm remains draped over your middle. He doesn’t know that you're awake—that you’ve been awake. 
The first thing your gaze fell on was the alarm clock nearing nine o’ clock. You’d slept in way longer than usual, especially for what was meant to be another day on the road. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 
It isn’t until Frank withdraws his arm that you finally allow yourself to shift. The sheets rustle in a tell-tale sign that he’s stretching, and you roll over in time to see him on his back with his arms extended, knuckles brushing against the headboard. You scoot closer, resting a hand on his chest after he lowers his arms and tucks the one furthest from you behind his head, bicep flexing. 
Neither of you say anything, but there’s a quiet sense of acknowledgement—of seeing and being seen. With a lone finger, you draw lazy shapes over his pecs through the fabric of his shirt as he slowly blinks down at your hand. And as Frank turns to press a kiss to your forehead, he reckons he could get used to mornings like these.  
-
♡ Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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sheepmc · 9 months ago
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Sugar Daddy Neuvillette spoiling you whenever you accomplish whatever it is goal you set out for yourself
Sugar Daddy Neuvillette bringing you to his office to spend time together when he's unable to go out
Surprising Sugar Daddy Neuvillette with some lingerie you bought after your shopping spree today
Watching Sugar Daddy Neuvillette's eyes dilute with want as he slowly strides towards you loosing his tie
Sugar Daddy Neuvillette pinning you to the wall kissing his way up and down your neck whispering dirty praises that has you clenching your thighs together
Sugar Daddy Neuvillette watching and hearing how your sopping wet pussy takes his fingers in knuckles deep
Sugar Daddy Neuvillette will sometimes fuck you in the changing rooms of high end store after having enough of you teasing him with every outfit you try on
Sugar Daddy Neuvillette will make you cockwarm him in his office as he does paperwork and if you decide to grind, rock or clench around him he'll retaliate by pinching your clit and with a husky growl of his voice say
"Behave or you won't get to cum until we get home"
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bradshawsvinyl · 26 days ago
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Texts with Frank Castle x Girly!Reader
Girly!Reader masterlist here.
Part II
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a/n: this is my first time doing something like this so if it sucks sorry lol also send any frank requests!!!!
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mrkeatingsblazer · 9 months ago
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The Prophecy [Oh, Was It Punishment?] Part One
Apollo x Child of Hermes! Reader
Part one Part Two
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“No man of mortal blood could ever love you.”
It rings in your ears; the words of Eros haunting you till this day. It was no major exposure like that of Nico’s, who was forced to come out to both Jason and you to appease the love God, but still; you felt as though the ugly truth of your soul was revealed to the two boys and you recall that you never liked surprises. Even though the sentence rushes and pillages through your mind like a crazed wave, you’re strangely enough soothed by it. To know that every worry and concern of your ability to be loved was not from any fault of your own but rather the weaving of the fates comforts you to the point of sighing in relief. It’s not you but what was forced of you, a true demi-god faith if you do say so yourself.
You have never been a stranger to a prophecy, being a big aid to Percy during the war against Kronos and your half-brother, Luke, and being a member of The Eight, destined to defeat Mother Earth herself, Gaia. As much as you despise prophecies you can’t help understand the glory of the previous ones you’ve been a part of. Sure, a couple friends and families die but at least you get the title of Hero of Olympus, am I right? This prophecy [is it even a prophecy or just a God's way of giving a diss] is just downright depressing. Almost as depressing as when your Godly parent was revealed.
At 15 years old, after defeating Atlas and rescuing both Lady Artemis and Annabeth, you stood as an unclaimed child watching as the Gods debated if you should all just be killed. It was only when Artemis was asking you, along with Thalia and Annabeth, to join her hunt did anyone question parentage.
“And you [name], who has not been claimed by God or Goddess alike, allow me to claim you as my own and join as a member of my hunt,” Artemis spoke with such kindness, almost reminiscent of a mother. You shook your head at that thought; she was definitely more like a big sister. Before you could even begin to respond to the Goddess, Zeus raised his hand into the air.
“The child's parent should be given the chance to claim her,” he declared with an air of authority, “before any decisions are made.”
“She is 15 solstices of age, has that not been enough time for the child's parent to claim,” Artemis rebukes with narrowed eyes only to be met with the same expression from her father.
“You first take my daughter, whom I allowed to be given,“ you heard Thalia scoff from beside you, “and now you fight against my order, purposely trying to disobey me in public.” His voice comes out icy and dangerous.
“father -” Apollo nervously begins from the throne beside his sister.
“Quiet Apollon!” Zeus demands. “If any one here owns the child speak now.”
The zoom grows silent, you watch as the Gods’ and Goddess’, interested or not, scanned the zoom waiting for someone to pipe in. Tears built up in your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat, you didn’t even have time to process or even blush when Percy slid his hand into yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.
Your eyes landed on Apollo, to his concerned frown and his perfectly furrowed eyebrow. You recall meeting him barely weeks before now, finding him alluring and bubbly as he chatted with you during the ride on his Sun Chariot. When we got to camp, you remember him engaging with his children in envy. He swung them around and messed with their hair, conversing with them with questions about their hobbies while also never failing to make them all laugh and feel included. You always kind of hoped he was your father ever since you found out you were a demi-god. You sloppily used a bow for a month straight before giving it up; everyone knew Apollo always claimed his kids a month into them being at camp. That didn’t stop you from hoping, from writing poetry and sending offerings to him every meal. Even now you hope he says something, eagerly looking at him like a moth to a light.
“She’s one of mine.” Everyone turned towards the direction of the voice, to Hermes who looked as though claiming you was the last thing he wanted to do that day. It made sense, really, and made you feel stupid for not realizing sooner. Grover always said you were a built in lie detector and you ran faster then anyone in camp, probably anyone in the world. You look up hopefully above your head to nothing; he didn’t even use his sign.
“So,” Artemis said, bringing back the attention to herself, “knowing now the God who conceived you, do you accept my offer to join my hunt?”
All eyes were on you, the deities’ large and looming forms leaned closer as if to hear your answer better even though they had perfect hearing. You once again looked, from Lady Artemis, to Lord Zeus, Lord Apollo and back to your father, Hermes. You caught a hint of interest in his deep brown eyes and sadly, that was all you needed.
“I appreciate your offer, my Lady, but I must decline.” you hear sighs from your friends beside you. Percy once again squeezed your hand, sending you one of his charming smiles that made your stomach weak. Hermes seemed quite happy with himself at your decision, as if he wasn’t forced to claim you moments prior, while Lady Artemis gracefully nodded in acceptance and that was it. There was no pulling you aside to talk with your father or even a look as far as you were aware. He partied into the night during the biggest moment of your life.
That memory fades from your mind, the lavish party of Olympus merging into the end of war celebration at Camp Half-Blood. Just like the former, you had no energy to join in with the festivities. With Leo dead there didn’t seem like there was much point to, the rest of The Eight agreed. From across the haggard bench you sat on, you watched as the sun set down upon the camp. It was poetically finite but still you had a stabbing feeling that this wasn’t finished, you weren’t finished.
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tempobaekh · 2 months ago
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Short N’ Sweet
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pairings: frank castle x fem!reader
warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned
a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me
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Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.
Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.
Or maybe more like knock his pants off.
Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.
You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.
With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him
He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.
A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.
“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”
“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.
Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.
When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”
Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.
You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.
“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.
Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.
"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”
"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.
"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”
You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”
His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”
“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”
“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”
You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."
He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"
You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”
That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."
When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.
Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”
“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.
As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.
The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.
Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."
You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"
"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.
The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.
“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”
You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.
"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."
His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.
He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”
"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.
Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.
And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.
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Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months ago
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FRANK CASTLE day 8 (15, oct) — period sex
18+ fem!reader, 706 words. mdni!!
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚。𖦹.
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Frank’s cock rests heavy on your lower stomach, the weight of him very noticeable through his jeans. The motion of his hips is near non-existent, the subtle grind-like movement simply a way to ease some of the frustrations — alleviate the aches within you both. 
His lips graze roughly over yours, a hand clasped tight to yours above your head, his hold keeping you pinned to the pillow. His other is placed under your chin, thumb and fingers gently dimpling your cheeks.
And with your spare hand, you’re running it eagerly down his bare spine, fingers slinking into the back of his jeans, desperately trying to get him out of them. Your hips roll on instinct, the need for him far more intense on your period.
“What’s all the rush?” he murmurs against your lips, the question almost rhetorical. 
The query felt like a tease, his ask only amplifying those frustrations you struggled to contain. All you could muster in response is a whiney, breathy sound, the noise muffling in his mouth. 
“Come on,” you urge with a whisper, thighs clamping together. 
As he parts, he presses a quick, faint kiss to the tip of your nose, simultaneously letting go of his dual hold on your hand and face. He shifts his weight, peeling from his hover-like position to a kneeled one between your legs — hands resting over the inners of your thighs to keep him ‘balanced.’
He draws slow, easy circles over your skin, rough fingers tracing the goosebumps with his eyes locked down on yours. Gaze remains on you as he slips a hand down the front of his jeans, his sole visual focus obtained by you as he gives his cock a quick palm over.
You adjust the old towel under your ass, straightening the worn-out, ratty fabric while Frank preps himself — unbuttoning his jeans to pull his dick out over the top. He strokes over himself briskly as he adjusts his position, itching closer to your bare cunt ahead. 
He places his spare hand on your hip, large manish fingers pawing carefully at your sore and tender skin, trying his best to soothe the other aches in your body.
“Gon’ get messy, sweetheart,” he husks, eyes focused on his cock in hand. 
His head bumps up against you, the mere, slight contact you urgently craved makes you shudder — a slight jolt in your stomach immediately catching Frank’s attention. His eyes flash up to yours, silently checking you over with that signature query-like glance. 
You’re quick to dismiss any worry, brushing off his look with an eager nod. And only when he knows you’re okay, he’s feeding his cock into you, thumb resting over his shaft to control the movement. He ever so slowly dips into you, pushing himself fully inside until his balls are pressing up against your lips — cock filling you up entirely. 
He keeps his eyes on your cunt as he pulls out, seeing all evidence of your period: streaks and splotches of blood running up the length of his dick. The sight of blood proving to mean nothing to the ‘Big Bad Punisher.’
He feeds himself back into you, eyes locked down below.
“Feelin’ like heaven,” he whispers, voice hoarse.
And with his hand secure around your hip, he drags it upwards, running up your side until he’s cupped under one of your tits — calloused, manly hands contradicting his careful touch. Leaning over you, he resumes his prior hovered position, his face mere inches from yours as he begins his very gentle rocking. His free hand firmly situated beside you for stability.
You wrap your hand around his lower arm beside your head, fingers far from connecting around the meat of it. Just holding onto him like you were seeking comfort. And as you’re pawing at his beefy upper wrist, his head is ducking to your chest — the hand occupied with your tit pushing it upwards to meet his mouth. 
He peppers the upper of your breast in soft kisses, his lips grazing the sore and tender skin to the same pace of his slow, irregular strokes. Matching his caress-like kissing to his fucking, the dual act like an attempt to ease all the aches and pains in your body. 
⎯ ☆ ⎯
timing was crazy for this one bc by the time I got around to writing it, I got my period??? nuts
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chvoswxtch · 10 months ago
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first date
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: frank finally asks you out on a date.
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 6.7k
a/n: y'all have only been waiting seventeen chapters for these two to finally go on a date, but the moment has arrived! i'd like to give a shoutout to the main character of this chapter: frank's belt. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]
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Before you could even think about getting out of Frank’s truck and heading inside the Bulletin, his large hand reached over to grasp your own that was in your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze to capture your attention. When you turned to look back at him, there was a nervous glint in his eye. Nervous was not an emotion you were used to seeing Frank wear. As a matter of fact, you weren’t sure you had ever seen it, and it triggered your own nerves in response.
“I wanna ask you somethin’.”
“Okay.”
Despite the softness of your tone, your voice seemed to echo in the confined space of his truck. The way Frank’s warm brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own made it apparent that he seemed to be struggling with whatever it was that he wanted to ask. To soothe him, you turned your palm over in his large hand so that you could lace your fingers together and lightly stroked your thumb along one of his scarred knuckles affectionately. After an agonizing moment of tense silence, he let out a deep exhale through his nose and his rough voice broke through the quietness that had settled.
“What are you doin’ Saturday night?”
When the implication behind his question clicked in your head, a huge grin instantly split your lips completely apart to the point that your cheeks ached, and your eyes lit up with pure excitement. Tilting your head to the side a bit in a teasing manner, you faintly narrowed your eyes into a look of faux suspicion.
“Frank Castle, are you asking me out on a date?”
Frank blew out a puff of air as he turned his head to look out the windshield, letting out a quiet chuckle as the edge of his lips quirked up in a crooked half smile. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when he turned to look at you again, his gaze flickered between your lips and your eager stare.
“Tryin’ to.”
Sinking your top teeth down into your bottom lip, you turned your body completely in the passenger seat so that you were facing Frank, still holding his hand in your lap while you sat up straight. As you looked over at him expectantly, Frank cocked one of his dark brows in silent questioning, prompting you to arch one of your own in response.
“Well, go on.”
“Go on, what?”
“Ask me.”
“I just did.”
“No, you said you wanted to. I didn’t hear a formal query.”
Frank rolled his eyes as he let his head fall back against the headrest, shaking it slightly while he let out a lighthearted scoff.
“You don’t ever make anythin’ easy, do ya?”
“I thought you figured that out by now.”
Frank clicked his tongue against his cheek, but you could see how hard he was fighting his amusement by the way the corners of his mouth twitched. Letting out an impatient huff, you rolled your own eyes and squeezed his hand to get him to look at you.
“Oh come on, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? I want the whole experience.” 
That got Frank’s attention. Turning his head to look at you, his thick brows rose up his forehead a bit, but only for a moment. His gaze then tapered while a cocky smirk lifted the left corner of his mouth upwards, and he motioned in your direction with his chin.
“How long?”
Heat abruptly flushed in your cheeks when your brain caught up with the confession your mouth let slip. Narrowing your own eyes at Frank, you let go of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest defiantly.
“You have thirty seconds before I get out of this truck.”
Frank chuckled deeply, causing light crinkles to fan around his eye sockets, and the unfiltered joy on his face made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. It never failed to amaze you how different Frank looked when he smiled. It was almost like looking at an entirely different person. One that wasn’t haunted by a separate lifetime of trauma and unbearable loss. He finally lifted his large hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright, alright.”
Twisting in his seat to face you, Frank brought his arm over to slide along the headrest next to you, and he slipped his thick fingers into your hair, moving them downwards until he could brush the rough pad of his thumb along your cheekbone delicately.
“Sweetheart, can I take ya out Saturday night?”
Almost instinctively, you melted into Frank’s touch, your cheek finding its home within his palm. There was a boyish grin on his lips, and you were tempted to climb across the space between you and straddle his lap so you could taste them. A sense of giddiness was fluttering in your stomach, and a smile born of pure happiness was strewn across your mouth.
“It’s a date.”
»»———  ———««
Frank was the epitome of a perfect gentleman. He showed up at your door five minutes early, although you had a slight suspicion he had been lingering in your hallway for far longer than that, and he had a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Either you didn’t remember telling him what your favorite flower was, or Frank just really knew you. It was a simple, perhaps old fashioned gesture, but it warmed your heart. No one had ever gotten you flowers before, except for your mom.
To your surprise, Frank wore a black tie with his navy blue button down that was tucked into his dark jeans, and even threw a black blazer on top. You hadn’t seen him this dressed up since the night of the gala. It was kind of odd seeing him look so cleaned up. 
The restaurant he took you to had to be one of the nicest places you had ever stepped foot in. It looked like one of those places that charged you just to breathe their air, and you felt severely underdressed in the simple black dress you wore, even though Frank had complimented it at least three times on the walk over. 
A pristine white cloth was draped over the square table complete with the most shiny silverware you had ever seen resting on opposite sides of an eggshell colored plate. In the middle of the table was a small glass half sphere that had an ivory tinted tea light candle inside, creating an ambient glow in the dim lighting. Continuing the chivalry, Frank pulled out your chair for you and you quietly thanked him before he rounded the table to take his own seat. Your eyes were quickly drawn to the floor to ceiling grand windows to your right that had a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up. It was the perfect romantic backdrop.
But it wasn’t you.
And it wasn’t Frank.
He couldn’t sit still. He was shifty, tugging at the black tie around his neck, subtly bouncing his knee under the table. Frank’s eyes were constantly darting around, a habit of his you had grown accustomed to. Anywhere you two went, he was always hypervigilant, constantly sitting where he had a whole view of whatever place he was in, and a clear sight of all the entrances and exits. But tonight it almost seemed worse. It was blatantly obvious he was completely out of his element. He hadn’t said one word to you in the five minutes since the two of you had sat down at your table. Frank’s thick eyebrows were furrowed, an array of warring emotions flashing across his face while looking down at the sleek menu in his large hands.
Frank wasn’t the only one that felt out of place. You couldn’t hardly read a word on the menu, and the price for one single glass of wine made your eyes nearly pop out of your head. A few more minutes of silence passed before you glanced up at Frank again, and you noticed a few beads of sweat building along his hairline. He looked as uncomfortable as you felt. The other people sitting at neighboring tables around yours reminded you of people you had been introduced to at a dinner party with Steven once. It wasn’t as much of a dinner party as it was an excuse for Steven’s parents to show off their ridiculous multi-million dollar home, inviting New York’s elite to kiss his father’s ass while the attendees compared shiny new toys, scandals, and mistresses. That had been one of the most miserable nights of your life.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when the waiter approached the table, hands clasped behind his back, looking between you and Frank with a polite smile. He was tall and thin, freshly shaven, and his dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed. He was dressed as if he were attending a black and white gala, not waiting tables. 
“Good evening, and welcome to Brasserie. My name is Andrew. It is our pleasure to have you dining with us this evening. Shall I start you with a glass of our 2014 Brunello di Montalcino ma’am? Perhaps a Manhattan with our twelve year barrel aged rye whiskey for you sir? They both pair well with our Seared Foie Gras.”
Frank was staring at the waiter like he was speaking a language he had never heard of. His thick brows were creased in evident confusion, and you had to attempt to stifle a laugh at just how adorable he looked in that moment. You cleared your throat to gain the waiter’s attention and gave him a polite smile of your own.
“Can we have a moment to look over the menu, please?”
Andrew gave a faint nod of his head, his hands still clasped behind his back. That polite smile looked like it was permanent.
“Of course, ma’am. I’ll be back in a few moments.”
After he retreated, you looked across the table at Frank curiously.
“How did you find this place, exactly?”
Hearing the suspicion in your voice, Frank adjusted restlessly in his chair, reaching up to tug at the tie around his neck with a low grunt. His eyes darted around the restaurant for the thousandth time since you had sat down.
“Bill recommended it. Pulled some strings, got us a table.”
Suddenly it all clicked. No wonder Frank seemed so uncomfortable. He didn’t pick this place; Billy did. This restaurant had Billy Russo written all over it. With that new information, the way he was all dressed up now made sense too. On one hand, it made you grin knowing Frank had gone to Billy for help planning for your first date. It was so…cute. You would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. On the other hand though, while you appreciated Billy’s input and help, you wanted tonight to be about you and Frank, and this setting didn’t represent either of you.
Quickly shutting the menu, you placed it back down on your plate and stood up, which immediately grabbed Frank’s attention. His head snapped up, looking at you in a mixture of puzzlement and trepidation, and when you held your hand out to him, he stared at it like it was a foreign object.
“Come on.”
“Where we goin’?”
“Just come on.”
Following suit, Frank closed his menu and set it down on the plate, grabbing your hand and standing up from his chair. Lacing your fingers together, you lead him down the exact path you had taken from the host’s stand and exited back outside onto the street through the tall glass doors. After taking a few steps down the sidewalk, you paused and turned around to face Frank, dropping his hand to reach up and undo the knot of his tie, slipping the black material from around his neck and stuffing it into your purse. You unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dark navy shirt, giving you a glimpse of his tan skin beneath, and pushed the black blazer off his broad shoulders and down his large arms. Folding his blazer over your arm, you took a step back to take in your handiwork, and a tender smile caressed your lips.
This was the Frank you knew.
“Much better.”
Frank glanced down at himself before lifting his head to look back at you. There was a look in his eyes that you didn’t know how to read. His lips parted slightly, and then quickly shut. Turning his head to stare at the restaurant the two of you had just left, he was quiet for a moment before looking down at you again. This time, you could see a hint of uncertainty shining in his deep brown eyes under the illumination of the street light above.
“I’m sorry.”
Frank’s apology instantly perplexed you, and it was written all over your face.
“Sorry for what?”
He let out a deep sigh, looking over your head to watch people passing by on the street in opposite directions behind you. He lifted one of his large hands to nervously rub at the back of his neck before meeting your gaze again.
“I uh…don’t really know what I’m doin’, here. I’m a bit…outta practice.”
The honesty behind his confession made your heart constrict in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. Frank hadn’t dated since he lost his wife. He hadn’t been on a first date in decades. It suddenly occurred to you how big of a deal tonight was to Frank, and that made your features soften. Taking a step closer, you brought one of your hands up to gently place against his jaw, staring up at him with an understanding smile.
“It’s okay. So am I.”
The feeling of your soft hand on his skin made him physically relax almost instantaneously. His large hands came up to gently grab your waist, and he pulled you in flush against his chest, staring down into your eyes deeply. 
“I just…wanted tonight to be special for ya.”
The juxtaposition of his gruff voice speaking so softly sent a tingle down your spine and only made you melt into his embrace even further. He was trying so hard, putting so much effort into trying to achieve what he thought was perfection, not realizing that the one thing you wanted tonight was the man standing in front of you.
“Frank, it’s already special. I’m with you. That’s all I wanted. I don’t need all of that. You could take me to get hot dogs at the stand on the street corner, and I’d be thrilled.”
Frank’s lips tugged into a wide grin as he chuckled, giving your waist a faint squeeze while shaking his head.
“I ain’t takin’ you for a goddamn hot dog on our first date.”
“Why not? I like hot dogs.”
“I ain’t ever even seen you eat a hot dog.”
Fighting your own grin, you tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes lightheartedly while gazing up at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be trying to impress me? Not arguing with me?”
Frank’s dark brown eyes roamed over your figure in his hands, a smirk stretching across his lips at the sass in your voice.
“Thought that’s what I was doin’ til’ you dragged us outta that nice place.”
“I wasn’t paying thirty-seven dollars for one fucking glass of wine.”
“You wouldn’ta been payin’ anyway.”
Rolling your eyes, you gave his bicep a gentle squeeze while smirking up at him.
“Okay fine, I wasn’t going to let you pay thirty-seven dollars for one glass of wine. That’s like…three times what I spend on one bottle.”
“Didn’t realize you were so high maintenance.”
Burying your face into his chest, you couldn’t stop the laughter that made your shoulders shake slightly. Frank’s arms slipped around your waist, hugging you close to his chest, and you could hear his own laughter echoing deep within his chest and feel it rumbling against your own. Leaning back a little, you looked up at him with a teasing smirk and arched one of your brows.
“You know, I’m surprised Maria ever went out with you. You’re kind of the worst.”
Frank stared down at you with a soft smile and his large hand rubbed up and down your lower back gently.
“You and me both.”
Even though the two of you were standing on a crowded sidewalk in lower Manhattan with dozens of people passing by every second, while the two of you stared at one another, everything else faded away. It felt like you were in your own little bubble.
“Alright, if you’re gonna fight me on hot dogs, what’s the compromise between that and a menu I can’t read or pronounce?”
“I had a back up plan.”
»»———  ———««
Frank took you to a small little Italian restaurant for dinner. It was owned by a family who had immigrated to New York in the 1960s from Sicily and had been passed down through the hands of several generations. The red brick of the walls had faded into a dull shade of rust, the wooden table was worn and chipped from several decades of use and hot plates, and the wine tasted like it had come out of a five dollar box, but it was perfect.
Both of you were so much more relaxed and at ease in this cozy, intimate environment. The owner of the restaurant, a charismatic older man named Tony with a thick Italian accent, talked you into ordering the Rigatoni Amatriciana, and it was one of the best dishes you had ever tasted. He also never let your wine glass go completely empty. Once he found out you and Frank were on a date, every time Tony came over to your table, he’d look at you before glancing at Frank and nudge his shoulder with a grin, nodding in your direction and saying ‘lucky man’. It never failed to make you blush, or to make Frank beam with pride.
This was the most laid back you had ever seen Frank. The wine was flowing, and you were trading bites of each other’s dishes along with stories. He was in the middle of telling you how he met Maria at a park when you nearly spit out your wine as laughter abruptly erupted from your lips.
“Wait, she said what?”
Frank was laughing just as hard as you were, covering the top half of his face with his large hand, his broad shoulders moving up and down rapidly.
“Swear to God, she says, ‘Hey buddy, you know anythin’ else? Because we’re sick of hearin’ you butcher this one’.”
Covering your mouth with your hand, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but the image of a nineteen year old embarrassed Frank getting called out by his future wife for playing guitar so badly was causing your stomach to ache from your fit of giggles.
“Were you really that bad?”
“I wasn’t bad, I was just…strugglin’, ya know? I was tryin’ to learn a new song, ya know…singin’ it out loud like an asshole. I was-”
Frank paused for a moment, like he was replaying the memory in his head, and then a grin split across his lips as he shook his head and started laughing again.
“-I was butcherin’ the hell outta it.”
Hearing the resignation in his voice when he stopped defending himself only made you laugh even harder, watching as he brought his glass of wine to his smiling lips to take a large sip.
“Wow, she must have really liked you to still go out with you after that.”
Frank set his glass of wine down and gave a light nod of his head, staring down at his empty plate with a soft smile on his lips and a somewhat far away look in his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah she uh…she saw somethin’, I guess. Somethin’ I couldn’t.”
Staring over at Frank quietly for a moment, you set your wine glass down before reaching across the table to place your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. When he glanced up to meet your gaze, you looked at him with a warm smile on your lips.
“It doesn’t matter if you couldn’t see it. She saw it, and it was special. That’s all that matters.”
Frank regarded you silently for a minute, and then a tender smile of his own crossed his lips while he brought your hand up to place a soft kiss to the back of it.
“You’re somethin’ special, you know that?”
Warmth caressed the tops of your cheeks and spread throughout your lower belly. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you…it had those three words right on the tip of your tongue again. It was astounding how everything with Frank felt so…natural. He was the first person you didn’t have to pretend with or water yourself down for. He didn’t expect you to be anyone other than who you were. Tonight was the most relaxed and carefree you had ever felt on a date, or in any of your past relationships before. As badly as you wanted to shout those three words from the rooftops, you decided on another truth instead.
“You make me feel it.”
»»———  ———««
After indulging in the most delicious tiramisu you’d ever tasted in your life, you and Frank found yourselves in a small dive bar a few blocks down the street. It wasn’t too terribly packed for a Saturday night, and you two managed to snag an unoccupied pool table towards the back of the bar after ordering a round of drinks. Frank, being the gentleman he is, offered to teach you how to play, and even though you already knew how, you weren’t going to turn down the offer. It was far too enticing. 
For about half an hour, you let him explain the game, felt him pressing up against you from behind while he “taught you” how to hold the pool cue and how to aim, his large rough hands manipulating yours on the cue to demonstrate proper placement. After he was finished with his little lesson, and with the liquid mischief of tequila flowing through your bloodstream, you decided to make things interesting.
“I bet the next round of drinks that I can sink that seven.”
Frank quickly paused when lifting his beer bottle to his lips, arching one of his thick brows while an expression of amusement painted his features as he looked at you.
“Yeah? One lesson and you’re an expert, huh?”
Without offering a verbal reply, you winked at him before leaning over the pool table and lining up your shot.
The deep maroon seven ball glided along the hunter green felt canvas that’s vibrancy had been muted by decades of ashen smoke, complemented by faint rings from one too many sweaty beer glasses and other questionable stains. It sank into the corner pocket with a loud clack, and Frank’s attention flickered between the corner pocket and your form leaned over the pool table, an expression of complete surprise flashing across his features. 
Slowly rising up to your full height, you fought to contain the smirk that threatened to overtake your entire mouth, though a whisper of it could be detected at the corner of your ruby painted lips. Frank noticed it, he noticed everything, and it had him narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“You hustlin’ me?”
Placing the bottom of the pool stick on the floor, your fingers lightly slid down the smooth maple wood, lightly wrapping around the midsection while you lightly shrugged your shoulders.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Frank stared at you from where he stood casually leaning against the edge of the table, one of his large hands resting on his hip along the leather of his belt, the other grasping his own pool stick with two of his fingers and his beer bottle with the rest. The dim light above the pool table cast a shadow over his sharp features that made his warm whiskey eyes appear more like deep pools of darkened espresso. His thick brows pinched, causing a crease in his forehead.
“You said you didn’t know how to play-”
“I never said that.”
The look of faux innocence on your features caused Frank’s eyes to darken, cocking his head to the side while staring at you in a way that was silently challenging you to prove his memory wrong. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly began to round the expansive pool table, your lips stretching into a playful grin. Slipping between Frank’s large form and the table, you purposefully brushed your ass against the front of his jeans, eliciting a deep grunt from him in response. 
“You said you could teach me.” 
Leaning over the pool table, you arched your back a little more than necessary while lining your pool stick up with the cue ball, lifting your ass further up into Frank’s point of view. You didn’t need to glance over your shoulder to know that’s exactly where his hungry gaze was. You could feel it.
“Yeah, and you let me.”
There was just barely a trace of annoyance nestled in the gravel of his deep voice, and it made you grin. 
“Did you think I was gonna pass up the opportunity to let you bend me over something?”
The dingy ivory cue ball was lined up perfectly with the smooth electric blue of the two, but just as you were about to take your shot, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your hip and squeezed tightly as he pressed himself against you from behind, and your hand slipped. The cue ball sailed only a few inches ahead in the opposite direction you planned for, and you tightened your grip around your pool stick. 
Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you turned your head to look up at Frank over your shoulder, only to find him staring back at you with a burning intensity that ignited a flame of pure desire in your lower belly.
“That wasn't fair.”
“And wigglin’ your ass in the air, bein’ a goddamn tease is?”
Before you could respond, Frank leaned forward, pressing his firm chest right up against your back, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The spiced woodsy scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses far more than the concoction that wafted in the dense air of the dive bar, and you could almost taste the beer on his lips when he leaned in so close that his large nose bumped against your own.
“You wanna play dirty, sweetheart? We’ll play dirty.”
Frank suddenly stood up straight and let go of you to walk around towards the opposite end of the pool table. He grabbed the triangular rack and retrieved the balls from the outlet below before grabbing the others that were still scattered across the table, and he set up a brand new game with a look of pure focus and determination in his eyes.
You couldn’t help yourself from being even more of a tease. Frank just looked too damn good, and you had a great buzz going. He’d loosened another button to your delight, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms. Leaning your pool stick against the table, you sauntered over towards the high top table to your right where your purse was and slipped your hand inside, pulling Frank’s long forgotten tie out. 
“If I win-”
Turning around to face Frank with a smirk, you noticed that he had paused his set up of the game and was now glancing between the tie in your hands and the look on your face in a mixture of intrigue and confusion.
“-I get to use this, on you.”
As soon as those words left your lips, Frank’s eyes instantly darkened. He stared at you in a way that made you want to abandon the game all together and drag him out to the alley to let him fuck you there, but you knew he wouldn’t budge. Frank didn’t back down from a challenge. He embraced it. His eyes flickered between the tie in your hands and your gaze, letting out a quiet grunt accompanied by a nod in response before removing the rack once the balls were set up in a perfect triangle.
Grabbing his beer bottle from the edge of the table, he motioned towards your pool cue with it before taking a large sip.
“Ladies first.”
Placing the tie back into your purse, confusion knit between your brows at Frank’s nonchalance. You stared at him from the opposite end of the table, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you get if you win?”
Frank focused his attention solely on you, and there was a predatory look in his eyes that made you nearly sink to your knees right then and there.
“Figured I’d show ya instead.”
»»———  ———««
It took Frank twenty minutes to kick your ass. Twenty. Minutes. Why you thought you could actually beat him, who really knows. Maybe it was the confidence granted from the glasses of wine at dinner and the two margaritas you’d already had. Maybe you underestimated how good of a pool player Frank was, which was stupid on your part considering it wasn’t far fetched to think that his base had a pool table and he probably perfected his game during his tours in the Marines. Maybe you just didn’t give a fuck if you won or not because either way, you got Frank. He didn’t tell you exactly what he wanted if he won, but the fact of the matter was you could see in his eyes just what it was that he wanted and you were more than eager to give it to him.
Frank kicked the door to the small dive bar bathroom shut with his boot, taking his hand off you only for a quick second to lock the door. His kisses were hungry and aggressive, and even a little possessive. His large hands slipped from your waist down to your hips and finally reached around to land on your ass, squeezing roughly through the thin material of your dress. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he tore his lips away from yours just to attach them to your neck, leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses before speaking into your ear in a low and rough voice that had your panties immediately soaked.
“Been wantin’ to rip this off you all goddamn night.”
“No one’s stopping you.”
Frank’s large hands found their way to your hips once again, and he tugged your dress upwards until the hem of it was at the top of your thighs. Gripping onto your waist, he quickly lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the sink, the cool ceramic of it a stark contrast to the heated skin on the backs of your thighs. Just as you were reaching for his belt, he suddenly let go of you and took a few steps back, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip. Seeing the look of confusion on your face and the impatient pout on your lips, he stared at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Put your hands together.”
Blinking a few times, you continued to stare at him in perplexity. A crease formed between your brows at his words. 
“What?”
Frank didn’t tear his ravenous eyes away from you. They trailed over your figure, drinking in the sight of your dress bunched up to your hips, your thighs spread apart as you sat on the edge of the sink with your legs dangling below, a delectable view of your soaked panties. He took in the way your breasts rose and fell quickly from how hard you were breathing already, the heat that flushed in your cheeks, and the look in your eyes that gave away just how badly you wanted him.
Bringing his large hands to his belt, he slowly and teasingly started to unbuckle it. Despite the fact that you two were in a public space and anyone could come banging on the door at any minute, he was taking his time, making a show of pulling the worn leather from the metal buckle. 
“Your hands. Put ‘em together. I got a prize to claim.”
You were so mesmerized and aroused by the sight of Frank unbuckling his belt, you almost missed what he said. Lifting your gaze up to look at him, you seemed to get an idea of what he had planned for you, and it sent a thrill of excitement throughout your entire body. Without another moment of hesitation, you quickly pressed your hands together which earned a pleased smirk from Frank. He cocked his head to the side, slipping his belt from the loops of his jeans while taking a step towards you.
“Would ya look at that. You can do what you’re told. This what I gotta do to get you to listen, baby?”
An intense wave of heat pooled between your thighs at the way he was teasing you. His voice was so coarse and rough, but the way he spoke to you was smooth like honey. Biting down on your bottom lip, you gave a faint shake of your head.
“I’m listening cause I want it too.”
Frank was standing directly in front of you now between your spread thighs, and a grin stretched over his soft lips as he kept his head cocked to the side, staring into your eyes in pure hunger and amusement.
“That right?”
All you could manage was a soft hum in the back of your throat in response. When he started to wrap his belt around your wrists, your gaze quickly dropped to watch. The loud music playing outside was nothing compared to how loudly your heart was pounding in your ears. Frank carefully but expertly bound your wrists together, giving the leather a gentle tug to test his own work. Grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, he lifted your head to capture your eyes.
“This alright?”
Nodding your head eagerly, Frank let out a soft chuckle. He lightly brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in to nuzzle his large nose against yours.
“C’mon now. That pretty head full of all them big words and you ain’t got none for me right now?”
“Hurry up.”
Frank let out a deep bellow of laughter at your impatient and rushed response, crinkles of delight fanning around his eye sockets.
“There’s my girl.”
Grabbing your elbows, Frank lifted your arms above your head, hooking your bound wrists on a piece of the light fixture above the mirror, leaving you completely at his mercy. He didn’t waste any time unzipping his pants to free his fully erect cock, attaching his lips to your neck once again while he pulled your panties to the side and pushed his hips forward. Immediately your head fell back against the mirror behind you the second that Frank’s thick cock nestled deeply within your snug walls and a loud grunt from him was followed by a desperate moan from you.
Time was not a luxury you had right now, and as much as Frank wanted to lose himself in you, he had to keep in mind where you were. Wrapping one of his strong arms around your waist, he pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, and while you wrapped your legs tightly around his lower back, he began to snap his hips swiftly. The glass was cold against the exposed skin of your back, and Frank was fucking you so hard, you thought it was gonna shatter from impact.
“Frank-”
He quickly placed his large hand over your mouth and whispered deeply into your ear.
“Shh shh shh, need ya to be quiet for me, baby.”
The sounds of your sharp moans and cries of pleasure were muffled by Frank’s large hand that was clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet. He buried his face into your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, biting down gently to keep himself from moaning out. Every low grunt and groan Frank dripped into your ear was pushing you closer and closer to that edge that you wanted to free fall from. He was being rougher with you than he ever had, and it made your head spin. 
Tugging at his belt around your wrists, you let out a muffled whine against his palm. You wanted to touch him, but you were also enjoying this side of Frank too much to really care. Long gone was the gentleman who had picked you up at your door just hours ago with flowers in hand. Frank was fucking you hard and rough, and it was quick and messy, but it was exhilarating. Every time you were with Frank, it was like a brand new experience. He made you feel things you had never felt before, and gave you things you didn’t even know you were craving.
You could tell he was close when his pace started to falter. He began to fuck you relentlessly, and your legs tightened around his lower back. Your arms were starting to ache from being suspended above your head, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to really fucking care. You were far too turned on and dangerously close to coming. Slipping his hand down from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead, he pressed his forehead against yours and spoke lowly while staring deeply into your eyes.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t hardly speak. The way Frank was fucking you, his hand around your throat, your wrists bound above your head with his belt, the fact that you were in the bathroom of a dive bar; it all rendered you in incoherent mess. All you could do was nod weakly while letting out an obscene moan, staring at him with wide eyes in complete desperation. 
“Attagirl.”
That was all it took for a warm blanket of bliss to envelop you completely and stars to explode behind your eyelids. Frank poured sweet nothings into your ear while your hips uncontrollably bucked against him, and he continued to fuck you deeply through your orgasm. He dropped his hand from your throat and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hugging you tightly to his chest when his hips started to stutter. 
The sound of Frank calling out your name when he reached his own peak was something you would never get tired of. It sent chills throughout your entire body, and it only made it that much harder to not speak those three words that tried to claw their way out of your ribcage.
Frank gently brought your arms down and removed his belt from your wrist, slipping it back through the loops of his jeans before buckling it and zipping up his fly. Wetting a napkin, he carefully cleaned you up, pressing soft kisses along your jawline in the process. A hazy grin stretched across your lips as you slowly slid your hands up Frank’s biceps to wrap around his neck.
“We should make bets more often.”
He let out a deep chuckle as he grabbed your waist and gently lifted you up from the sink, setting you back down on unsteady legs. He helped you fix your dress before grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, smirking at you.
“You ain’t gotta make a bet for that. All you gotta do is ask.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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fathomlessgaze · 11 months ago
Text
artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave
very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)
an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...
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pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.
you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”
he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.
pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”
“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 
you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 
there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 
while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?
“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.
“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 
“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  
“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”
you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 
“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 
you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.
steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”
he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 
knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”
his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 
when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.
“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”
“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”
maybe this was always a losing battle.
“so maybe that’s what i want.”
this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 
your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  
he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 
a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 
something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”
sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago
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psssstttt….
using frank’s big, heavy balls to rub your clit and him coming on your pussy from the sight of it then fucking his cum back inside
a/n: sliiightly changed the sluttiness, hope that's okay. i swear, i read it so closely, but i think it might have scrambled my horny brain too much because when i sat down to write it, it unfolded slightly differently (still very close, he just doesn't cum from the sight, he just came and then he starts the whole fantasy)
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“O-oh my g-god!” you trembled against the sheets as Frank’s weight lightened and he sat back to marvel at the masterpiece he had just painted on your pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart…” you heard him groan, giving his only half-softened girth a generous squeeze before swiping the bulbous head through his load that glistened on your fluttering pussy. Your frame twitched and jumped lightly at the overstimulation as he rubbed his cum further into your puffy petals. 
His movements soon became so broad that the entirety of his length slid through your folds, up over your sensitive clit and against the lower part of your stomach, smirking at how exceptionally deep he had been just moments before. But when you felt the weight of him against your lower belly, just before he scooped down to repeat the lavish pattern, so too did you feel a different heft rut against your buzzing pearl, a sensation that caused your hazy eyes to roll in your skull. 
Craning down to steal a sloppy peck from your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he purposely nuzzled his heavy sack against your clit. 
“You like that, huh?” he chuckled thickly at your reaction, his sturdy nose grazing against your own, “I thought you were done. I thought you said it was too much and that you just couldn’t take it anymore,” peeling himself off of you once more, he leaned back and tapped the weight of him against your collective mess, “and now you’re fucking purring like I didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he smiled down you and you felt his palm run up your shivering frame. 
Swiping his thumb across your core, he didn’t clean his cum off of you, but scooped it further down towards your entrance.
Spreading you wide with his digits, you felt the tip of him tease your quivering hole, “you want more, hm? You want me to fuck my cum deep inside of you? Is one load just not enough for my girl today? Because I can keep going, baby. I can keep going till you fucking pass out…”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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fluffyprettykitty · 3 months ago
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My sweet selene, my darling, I have missed your writing so very much. So here I am asking that you bring this conversation we once had to life.
How do we feel about book store date with Billy, followed by cockwarming, and he make her read one of the books to him. And she can't come until she finishes a chapter. The extent of the smut and other kinks is your choice, I trust you with my heart.
Besitos
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Pairing: Billy Russo x female reader (no other specifications!)
Word Count: ~500 words
Warnings: cockwarming, teasing
Author’s Note: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii lia ilysm, we can still pretend it's spring and i did these on time hello! i'll write the rest too i promise <3
PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika
Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist
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Billy was always the determined type so when he picked you up from work and took you to the bookstore to pick whatever you wanted you knew that a simple gift wasn't enough for him.
You browsed through the sections and ended up lingering on the classics sections. He instructed you to pick five books and so you did. You placed them in his hands and waited outside by the car for him. Once out he took you to a restaurant for some late lunch/early dinner and then you were off to his place.
He lived in a luxury apartment in upstate New York and one of your favourite things to do was just to stare outside at the big city skylines. He seemed to be doing some work while you were sitting on the couch freshly showered wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of the books you picked.
He came by with a smirk on his face as he watched you. The tall man observed you for a bit before he came closer and instructed you on his lap cuddling you, soon enough the cuddling turned to more, Billy not really keeping his hands to himself.
Next thing you know he has you rubbing yourself against his clothed hard-on while he's listening to your reading aloud. He fumbles with his belt and pants until he frees his cock and pushes your panties to the side sliding it right in. The sun had long been set as he looked up at you with a smile.
"Read for me..." He whispered, his lips digging into your neck, struggling to hold on to your book.
"Billy...." You breathed out feeling him occupying your walls so deliciously, you hadn't seen him for three days and you were getting needy yourself.
"Read." He said again before biting your neck. You groaned as you placed the book against the back of the couch and continued reading aloud.
He continued kissing and teasing your neck, loving and feeling the vibrations of your voice chords as he wrapped his hands tightly on your waist not allowing you to go anywhere.
You came to a halt as the pleasure was getting a little too much for you but he only tilted his head to scold you.
"Don't stop until you finish your chapter."
"There are no chapters in this book!" You protested cursing the days you chose this particular book.
"Sucks for you." He chuckled and kissed you again on your neck possesively. "I wanna know how this plays out." You groaned louder as you continued reading aloud.
You were in for a long night.
A very long night.
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