#the punisher fanfiction

[spider-stark]

SAME SIN

pairing | frank castle x reader

summary | in your darkest hour, matt doesn't answer the phone. but frank does.

warnings | blood, death, violence, attempted robbery, religious trauma, possible infidelity, matt's lowkey kind of a bitch in this but that's ok, probably deviates from canon at times but fuck it we ball, MDNI 18+

word count | 3.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Blood wept from your fingertips, dripping onto the asphalt.

It had soaked through the man’s shirt. Oozed from the scattered holes in his chest, pooling around his torso. His lungs breathed no air. His eyes didn’t blink, gazing sightless up towards the Heavens. 

Sickness hit in a crushing wave. 

You doubled over, clutching your stomach as bile surged up your throat, burning over your tongue. The gagging continued long after there was nothing left, saliva dribbling from your bottom lip. 

Then there was stillness. 

Not the stillness of calm, or peace. But punishment. Sentencing. The solemn gaze of an all-forgiving Father as he stands before you, stone in-hand.

[To kill is a violation of Faith—] 

{—You or them?} 

The gun had still been smoking when it’d clattered at your feet. 

Regret felt like a wet blanket on your shoulders, suffocating in its weight. You couldn’t stand it.

Couldn’t stand.

Asphalt dug into your knees, crumpling at the man's side. Your hands had been shaking as you grabbed his wrist, searching for a pulse, praying for it in the way a sinner prays for absolution.

You found none. 

No pulse. No absolution. 

Still, you tried. Locked your fingers over his chest—pressing and pressing, trying and trying. Until thick ribs cracked and caved, until your palms were drenched in warmth and death and–

Rain. 

It was raining. 

Little drops, softly pattering all throughout the alleyway. You watched, dazed, as they slid down the lit-up screen in your hands. 

You didn’t remember pulling out your phone, but you remembered making the call. 

Calls. 

In the Bible, the number seven is considered sacred. Symbolic of divine oaths and promises, of perfection in the purest, most angelic sense. 

Seven times you called the Devil. 

Seven times he didn’t answer. 

You tilted your head back. The rain fell faster, cool drops steady rolling down your cheeks. The sky was a yawning, starless expanse. In the past, you’d always said that’s why you hated the city. The lack of stars—veiled by pollution and human selfishness, replaced by a twinkling skyline made of artificial hope. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you were glad for their absence. 

At least the stars hadn’t seen what you’d done. 

Blood smeared across the phone screen as you dialed your eighth call. A different tone than before; a number not saved but remembered. 

A number you’d promised Matt you’d never call again. 

{In case you ever need it—} 

[—I don’t trust him.] 

What is trust? 

Once, it felt like the comfort of sunlight pouring through stained glass windows. Sitting amidst the oaken pews with a man at your side—a soft man dressed in a sharp suit, his glasses tinted red and his heart pure gold. 

Now, trust felt like the relief of a call that rang only once. Of cold fear melting into the gruff warmth of another’s voice, heavy with concern as they answered: “You alright?” 

You almost laughed. 

No. Of course not—because why would you call Frank Castle if you were anything other than desperate? 

“Are you busy?” you asked, awkward and hesitant. 

In hindsight, the question felt stupid. There was a body lying in front of you, and certainly no amount of busyness took precedence over that. But then, Matt must’ve been busy. Playing dutiful layer or God’s lone soldier. That’s why he hadn’t answered. 

Unless… 

[Elektra’s just a friend—] 

{—That what we are?} 

On the other end of the line, Frank urged, “C’mon now, doll, you gotta answer me, alright?” Had he asked something? You hadn’t noticed. “Where’re you at?” 

“An alley.” 

A rough, humorless chuckle. “Little more specific, sweetheart.” 

Five blocks from Matt’s apartment, you thought. 

“Off West 51st,” you said. 

“Don’t move.” There was the sound of a door slamming, of boots pounding down a flight of stairs. “I’m on my way.” 

Panic thrashed in your veins, anticipating the sharp click of a call gone dead. “Wait!” A cry, a plea—but for what? You had no clue what to say next. 

You hadn’t told him about the man, or the gun, or the sin. 

And Frank hadn’t asked. You knew this was because the Why? for your call hadn’t mattered to him. 

Only that you had. 

{You call, I come—} 

[—Frank Castle is a murderer.] 

Your eyes squeezed shut. You went to rub them, then remembered the blood dripping from your hands. 

So am I, you thought. So am I. 

Frank said your name. Once, twice. 

Quietly, you asked, “Will you stay on the phone?” 

The sound of another door pushing open, a great whoosh! of air as the city unfolded around him: sirens screaming, traffic blaring. With your eyes closed, you could almost see—shoving from his apartment building, marching down darkened sidewalks with a determined clench in his jaw. 

It wasn’t a man coming to save you, nor a vigilante. 

It was a soldier. 

After drawing in a breath, Frank uttered, “‘Course.” 

Time dragged. 

Hell’s Kitchen droned around you. Occasionally, Frank would ask: You good? to which you replied: How far are you? At some point, you drifted further from the man’s body. Ended up sitting on the ground, your back pressed to a brick wall. 

Your emotions were still fuzzy, as dull as the blunt edge of a knife. But your nerves… those were razor sharp. 

You watched both ends of the alleyway. Vigilant, afraid. Your muscles tensed whenever a car door shut too loud, whenever a stranger passed beneath the distant, buzzing streetlights. 

What if someone noticed? 

Gunshots weren’t such a strange thing in the Kitchen. The Devil couldn’t be everywhere at once, and the cops were either too busy or too lazy to investigate every bang! in the night. 

But if someone noticed you like this—curled on the ground, a dead man at your feet and violent red on your skin… 

He started it, you reminded yourself. Self-defense is absolvable. 

[To a judge? Or to God?—] 

God doesn’t matter. 

[—Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?] 

Why didn’t you answer? 

Your grip tightened around the phone. “How far now?” 

“Check your nine.” In the second it took for you to envision a clock, Frank had already amended, “Left, sweetheart.” There was the barest hint of a smile in his voice. “Look left.” 

You did. 

Frank was little more than a formless figure approaching. He was dressed in all black, his hood up against the rain. You couldn’t see his face, but you didn’t need to. His presence was enough to ease the frantic beat of your pulse. 

When he was close enough to hear, you hung up the phone. Wiped your nose on your sleeve and sniffed, “Took you long enough.” 

Cool and calculating—two descriptors that fit Frank best as he scanned the scene. He took note of the discarded gun, the puddle of watered down blood, the man with three bullets in his chest. 

You were the last thing he noted, and the only one to put a crack in his stern exterior. 

“Smart enough to practice law,” Frank lightly joked, “but not to read a goddamn clock, huh?” 

A laugh sputtered past your lips, melding into a broken sob. 

“Paralegals don’t practice,” you argued, ignoring the tears wetting your cheeks. “And I can read a clock just fine, asshole.” 

There was a softness to his face, one brow raising. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” So long as it’s in front of you, and you’re telling time and not direction. 

Frank hummed, his knees popping as he crouched down beside you. “Well I ain’t got a watch,” he said, “so I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

Another weak laugh faded into quiet. 

Then, more hesitant than you’d ever heard him before, Frank asked, “You wanna tell me what happened?” 

Something about the way he said it struck you as odd. Like it was a choice—that you didn’t have to explain. If you wanted, the secrets of tonight could remain just that: Secrets, known only by you and a man who had no voice to share them. 

[Do you remember Psalm 80:9?—] 

Even secret sins are exposed in His light. 

{—How do you deal with it? All Red’s Catholic bullshit?} 

By believing in it. 

Frank took your silence for an answer. Shifted as if he might reach out, offer comfort. Instead, his fingers curled into loose fists. 

“How ‘bout you go wait around the corner,” he offered, “and let me take care of all this?” 

You weren’t sure what Frank’s version of ‘taking care of this’ entailed, but you knew you were comfortable with never finding out. 

Frank followed suit as you pushed off the ground. His movements were precise and easy, while yours were graceless and weighted. Standing, the world seemed to shift beneath your feet. Your mind was still hazy, your bones tired. 

Existence had become an arduous task. 

“When you’re��� done,” you managed, your arms curled tight around your waist, “what then?” 

You didn’t want to go home—or to Matt’s. 

You didn’t want to feel alone. 

As if he understood this, Frank simply answered, “I’ll take you back to my place. Get you cleaned up, let you rest awhile.” His head tilted slightly. “You like pizza?” 

The world was ending. 

And yet here stood Frank—no Bible quotes or Hail Mary’s, no judgement for the sin you’d committed or the mess he had to clean. He offered only calm, only patience—and pizza of all things. 

[What do you see in him?—] 

{—Let me take care of all this.} 

You nodded. 

Frank’s apartment was bleak. 

One room total—unless you counted the cramped shoebox of a bathroom, which you did not. The front door opened into a shoddy kitchenette, connected to a living room that clearly doubled as his bedroom. 

He owned minimal furnishings. There was a lumpy couch, a small table with one chair, an old doormat that read Stay Awhile! except the Awhile had been all but completely rubbed off. You assumed that’s why it was inside instead of out—because even indirectly, Frank Castle wasn’t the type to ask anyone to Stay. 

Behind you, Frank grunted as he kicked his boots off onto the mat. You wondered if you should do the same, but didn’t. 

It felt strange to be in Frank’s apartment. Not because it made you uncomfortable, but because it didn’t. You felt fine. Still shaken, still a little sick—but safe. 

Would Matt be able to tell? Would he smell the gunpowder and Old Spice clinging to your skin and know that you’d been with Frank? 

That’s how you knew when he’d been with Elektra. You didn’t need super senses to smell her perfume—a heady mix of cloves and something citrus, lingering on his shirts as plain as if it were lipstick on the collar. 

Unthinking, you said, “You should get a bird.” 

Frank chuckled. “Yeah? And why’s that?” 

You weren’t sure. It was just the first thing that had come to mind, a means of evicting Elektra from your thoughts. 

“It could liven the place up,” you suggested. Though, after taking another glance around, you realized that might be asking too much of one little bird. 

He’d need a flock. 

Frank slipped past you, warmth crawling up your spine at the slight brush of his hand against your back. You told yourself it was unintentional—no more intimate than someone scooting past you in a crowded bar or a grocery store aisle. 

Still, the warmth lingered. 

“Don’t think I’m much of a bird guy,” Frank admitted from the kitchenette. Then, nodding towards the couch, he added, “Sit.” 

You drifted that way and sank into the cushions. The springs were practically nonexistent, and the brown leather peeled like a bad sunburn—impossible not to pick at. 

“What kind of guy are you, then?” you asked, more interested in a distraction than his answer. 

Frank dug around in the cabinets, grabbed a plastic mixing bowl, and went to the sink. “I like dogs,” he told you, loud enough to be heard over the running water filling the bowl. 

You pretended not to hear him anyway. 

After starting at Nelson & Murdock, you’d planned to get a dog. It seemed like the right time. You had your own place, your own income—and you knew Foggy would love having something cute and furry around the office. But then you got closer to Matt, and the dream died before it ever began. 

Dogs were too much for Matt. Too many smells, too many sounds, too many textures. Back then, you’d thought it was a reasonable sacrifice. No dog in exchange for an incredible boyfriend. 

You knew better now. 

You should’ve picked the dog. 

Dragging the lone chair from the table, Frank settled in front of you with the bowl of steaming water and a thin cloth. His eyes went straight to your hand. You assumed it was because of the dried blood until he said, “You’re fucking up my couch.” 

You stopped picking, dusting the flakes of leather onto the floor. “It was already fucked,” you defended. 

“So you gotta make it worse?” 

You fixed him with a blank stare. “Nothing could make this couch worse.” Short of setting it on fire, that is. 

“That how we’re gonna play this?” Frank looked like he was holding in a laugh. “I let you in, offer you food—and you pay me back by talkin’ shit about my couch?” 

“It’s not just the couch,” you stated plainly. “It’s the whole apartment.” 

It reminded you of prison—a place that you, Foggy, and Matt had worked hard to keep Frank out of. Even if the trial hadn’t gone as expected, you hated the idea that all that fight had been for this: A peeling couch, a faded doormat, a lonely little chair. 

Frank deserved better than that. 

[Have you forgotten?—] 

[Castle was charged with 37 counts of murder] 

[—Why are you so attached to this case?] 

With the bowl balanced on top of his legs, Frank dipped the cloth in and wrung it out as he joked, “Guess I need that bird.” 

Your lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. 

“Guess so.” 

Frank held out an open palm. Without thinking, you laid your hand against his. 

The water was too hot. Not quite burning, but still uncomfortable as he pressed the cloth to your wrist. But you didn’t flinch, utterly motionless as he wiped in slow, circular motions. 

His touch was far lighter than you’d imagined. 

Not that you ever had imagined it. 

As the cloth moved down to your fingers, Frank’s focus grew more intent. He was meticulous in cleaning every line of your knuckles, the dried blood caked under your nails. 

Only when the water in the bowl had turned the color of rust, the cloth stained and your skin spotless, did Frank trade one of your hands for the other. 

Only then did you confess. 

“He had a knife.” 

Half a second—that’s how long Frank’s movements faltered before he kept on cleaning. You were thankful he didn’t try to look you in the eye. That he didn’t have to for you to know he was listening. 

“Foggy has a deposition in the morning,” you continued shakily. “He always forgets to print his motion, so I stopped by the office to do it for him and… I don’t know. On the way back home, I could just feel it, you know? That someone was there. That they were following me.” 

An understanding nod as Frank moved the cloth to your index finger. 

“I know it’s stupid,” you told him. “But I thought if I cut through the alley, got closer to Matt’s, then–” 

He’d hear it, if the worst happened. The Devil would come. Your boyfriend—if you could even still call him that—would save you. 

But that had been a stupid, childish thought. 

“I figured I could lose,” you said instead. “That I could turn the corner and just run in circles until he gave up. But he was fast. I wasn’t even halfway down the alley when he ran up behind me, when grabbed my shoulder and–” 

Your breath caught. Frank’s touch moved slower, gentler—a feat you wouldn’t have thought possible. His eyes caught yours in a concerned glance. Only then did you remember how to breathe. 

“It was just a knife, Frank. A knife—and I pulled out a gun!” A short, hollow laugh. “I should have let him rob me,” you rationalized. “At least a wallet can be replaced. But him, his life–” 

Frank cut you off. “How do you know?” 

Your brows furrowed in answer. 

His hand went still against yours, holding the cloth wrapped around your ring finger. “That that’s all he wanted,” Frank gruffly clarified. “To rob you.” 

“I don’t, but–” 

“You remember what I told you? When I taught you how to shoot?” 

{You or them?—}

Frustrated, you insisted, “It’s not that easy, Frank. It’s not my choice!” 

[—It’s up to God, who lives and who dies.] 

Frank shook his head. “That’s the Catholic in you,” he argued. 

“I’m not Catholic,” you snapped, low but harsh. Frank looked confused, and you fought to keep the shame from your voice as you muttered, “Not anymore.” 

Religion, you’ve learned, is a funny sort of thing. Even when you stop believing, it never truly goes away. God becomes a ghost under your skin, a divine haunting that borders on insanity. You will always think in terms of Sinners and Saints. You will always know that no amount of repentance will ever mold your soul into something more like the latter. 

Frank wasn’t the type to pry any further. 

Instead, he adjusted your hand. Carefully dragged the cloth along the curve of your fingernail. The water had cooled, now too cold where it was once too hot. 

“It doesn’t matter what he was going to do,” you decided. “It only matters that I killed him.” 

This time, it was Frank’s breath that hitched. 

“No you didn’t,” he said, and you had never heard someone tell a lie so matter-of-fact. 

“I did–” 

He looked up. A muscle feathered in his jaw, and when he spoke, it was with the steely resolve of a no nonsense Marine.  

“No. I did.” 

You blinked at him. 

“I gave you that gun,” he continued. “Gave you that goddamn advice, too. That no matter what, you always gotta pick you. And see, I don’t regret that shit either because all that? It kept you alive. Kept you breathing. And if some no-good prick’s gotta so you get to live? Fine. Good.” 

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but stare at him. 

“But if someone’s gotta bear the weight of that guy’s miserable life,” Frank told you, “then let it be me, alright?” His gaze fell, lingering on your lips a moment too long before he uttered, “‘Cause I ain’t gonna let it be you.” 

[You care about him—]

[—Don’t you?] 

Do you care about her? 

[Elektra’s just a friend—] 

… 

[—Can you say the same about Frank?] 

You studied the man before you. 

Frank Castle. The Punisher. 

The one you shouldn’t call, shouldn’t trust. A murderer and a felon, a crack in your already crumbling relationship. Someone you tried to stay away from, tried to forget. 

A number not saved, but remembered. 

No, you thought, and wondered if Matt already knew. I can’t. 

Swallowing, you looked down at your joined hands. The blood was almost all gone now, washed away by someone far more damned than you. 

“Okay,” you said. There was no need to say anything else, no need to keep bearing the crushing weight of your newly acquired sin—not when God was a ghost and the Devil had abandoned you, not when a Soldier was so willing to bear it for you. 

“You know,” you said, deftly changing the subject, “my brain’s a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure you promised me pizza.” 

Frank fought the subtle curve of his lips. “Did I?” 

You nodded, and he chuckled. 

“Fine–” he refocused, back to cleaning off the last of the blood–“but you’re placin’ the order.” 

You mocked him, Fine!, while sliding your phone from your pocket. The screen lit up with two missed calls and one text. 

Matthew: Sorry, got caught up with something. Everything OK? 

Your thumb hovered over the message. 

In the Bible, the number eight is symbolic of many things. Resurrection is one of them; something dead brought back into eternal life. Once, you would’ve seen Matt’s text—a string of eight words—and wondered if that meant something. If maybe there was something left of your love to be resurrected. 

Now, you stole a glance at Frank—your eighth call—and thought of new beginnings. Of choosing your own path. 

You cleared Matt’s message. 

Tapped on the Safari icon and asked, “Do you want somewhere specific?” 

“Ever been to Lombardi’s?” suggested Frank. 

You shook your head. “Is it good?” 

Frank cut you a look. “‘Course it’s good. But knowin’ you, you’ll probably shit talk it the same way you did my couch.” 

A smile tugged at your lips. “Keep it up,” you teased, already typing the restaurant into the search, “and your only company’s gonna be the couch and the bird.” 

He chuckled. “I ain’t gettin’ a bird.” 

You'd just pressed the phone to your ear, already listening to it ring when you built up the nerve to ask, "What about a dog?"

Frank set the cloth in the bowl. Gave your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Maybe a dog.”

a/n - this has been sitting in my drafts literally since january. i can't decide if i like it or hate it, but i've gotten into too much of a habit of writing, overthinking, and then never posting---so, here it is! thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it <3

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[wolvietxt]

𝓟ATCHWORK.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : injury, crying, non-sexual nudity, angst, size diff, hurt/comfort, teasing, fluff, happy ending summary : you take care of your boyfriend frank after he shows up at your door, bloody and bruised wc : 1.2k a/n : um hello punisher fandom i’m only on season one i’m so sorry #fakefan😥

the knock at your door came just after midnight, faint but insistent. you had a sinking feeling even before you opened it, knowing who it would be. frank always showed up like this - silent and battered, like a ghost returning to haunt your quiet life. except you really did love this ghost. but tonight was worse. the moment you saw him leaning heavily against the frame, his face pale under streaks of blood, your breath hitched.

“frank,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “oh my god, what happened?”

he grunted in response, brushing off your concern with a slight shake of his head. “‘s not as bad as it looks,” he muttered, but the way he swayed on his feet told a different story. instinctively, you reached out, your much smaller hands pressing against his chest to steady him. he was so solid, so big, but he felt fragile in this moment, like he might collapse if you let go.

“come inside,” you said, your voice wavering as you pulled him in. he barely made it two steps before you had to slip under his arm, guiding him toward the bathroom. “you shouldn’t even be walking. why didn’t you call me?”

“didn’t wanna… bother you,” he rasped, wincing as you helped him sit on the closed toilet lid. his broad shoulders hunched forward, and he sucked in a sharp breath when you knelt in front of him, slowly nestling in between his legs.

“bother me?” your voice cracked, tears already pricking at your eyes. “frank, you’re bleeding all over my bathroom. how could you think…” you trailed off, shaking your head as you reached for the first aid kit under the sink.

his lips twitched, a ghost of a smile despite the situation. “baby, you’re cryin’ already,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost teasing. “i’m the one all cut up, and you’re the one fallin’ apart.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand before focusing on the deep gash along his side. “it’s not funny.”

“maybe a little funny,” he said, but his voice was gentler now, his dark eyes watching you with something like affection. the size of him made you feel even smaller as you worked, your hands trembling as you cleaned the wound. “you don’t gotta do this, y’know.”

“stop saying that,” you mumbled, dabbing at the cut with antiseptic, trying to focus on stopping the bleeding rather than frank’s cooing at your sniffles. “you’re always saying that, like i’m not here because i want to be. you think i’d let just anyone bleed all over my floor?”

his chuckle was low, rumbling in his chest. “guess not.”

once the wound was cleaned and stitched, you leaned back on your heels, letting out a shaky breath. “all done. but you need to get cleaned up. you’re covered in…” you gestured vaguely at him, your lips quivering as you tried not to cry again.

“hey,” he said softly, his massive hand reaching out to cup your cheek, another of his little scoffs threatening to slip. he was trying to be as serious as possible for you, not wanting you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously, especially after putting you through so much. his thumb brushed away a stray tear, and the contrast of his rough skin against your softness made your heart ache. “don’t cry, sweetheart. it’s okay. i’m okay.”

“you’re not okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. your train of thought stopped abruptly when you noticed the corners of his lips slightly turning up. “frank! stop smiling. just let me help, okay?” you whined, lifting your head away from his hands.

“okay, sweetheart,” he didn’t argue, too tired to fight you on it. you stood and turned to the tub, starting the water and letting it run warm. the quiet sound of it filled the room, grounding you as you grabbed a clean towel and set it aside. when you turned back to him, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“come on,” you said, helping him to his feet. he towered over you, his sheer size making the act of guiding him to the tub feel almost absurd. but he let you, his movements slow and careful as he sank down onto the edge. his knees jutted up from the small space, his frame too large for the confines of your tiny bathroom.

“stay there,” you murmured, kneeling again to untie his boots and tug them off. your fingers worked quickly, but you were hyper-aware of his gaze, the weight of his attention making your cheeks flush.

once he was down to his boxers, you helped him ease into the water, your hands fluttering nervously as if you might break him. he let out a low sigh as the warm water enveloped him, his head tipping back against the edge of the tub.

“better?” you asked, perching on the side of the tub.

he hummed in response, his eyes slipping shut. after a moment, his head tipped forward, resting against your thigh. the vulnerability of the gesture stole your breath, and your hand hesitated mid-air before you rested it gently on his damp hair.

“you’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“stop saying that,” you replied softly, your fingers threading through his hair. “you deserve someone to take care of you, frank. you deserve…” your voice caught, the words sticking in your throat.

he tilted his head slightly, looking up at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “you’re cryin’ again.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, swiping at your cheeks. “it’s your fault. you’re so… stubborn.”

his laugh was soft, barely more than a huff of air, but it made your chest ache. “didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.”

you shook your head, your hand still brushing through his hair. “you didn’t. i just… i hate seeing you like this. you act like you don’t matter, but you do. you matter to me.”

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his dark eyes searching yours. then, slowly, he lifted a hand out of the water, his fingers brushing against your knee. it was such a small, tender gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, the water growing cooler as his breathing slowed, the exhaustion finally taking hold. you didn’t move, didn’t dare disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the room. he looked so different like this, his usual hard edges softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

as his head grew heavier against your thigh, you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “get some rest,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’ve got you, frank. i’ve got you.”

and for the first time, he didn’t argue.

taglist form in pinned post, just added frank castle ><

[manhandlememando]

reading warnings on fanfics sometimes has me like:

[chellestrash]

Let me handle it.

Frank Castle x F!Reader

summary: After a long day at work you FINALLY get home and Frank decides to offer some help with redirecting your frustrations. warnings: strong language, explicit language, explicit content, pet names, praises, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex. word count: 3.8k an: Hey heeey, me again...trying to get out of my writers block LIKE ALWAYS! I stg there isnt a fic on this blog that isn't my attempt to try and get back into writing but anyway. This was just something short and sweet I wanted to get out to hopefully get the gears moving again. Let me know what you think! I know the ending feels a bit rushed but I hope its alright. Reblogs and feedback appreciated as always! Hope you'll enjoy! OH and of course, thank you @chelseasdagger for helping with this one and im tagging @lucy-sky cause she requested that!

You push the front door open and sigh loudly at the sight of your apartment. The 8 hours of work felt particularly long today, and you swear at some points you weren't really sure if 5pm was actually going to come after all. The tiredness fills every inch of your body to the point that some parts actually, physically hurt as you get your coat and boots off before making your way over to the living room.

“There she is.”

Frank sits on the big couch in front of the TV, his ‘work’ clothes still on, so you assume it hasn’t been long since he got back as well. He looks better than you feel, though, one leg on the floor, the other propped up on the small coffee table. The TV remote is still in his hands, but you notice how he turns the screen off the second he notes your presence. 

Looking up at the sound of his voice, you do your best to smile in response, but the content expression fails to reach your eyes, and you turn your gaze back to the wooden floor before answering.

You mumble a quiet greeting under your nose and walk past the couch, past him and into the small now, thank god, dark bedroom. 

Frank frowns, turning his head as he watches you cross the living room and disappear behind the bedroom door. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something is clearly off. It’s not like you two cling to each other the second you step through the front door, but he knows something about the way you act today just doesn't feel how it should feel. He grunts, pushing himself up from his spot on the couch, and makes his way over to the bedroom.

Back in the small room, you attempt to get rid of your work clothes as fast as possible, longing for the simple yet unmatched comfort of one of Frank’s basic t shirts. You pick the one laying by the end of the bed, the one you knew he currently slept in, and softly pull the work shirt up and off over your head before ditching your bra too and tossing it off to the side. You can't be bothered to clean it up, not right now, probably not tonight. With the t shirt now on, you sit at the foot of the bed. 

A loud sigh exits your body as you attempt to take your pants off, but for some reason, the task proves harder than it would be on any other day. You fight with the fabric for another moment, frantically waving your legs back and forth with no avail before hiding your face in your hands, ready to dig the nails into your flesh with all the pent-up frustration of the week. 

“You need help with that?”

You drag your fingers down your face and turn to face him.

Frank stands in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he leans onto the door frame, and you hope he wasn't here long enough to witness your meltdown. 

“I don’t… know.”

You admit, the overwhelming frustration wins over the slight embarrassment of the previous moment. 

Frank nods before pushing himself away from the door frame. He walks over to the bed without a word, and before you can try to explain yourself, you watch him get down on one knee in front of you with a grunt.

“Alright.”

He mumbles softly, fully kneeling in front of you now. Holding your calf softly in one hand, he pulls the fabric of your pants down your leg before switching to the other one. You watch silently as he gets rid of the clothes for you before tossing them off to the side, to be dealt with at some point during the week. 

“That better?”

He asks softly, and you nod, your body relaxing at the sensation of his fingers brushing up and down the back of your calves softly. 

“Work?”

He asks carefully, feeling the need to figure out what was wrong, but not wanting you to have to think about it again.

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly and nod once more, confirming his previous suspicion. 

“Want me to go out there…make sure this shit is sorted?”

The question makes you chuckle, and you breathe out a quiet laugh as your eyes find his again. He never looked away from you. 

“You gonna go beat the shit out of my boss?”

You finally speak up, pushing your fingers through Frank’s short hair, feeling it prickle your skin slightly as you do so. The familiar feeling somehow grounds you in the moment as you feel more present than before. 

Frank scoffs at your words, looking off to the side for a second before turning back to face you. That god-damn cocky smile makes you smile back at him almost instantly. 

“That what you want?”

He moves his hands up, fingers now brushing over your thighs as he pushes forward slightly, you spread your legs open some more to fit his wide frame between them. 

“I mean if you’re offering.”

You joke, and he breathes out through his nose quickly, shaking his head with a semi playful smile.

“Yeah, okay, you got it, kid.”

He mumbles before leaning down to press a kiss onto your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let out a quiet hum, the wet warmth of his lips present on your skin for a long couple of seconds before he finally pulls away. 

“How ‘bout I make you feel good? Hmm? That sounds okay?”

His voice rumbles through your body as he moves closer to you and the bed, gently lifting your one leg up and over his shoulder before he does the same with the other one.

“Fuck.”

You start, already feeling how your body begins to react to him, the warmth between your legs slowly growing more prominent.

“You don't understand how much I’d love that right now, I just…”

He stops, stops immediately and waits to hear you out.

“I’m too fucking tired to move, Frankie.”

“Who says you gotta do anythin’?”

The way he answers makes it feel like the most obvious thing in the universe, like how he doesn't understand how you could've thought of it in any other way than him giving you all he can offer.

“Shit, you think I’m gonna make you ride it or something?”

He looks up at you from where he's kneeling by the bed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, as if he genuinely can not believe you’d think that.

“Think I’m gonna make you get on your knees? Suck me off and tell you you’re doing a good job, hmm? That what you think?”

You laugh, shaking your head, knowing he would never make a situation like this about himself. Yeah, you two enjoyed it when things got rough during sex, and you enjoyed ordering Frank around just as much as he did with you, but you both also understood the timing and feeling of this situation. You knew not everything always worked the same, and so did Frank. “If you did, you’d get a fucking knee to your stomach, you got that?”

You state and Frank scoffs once again.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh before helping you slide your legs off his shoulder.

“Alright.”

He starts after pushing himself off the floor.

“Lay down, kid, show me how you want it.”

He gestures to the bed, and you give him a big, bright smile for the first time since getting home from work. Turning your back to him, you climb up to the top of the bed before dropping onto one of the big pillows. With a satisfied groan, you bury your face into the soft fabric and close your eyes for a second before pulling one of your legs up, bending it at the knee. The movement causes the fabric of Frank’s shirt to slowly slide down the slope of your back, exposing both your panties and your ass to the man standing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah? Like that?"

He asks in that deep, groggy voice, and you nod, rubbing your cheek against the pillow without bothering to open your eyes as you do so.

“Alright.”

He mumbles, and you feel the mattress dip under the weight of his body after a moment. You listen to your body, to its needs and wants, and push your ass out slightly towards him with a quiet, innocent moan.

Frank scoffs loudly, shaking his head as he climbs over you, his arms propped up on either side of your body as he holds himself up above you. 

“Thought you were too tired to pull that shit.”

He points out in a teasing manner, and you crack one eye open slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling up into a playful smile.

“Oh no, I’m never too tired to be a pain in the ass to you.”

You mumble, somewhat to him, somewhat into the fabric of the pillow, before he breathes out a small laugh and leans down to press a kiss right on your shoulder. You watch as the muscles in his arm tense when he's pushing himself up again.

“Yeah, okay, you gonna let me do this or do you want to keep being an ass?”

You grin at the word and glance back at him, but he cuts you off before you manage to say anything.

“Don’t, do not fucking answer that.”

You laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly turns into a deep grunt when Frank pushes his hands against your ass. You feel his fingers digging into your body when he squeezes you tight, and you lift your hips up slightly, pushing into his touch. 

“Yeaaah, s’what I thought, you like that?”

You hum softly and hope it’s enough of an answer as the firm grip on your body disappears for a second, just to come back a moment later. 

“I got you now, kid, s okay."

He grumbles, pushing your legs apart some so he can sit in between them, right behind your ass. Pushing the hem of your shirt up, he gently brushes his fingers over your back. His hands make their way to the sides of your body, fingertips brushing up and down your ribs for a moment, and you let out a loud sigh.

“That’s it, good girl, again.”

You repeat the deep breath in and a calm exhale, allowing him to lead you through this, this one time. Dragging his hands lower and lower down your body, Frank works his fingers over your skin. The firm but gentle sensation of his touch spreads from your back and sides to your ass, then lower onto the back of your thighs and then calves when he reaches his arm behind his back. 

“Mmmm, Frankie”

Your hips push up once again when his thumbs dig into the spot right under your ass, and he breathes out a laugh. 

“Yeah, okay.”

You don’t have to explain it to him, he knows how to read your body. Slowly dragging his thumb over the fabric of your panties, he slips his four other fingers between your legs, cupping your pussy over your underwear. 

You whine quietly, your eyes still closed as he begins to draw small circles against your most sensitive spot, the tension in your body releasing into his touch. 

Humming quietly, you snuggle into the pillow, letting yourself fully relax now as the stress of the day leaves with your satisfied hum.

“Yeah? This what you like? Hmm?”

You push yourself back into his hand, leaning harder into his touch as an answer, and Frank tightens his hold onto you in response. The intensity of the sensation rises as he pushes his fingers harder against you. 

The tired, but honest smile on your face indicates how good of a job he’s doing. Well, that and the way the fabric of your underwear dampens more as the minutes pass by.

“Frank-“

You mumble out quietly, reaching your hand behind your back and hooking your fingers under the hem of your panties.

His touch disappears immediately as he pulls his hands away from your body, letting you dictate exactly what happens. 

He watches you fiddle with the fabric for a moment before you quickly tug it down your thighs and assists once it gets stuck behind your ass.

“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, show me what you want.”

You push your ass up slightly with an inpatient sigh once he slides the fabric down past your ankles and tosses it off to the side.

Once again, his big, warm hands find their way to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he takes a moment to massage your muscles in your back, and then you feel him push the fabric up higher to tend to your shoulders as well. Feeling the bulge between his legs press into your ass the second he leans down to trace the back of your neck with his lips, you hum satisfied, eyes still closed, lips curled up into a smile. 

“Really, Frankie? That much?”

You tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head with a sly smirk still on. 

“Yeaaah yeah, shut up.”

He starts before leaning back down, his lips right by your ear this time. His hand pushes down between your legs, touching you directly now, and you know he can feel your body’s response to the whole thing.

“Really, kid? This much?” 

You huff out a laugh as a response and reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his wrist and keep his hand in place. 

“Not like it's my fault.”

You mumble quietly and hear Frank’s chuckle from behind you.

“Okay, calm down, just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want to feel good.”

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“Want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Another nod before you feel Frank’s hand push under your body and cup your chest firmly. His thumb brushes over your nipple as his lips brush down your spine, over your back. Feeling your body slow down, you allow yourself to relax properly as the warm, familiar feeling grows stronger between your legs. 

He pushes his hand right there again, touching you right where you long for it the most.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum quietly, as his three fingers push between your folds before he starts tracing circles around your clit. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling, your body finally relaxing after the exhausting day. Maybe in some other circumstances your mind would slip. If you were alone, if you tried to distract yourself on your own, your mind would wander, but not now. Not with Frank right there in the bed with you. He made it…difficult to focus on anything else, knew how to keep your mind occupied, how to prevent your thoughts from wandering where you didn't want them to go. 

His touch strengthens, and you feel your back arching slightly with a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

“Ah-fuck.”

You grunt the moment his fingers slip inside you. 

“Shh shh shh-”

Frank mumbles quietly, pushing them further in with ease thanks to your body’s intense reaction to his generous attempts to help.

“That okay?”

His low, groggy mumbling continues while he pushes his thumb against you, working on your clit as you feel yourself clenching around his thick fingers. Frank grunts loudly, watching your involuntary response to his question.

“Yeaah, s’what I thought.”

“Mmmmm-you’re pushing it.”

You whisper and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Shit, am I- hmm?”

He lowers the tone of his voice to match yours, leaning back down with his lips right by your ear yet again.

“Just tryna make you feel good, baby.”

He reassures you, watching your lips part as you feel the center of his palm push flat against your center, the wet sounds of your body filling the room slowly as he begins to slip his fingers in and out of your body once, twice, and again, again and again.

You hum loudly this time, biting into your lower lip before you angle your lower back up slightly in an attempt to chase the sensation every time he slips his fingers out almost completely. 

“Frank-”

You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb harder against your clit. 

“Mmm, Frank-”

You repeat yourself with a loud moan before your muscles tense up, and you use the built-up force to push your ass back into him when you feel him slip his three fingers out of your pussy again.

“Ah- Fuck!”

He groans at the unexpected feeling, panting loudly when your ass pushes against the bulge in his pants, and you feel his tight grip on your thighs once you push into him again.

“Shit- okay, okay-”

He does his best to focus once again, and you breathe out a laugh, entertained by the slight shift in the dynamic.

“You okay there, Castle?”

You purr, glancing back to watch the way his eyes focus on your ass, feeling his hips buck up into you slightly. 

“Shit-”

Letting go of your thigh, he reaches up, quickly grabbing one of the pillows lying by your head before lifting your hips up a couple inches above the mattress and sliding it right under your body to help with the angle.

“Good?”

He asks, glancing up at you, the big, brown eyes fixed on yours as he awaits your answer for a moment before you nod quickly. 

“Couldn't have done it better myself.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he drags his hand down your back, stopping right above your ass.

“Yeah no shit-”

You roll your eyes at his words and rest your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes one more time. The sound of the metal buckle of his belt travels through your entire body, and you feel a slight tingling sensation between your legs. Pushing them apart softly, you earn yourself another

“Oh, fuck-”

From Frank, as he now gets to properly see the fruit of his labor. You lay in front of him, naked from the waist down, your legs spread open, your pussy wet from how he touched you before. 

“God damn it, kid-.”

He whispers quietly under his breath. 

“You know how perfect you look? Hmm?”

He asks, working his hand under the waistband of his boxers to pull himself out. 

“I ever tell you that?”

“Once or twice.”

You tease, answering the question without opening your eyes, arching your back slightly to make sure he gets a good view. 

“Ffff-”

You glance back this time, the wet sounds convincing you the view would be worth it, and it is. You watch for a moment as he works his hand over the length of his cock, his lips parted as he pants loudly with every other stroke, his fingers wrapped tightly around his length.

Gradually slowing down the movement, Frank holds onto the base of his cock, lining himself up with your exposed center. You hum softly, and your hips rise off of the mattress the moment you feel the head of his cock between your legs.

“Mhmm, just like that.”

You whisper to encourage him, with a slight note of impatience in the tone of your voice. 

“Yeah? So..s that what you want me to do?”

“Frank.”

You warn him, knowing exactly where this is going.

“What if I just-”

He continues.

“Frank, don't you f-”

He cuts you off, pushing his cock in between your folds and your whole body jerks forward at the sudden, unexpected sensation accompanied by a loud moan that slips past your lips.

“Fr- fuck!”

You swear, gripping the bed sheets before pushing your ass back against his cock, feeling it rub over your center, between your folds and nudging at your sensitive clit. 

Frank laughs loudly, louder than he should in your opinion, considering this was his–and his only–fault. 

“Shiiit kid, didn't mean to get you this bad.”

He attempts to calm your body, his big hand resting on your lower back as he continues to slide his cock in between your folds, teasing your entrance and clit with every single one of your now sped up breaths. 

“Frank, this- isn't helping.”

You whine out, listening to your body, desperate to feel him inside now.

“Give- shit, give me a second here, kid, this-”

He pants louder now, his other hand on your ass, spreading you open for a better view. 

“I swear to god if you come before I get to feel you, I’m sleeping alone.”

He scoffs loudly, hanging his head low as he stops touching himself. 

“That a threat?”

He questions your intentions with that sly smirk on his face, and you prop your chest up slightly.

“Wanna find out?”

You glance back, eyebrow raised.

“Nah, won't risk it.”

He states quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard between your legs. 

“You scared of me, Castle?”

You mumble the question out as you lay back down on the big pillow, feeling the head of his cock right at your entrance now. 

“Yeah, actually, how did you know?”

“Luck guess.”

“Yeah?”

He continues the conversation, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You let your lips part, fall open as you feel him deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the way it stretches you open, a familiar feeling you got used to since being with Frank. 

“That good? Hmm?”

He asks quietly, leaning slowly over your body as he thrusts into you.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum out a confirmation as the movements continue, you feel your body rocking back and forth with his body, with the bed. 

“Good, wouldn't wanna be on your bad side.”

The thrusts grow stronger as he reaches up to hold onto the headboard, grunting loudly as you clench around him. 

With his cock buried deep inside you, you manage another response.

“Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The trusting continues for a while after, as he tries to do his best to keep it together long enough for you to feel satisfied. His other hand wraps around your throat at some point, and he lifts your head up slightly. Your breathing speeds up, and you pant loudly through your parted lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the climax.

"Attagirl, you feel it?"

He asked, no cockiness in his voice this time. It's an honest question, he sounded almost concerned.

"Mhm."

Your quiet hum has to work as an answer for now as you grip the bed sheets tighter, feeling his cock nude the underside of your stomach from within you.

"God damn it, kid-"

He mumbles into your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin when he feels your walls clenching around him harder now.

"Frank-"

"Shh shh shh, I got it."

He reassures you, resting your head back onto the mattress before reaching down between your legs.

"You just relax, kid, let me do this for you."

[insidekatmind]

Mine~ Frank Castle

Wearning:+18,smut,cheating,manipulation,

age-gap,dark.

Request: yes!

You wake up suddenly, your heart pounding against your ribs. The room is dark, the air cold and damp. Outside, the rain beats hard against the window, the pounding sound accompanying your unsteady breathing. You shift on the thin bed, the rough sheets scraping against your skin. You feel dizzy, confused. You don’t remember anything. How did you get here?

You rub your eyes, trying to clear your thoughts, when the metallic sound of keys jingling catches your attention. Your gaze immediately shifts to the door, which opens with a slow, sinister creak. The light from the hallway illuminates an imposing figure.

Dark eyes, cold and calculating, watch you expressionlessly. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Headache?” His deep, raspy voice breaks the silence. Frank Castle.

You immediately tense, fear tightening in your chest like a suffocating knot. You shouldn’t be here. Not with him. You're Matt's girlfriend. And Frank knows it.

You try to get out of bed, but your legs are shaking. He stomps into the room and closes the door behind him. The click of the lock makes you jump.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice shakes, but you try to stay calm.

Frank tilts his head, his eyes unreadable. "You already know the answer." He approaches slowly, hands tucked into his jacket, breathing deep and controlled. "Daredevil wants you. He protects you." He pauses. "But I... I took you."

You feel the wind knocked out of you. You know Frank never does anything without a reason. If he's taken you, it means you're important to him. But there's something in his gaze that confuses you, a dark intensity that pins you to the mattress.

"Matt is coming for me." Your voice is more confident this time, even though inside you are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Frank kneels beside you, his face so close you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “Let him come.” A fleeting smile curves his lips, but his eyes don’t soften. “But I warn you, I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

You freeze, a shiver running down your spine. There’s something wrong with those words, yet you can’t deny the way his gaze holds you captive. As if you were already his.

And maybe, in some disturbing way, a part of you fears that you are.

“You're crazy,” you whisper.

His eyes roam over your face, studying you like a hunter who has caught his prey. “Crazy? Maybe.” He reaches out slowly, his fingertips tracing the contour of your cheek. You shiver at the touch, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “Maybe I’m just tired of watching Daredevil have everything.”

His words echo in your ears, sharp and painful. But there’s something in Frank's eyes that makes you believe there's a twisted truth to his words.

His hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers tangling in your locks. You feel your breathing quickening, your body responding to his touch against your will. “I see how he looks at you, so full of love, so full of faith.”

His face is dangerously close to yours, his gaze delving into your own. “But I wonder…” He pulls your hair, making you crane your neck, bringing your face within an inch of his. “Has he ever touched you like this?”

You feel a strange blend of fear and excitement creeping over you. His words ignite a mixture of conflicting emotions, a whirlwind of sensations in your chest. Matt has touched you, he's touched you in every way possible. But he has never touched you like that.

Frank doesn't wait for a response. His hand slides under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You’re his everything. His greatest weakness. You know that, don’t you?”

His expression has darkened, a hint of possessive anger glinting in his eyes. “And me… well, I’ve become his greatest threat.” He leans in even closer, his breath hot on your cheek. “Because I want you. More than he ever did.”Your heart is drumming so hard against your ribs it hurts. Frank's touch is intoxicating, his words both terrifying and exciting. He speaks of Matt like a rival, and that makes you feel like a prize to be won.

“Why me?” you ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

His hand moves down to your neck, his fingers exerting a gentle pressure. "Because you're beautiful. Because you're delicate. Because you're his." He pauses, his gaze almost dangerous. "And because I can easily imagine you in my bed."

The idea of it should repulse you, but instead you feel a wave of heat coursing through your body. This is so wrong, but something about being desired so fiercely, so intensely, makes you feel wanted in a way you've never experienced.

Frank takes advantage of your confusion and climbs onto the bed, straddling you. His powerful frame dwarfs you, trapping you under his weight. His legs are on either side of your hips, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re terrified. I can see it in your eyes.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch deceptively tender. “But you’re also excited.” His hand finds its way to your thigh, his fingers tracing small, maddening circles on your skin.

His words are almost like a spell, a dark and forbidden magic. Your body betrays you, responding to every touch of his hand, to every nuance of his voice. You feel trapped in a web of conflicting desires. “Please…” you begin, but his hand moves to your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhh…” He leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear. “No need to speak. Your body is telling me everything I need to know.” His hand moves higher, his fingers slipping under the edge of your t-shirt.

“So smooth, so soft.” He runs his hand over the bare skin of your stomach, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you. “It’s a crime that someone else gets to touch you like this.”

His touch has become rougher, more demanding. His hand slides over your hip, pulling you against him, making you feel every inch of his body. There's a hunger in his eyes that makes you scared, but also incredibly drawn.

He leans in, his lips brushing your neck. "You shiver. You're trying to fight it, but you can't resist." He whispers against your skin, his beard scratchy and rough on your sensitive flesh.

"Stop... please," you manage to gasp, but your voice is weak, unconvincing. His hand moves to the small of your back, pressing you even more firmly against him.

"Why should I stop?" he growls, his mouth finding the soft spot just below your ear. "Why should I stop when everything about you is begging me to go on?"

His teeth grazing your skin, biting softly. His breathing becomes more ragged, his arousal evident. The fact that he wants you, so fiercely, is terrifying and exciting in equal measure. "I'm Matt's..." you breathe, but your body betrays your words, arching towards him.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above your collarbone. "Matt's," he repeats, a harsh, almost cruel edge to his voice. "Yes, you're Matt's. His pretty girlfriend. His weakness. But you're mine now. I'll make sure of it."

His hand moves higher, pushing your t-shirt up your chest, fully exposing your stomach. His fingers trail over the soft curves of your body, as if mapping every line, every contour. "Such perfect skin. Such a perfect body."

He tugs at your bra strap, his intention obvious. "Take it off," he orders, his voice deep and commanding. There's an authority in his tone that leaves no room for disobedience. But your mind is clouded by confusion and desire, a mixture of fear and excitement that sends your thoughts into a dangerous spiral.

Your body obeys before your mind can protest. Slowly, almost as if in a dream, you lift your arms, allowing him to pull the t-shirt over your head. You're left in just your bra and skirt, exposed and vulnerable. His eyes roam over you, burning with lust. "So goddamn beautiful."

He leans in again, his lips finding your neck. This time, his kisses are rougher, more commanding. He bites your skin, his teeth sinking in just enough to hurt. Every touch, every nip leaves a mark on your soul, tearing apart the last shreds of rationality.

He pulls at your skirt, his hands roughly pushing it up your thighs. "You're mine now, princess," he growls, the possessive tone making your head spin. "No one will ever have you the way I will."

His hands on your thighs, your breath coming in ragged gasps. It's all so wrong, so wrong, but there's a dark, twisted part of you that's loving every second. "Please," you manage to gasp, your hands clutching the sheets in an attempt to anchor yourself.

He chuckles, his laugh short and dark, almost sinister. "Please? You shouldn't ask for things you're not even sure you truly want, princess." He leans in even closer, his lips brushing your ear. "But I'll tell you a secret."

He pauses, his breath hot in your ear, and then whispers, "I'm going to take everything I want from you. And you're going to let me."

His hand moves to your hip, gripping hard enough to leave a mark. "You're going to be mine. Compliant, submissive, desperate for my touch." His words are like a dark spell, a twisted prophecy. And you're helpless to stop the spiral of desire and fear he's pulling you into.

His fingers move under the edge of your bra, hooking into the fabric. "I'm going to make you forget all about Matt. I'll make you mine, and no one will ever take you away from me."

Frank breaks your bra making you jump and he immediately attacks your breast with his mouth.

He nipped and sucked at your sensitive skin, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses and bites across your chest. his hands roamed over your body, his touch rough and possessive.

"you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough with desire.

His words and touch set your skin ablaze, every nerve ending firing in response. It was pure bliss and torment, a mix that left you gasping for more.

He moved lower, his mouth finding the side of your hip. His teeth scraped lightly against your flesh, sending a shiver through your body.

He moved lower, his tongue tracing a path down your stomach. His hands were strong and sure, keeping you from escaping even if you had the strength to. His touch was both gentle and demanding, and you found yourself unable to resist the sensations he was igniting in your body.

Frank lifted your leg, his hand gripping your thigh possessively as he moved it over his hip, pulling you even closer to him.

"you're so responsive," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "i love how you respond to me."

His words were like gasoline on a fire, stoking the flames of your desire. His touch was both gentle and demanding, his body pressed against yours.

He moved even lower, his mouth finding the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. His teeth grazed lightly over your flesh, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake. It felt so good it was almost painful, your body aching for more.

Frank could feel your body responding to him, your breath quickening and your skin heating up. he smirked against your skin, enjoying the effect he was having on you.

Hecontinued to kiss and nibble at your thigh, his hand still holding your leg up, giving him better access. he moved closer, his mouth hovering just above your most sensitive area.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice rough with desire. "all flushed and needy for me."

His words and touch were like magic, sending a surge of heat through your body. The sensation was overwhelming, but you found yourself unable to move away from him. He held you captive with his touch, and you didn't want to escape.

His mouth was so close to the place you wanted him the most, and you couldn't stop the little whimpering noises that escaped your lips. It was so wrong, so dirty, but it felt so right. You wanted more of him, all of him, and he was taking it without hesitation.

He chuckled darkly, loving the sounds you were making. he loved the way you were so desperately responding to him, and it only fueled his desire further.

Frank finally moved his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue flicking out to taste you. he reveled in your taste, the way you arched against him, begging for more.

Frank smirked against your skin as you moaned loudly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. he continued to work his tongue and lips against you, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub.

He lifted his head for a moment, looking up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "you taste so good," he said, his voice rough with desire. "i could eat you up all night."

His words were like molten honey, sweet and sinful at the same time. Your body was responding to him in a way you had never experienced before, completely at his mercy. You could feel him everywhere, his touch, his breath, his words all blending together into a delicious, heady mixture that made your head spin.

"Oh God, Frank..." you panted, your voice weak and raspy. "Please... don't stop."

Frank's smirk widened at your words, clearly pleased with your reaction. he loved the way you were falling apart under his touch, completely surrendering to him.He continued to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers digging into your thigh possessively. he moved one hand up to your stomach, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin.

"I won't stop," he said, his voice a low growl. "not until you're completely mine."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a combination of excitement and fear. You knew he was dangerous, but you couldn't help your body's response to him. He was awakening something within you that you didn't even know existed.

His mouth and fingers continued their ministrations, driving you to the brink of insanity. You were barely aware of anything but him and the sensations he was creating in your body. You were completely his, and he was making sure you knew it.

Frank could feel your body tensing and quivering under his touch, and it only fueled his own desire even more. he loved the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered yourself completely to him.

he pushed two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm. his mouth continued to work on your clit, alternating between sucking and nibbling. he wanted to drive you wild, to make you come undone completely.

"You're so close," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel it,come for me."

His words and touch were so intense, it was like electricity coursing through you. It was nothing like you had ever experienced before. You were teetering on the edge of something powerful, and Frank was the one who controlled it all.

His fingers were magical, working their way in and out in just the right way. And his mouth... oh God. It was like he had a map of every sensitive spot on your body. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you beg for more.

Frank could feel your body starting to shake, the signs of your impending release growing stronger with each passing moment. he could tell you were close, and he was determined to make you fall apart completely.

he increased the pace of his fingers, curling them inside of you to hit that sweet spot. his tongue continued to work on your clit, flicking and sucking in just the right way. he wanted to see you come undone, wanted to see the pleasure written all over your face.

"That's it," he said, his voice low and ragged. "come for me, baby."

His words sent a jolt of desire through you, making you arch up off the bed, pushing yourself closer to him. You were so close, right on the verge of release. You could feel it building inside of you, a pressure that was almost unbearably strong.

"Frank...please..." you gasped, barely able to form a coherent thought. "I can't... I can't hold back."

Frank grinned against your skin, loving the way you were falling apart under his touch. he loved the way you begged and pleaded for him, the way you surrendered yourself completely to him.

he pulled away just long enough to speak, his voice low and rough. "Then don't hold back," he said. "let go, baby. let me make you feel good."

he increased the pace of his fingers even more, his fingers hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. he wanted to feel you come apart completely, to feel you shatter around him.

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. His words were filthy and demanding, but you didn't care. You wanted him, needed him. You needed to let go and give yourself over to the pleasure he was giving you.

"Please... please..." you panted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop... don't, don't..."

Frank could feel your body tensing even more, your words becoming more desperate. he loved seeing you like this, completely at his mercy. he couldn't deny your pleas, not when you were begging him so beautifully.

He sucked hard on your clit, his fingers thrusting into you faster and harder. he knew you were close, so close to the edge. he wanted to push you over it, wanted to see you fall apart completely.

You could feel the tension building within you, a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Every touch, every word of his was driving you higher, taking you closer to that sweet release you craved.

It was all too much, too intense. Your body was trembling, your breathing ragged and unsteady. Frank knew what to do with you, knew how to make you feel better than anyone ever had.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease..." you chanted, your words barely intelligible now. "Please Frank...I need to...I can't hold back any longer..."

His words and touches were driving you mad with desire, the heat in his gaze was almost too much to bear. He was so demanding, so possessive, and you couldn't help but respond to him. Every fiber of your being was attuned to him, and you couldn't get enough.

You were teetering on the edge of something powerful and wild, and you knew you were just seconds away from tumbling over the edge. You couldn't resist him, not when he was like this. You needed him, wanted him, had to have him.

That's it," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let go, baby. I want to see you fall apart."He leaned down and bit down on your thigh, leaving a mark on your skin.

As he bit down on your thigh, you cried out, the pain mixing with the unbelievable pleasure he was making you feel. It was a heady combination, one that made you feel alive in a way you never had before.Frank smirked against your skin as you cried out, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. he loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way your body responded to his every movement.

He continued to bite and suck on your thigh, marking you as his own. he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers.

His fingers and mouth were doing things to you that you'd never experienced before. He was taking control of your body, making you feel things you didn't even know were possible. It was like he knew you better than you knew yourself, like he could see straight into your soul.

As he bit down on your thigh again, the pain and pleasure mixing together in a delicious cocktail of sensations, you knew you were totally at his mercy. You were his, body and soul, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Frank's eyes widened as you came, your body arching off the bed and your voice echoing in the room. he continued to move his fingers and mouth, prolonging your orgasm until you were completely spent.

he watched you closely, drinking in the sight of you coming undone under his touch. he loved seeing you like this, loved being the one to make you feel so good.

Your body trembled and shook as he continued his ministrations, prolonging your orgasm. Your body felt completely boneless, your mind unable to focus on anything except the sensations he was causing. Each touch of his fingers was like a spark, electric and sensual. His mouth moved gently on you, soothing the pain from the marks he'd left on your skin.

You were completely overwhelmed, completely blissed out...and completely his.

There was no going back now.

[darlingshane]

little things

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having a bad day, thanks to your period, but Frank showing up earlier than expected changes that completely.

CW: fluff, crack, hurt/comfort, happy frank, he's still in the marine corps, mention of getting shot, period mention, pet names, cuddling, watching tv.

A/N: Just a little something I wrote the other day while I was having some bad cramping.

Word Count: 1,1k

— Links: AO3 // Frank Masterlist

“You sound a little cranky,” Frank said on the phone, his voice cutting off over the sound of an announcement coming out from the airport speakers and the urgent buzz of people rushing in the background.

It wasn't his fault you were feeling like crap when he called you. Your period showing up at the most inconvenient time of the day was the one responsible for your terrible mood. You only wanted to grab your stuff, leave work, head home and borrow the couch for the rest of the day but alas you still had half a shift to go through before you could do that.

“I have to go back to work, Frank. What did you want again?” You're sure he said it when you picked up the call a couple of minutes ago, but your brain refused to hold onto that information.

You heard him scoff at the other end before saying. “I said I just landed. I'm about to get into a cab.”

“Right now? In New York? Thought you weren't coming back till next week. I was going to pick you up.”

“It's okay, sweetheart. I got an early leave. I'll tell you about it later. Do you want to go out? Maybe grab a bite, go to a movie or something to celebrate?”

“I uh… I’m not feeling well today. I'm sorry. Can it wait till tomorrow?”

“Sure, baby. What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Just everyone's favorite time of the month when your uterus decides to shed itself.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry baby. How about I pick you up? We could order some food and watch one of your shows. Would that make you feel better?”

“You just got home, Frank.” You paused, letting out a long sigh. “You don't have to do that. It should be me. I had this whole thing planned, I was going to surprise you, and now it's just ruined.”

“It's okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of you today. You can still surprise me when you feel better, okay?”

“Okay,” you resigned, bummed about the fact that you couldn't welcome him properly after months without seeing him.

When Frank picked you up from work a few hours later you almost broke in his arms. It was hard to believe he was here. Missing him had become something normal that you got used to. It wasn't until he was in front of you that you realized how much you did miss him. Capturing the scent of his skin when you buried your face in the crook of his neck brought you to tears. You fit your palm at the back of his nape, it was recently shaved, and you could feel the skin under the short, pickling hairs.

Frank held you tightly against his chest, keeping you from tumbling down. It was easy to tell he was dying to see you just as much.

He drove you home where he had prepared a whole thing for you to relax. On the coffee table he had set up a fresh pepperoni pizza from your favorite joint, a bowl filled with candy, and a second bowl filled with tampons, pads, and painkillers that made you laugh. On the couch, your heated blanket was already waiting for you. Frank offered to draw you a bath first, but you didn't feel like soaking in the tub right now. You just put on your pj's, sat on the couch, curled between Frank's legs with all your creature comforts around while you picked one of your favorite shows to binge—Gilmore Girls.

“You forgot to tell me why they sent you home early.” You remembered once your cramps started to ebb.

“Shit, you're right. I forgot too.” He moved slightly at your back to collect something from his pocket. “Here.”

A small metallic thing was hiding between his fingers that he offered to you. It was a bullet without its shell casing. You were quick to recognize from the crash course he gave you once about handguns.

After inspecting the bullet, you glanced at him over your shoulder.

“I'm confused. What’s this?”

“I got shot. That's why they sent me back.”

“What?” You shifted to the side to survey an injury that wasn't visible. His arms, neck, and face were intact. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I'm fine. It was a couple of days ago. I thought about calling, but I didn't wanna worry you. It wasn't that big of a deal. Just one asshole getting one lucky shot.”

“You should've called me, Frank. I'm already worried every time you leave.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

“Where were you hit?”

“Well, that's the funny thing.” His lips curled up.

“Why?”

“I got shot in the ass.”

“Get out of here.” You nudged him with your elbow. “Not my favorite money-maker.”

“No, it's true.” He chuckled.

“Okay, show me.”

“Uh-uh, we're watching this.” He pointed at the flat screen. “You promised Lorelai and Luke would get back together in a couple of episodes. I'm invested now. I need to see that happening.”

You paused the episode.

“Nope, you don't get to see that until you show me your ass.”

“Fine,” he scoffed and stood up, turning around and undoing his button to pull his jeans and underwear down. On the curve of his right cheek there was a small piece of gauze taped to his skin.

“Did it hurt?” You asked, peeling the tape carefully.

“Nah, it was just a bee sting.”

You grimaced at the sight of his skin stitched together. It wasn't that bad but for some reason it hurt you more than it hurt him.

“One lucky shot, huh?” You uttered, covering his injury. “They should make Kevlar plates for your ass.”

“Hey, at least it wasn't my dick.” He quipped, buttoning his pants.

“Oh, that would be a tragedy. Don't joke about that.”

Frank laughed as he sat back down in his former spot at your back.

“Anyway, you got one hell of a keepsake.” You rolled the bullet between your fingers.

“Brought that one for you. Thought you like to keep it.”

“Me? I don’t want your crusty ass bullet,” you huffed as he locked an arm around you, pressing his cheek against your jaw.

“No? What do you want then, Miss? Diamonds and flowers?”

“Not necessarily diamonds but I’d take a ring.”

“A ring, huh?” He picked up your left hand and massaged the knuckle of your ring finger. “You’re right, your hand is looking awfully bare without a ring. I’ll see what I can do about that.”

“You know I’m joking, right?”

“Well, I’m not. Next time, it’ll be a ring I promise, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

You gazed at him over your shoulder, and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

[strawhbrrries]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’kay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Welcomed Distraction

Summary: Going to the club with your friends almost ends badly until a stranger (Frank) saves you opening up your night to something completely different than what was planned.

Characters: Frank Castle & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59621380

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v, no use of Y/N, female reader, little to no plot, etc.

Notes: This is day 6 to go with this kinktober list. The prompt I chose was Anonymous Sex. A few people requested me to write Frank, so here it is. I hope you like it!

What was supposed to be a fun night out with friends at the club turned pretty scary for a short period of time. While out on the dancefloor, a man had started dancing with you. What you thought was innocent turned extremely forceful. It had started as small flirting. That was something you were used to, but then the man had gotten too touchy and started saying incredibly vile things when you were turning him down.

Thankfully there was someone at the club that was strong enough to take the man that was trying to assault you both physically and verbally down a notch. Somehow he had seen what was going on and ran to your aid. By how easily your rescuer took that man down, you assumed that he had to be a fighter. It was like watching someone throw a ragdoll around.

Your savior’s first worry was getting that freak out of the club and that’s exactly what he did. Dragged the man right out with ease. Your friends were impressed and wanted to see the guy that attacked you get thrown around as easily as he was. By the time your hero returned, you finally got a good look at him.

Dark hair, big brown eyes, chiseled jawline and a charming smile that took your breath away. You’d love to say that you were only enchanted by him because he saved your life, but the truth was? He was a very good-looking man. And the fact that he saved you? That just made him hotter in your eyes.

You offered to buy him a drink for helping you, but he was quick to turn you down. Telling you that he did it because it was the right thing to do. Not because he wanted something in return. So that’s where the two of you left things. It was left at only a thank you before you went off to be with your friends.

Is that how you wanted things to be? No, of course not. You wanted to talk to him. Thank him. Get to know him, but you were pulled quickly from him. But that didn’t keep you from looking at him from afar. And the nice thing about it? His brown eyes were locked on you all night. Even though he was seated at the bar, it didn’t stop him from watching you.

There was something about it that turned you on. Even if he was watching you to keep you safe and make sure that asshole from earlier didn’t return, you liked that he was keeping an eye on you. Part of you tried to focus on being with your friends, but you couldn’t get your rescuer off your mind. After a few more dances with them, you managed to sneak away to head toward the bar.

With you approaching, your hero turned to face you as you grew closer. Once you stepped before him, he gave you a weak smile and it had your heart fluttering in your chest, “Are you okay?”

Maybe this was a brazen movement that you shouldn’t have been doing, but you were. You already made up your mind and there was no changing it. Outstretching your hand, you held it out before him. It had his brown eyes lowering, a smirk tugging at his handsome features.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Accepting your hand, he allowed you to pull him up from where he was seated. Tugging him forward had your breath catching in your throat with how close he now was to you.

Licking his lips, his eyelids grew heavy with him staring down at you. Your breathing grew louder, as you nodded your head toward the other direction. Leading him through the crowd of people with his fingers hooked with yours, you felt a sense of bravery doing this. Thankfully he wasn’t denying you. Because then you would have felt a little silly.

Reaching the stairs that went to the lower level, you knew there was a less busy bathroom that was down there that not many people knew about. Stealing a glance back over your shoulder, you saw that his eyebrows were arched with curiosity filling his features.

Stopping before the bathroom, you looked around and then pulled open the door having him follow you in. Making sure that you were alone, you moved around him to lock the door. As you turned on your heel, a long exhale fell from his throat. Just looking at you, he knew what you wanted. And that made him smile.

“You don’t even know my name,” he pointed out with you stepping in closer to him. Closing the distance between the two of you, you stopped when you were right before him. Dragging a single finger down over his chest had him exhaling loudly.

“You don’t know my name,” you reminded him, caressing your hands up over his chest. It caused the material of his black button down to raise slightly showing you his incredibly toned hips that laid beneath with a delicious looking v-line that led to the top of his pants. “Does that really change anything?”

“I suppose not,” he slurred, finally lifting his hand to caress his rough fingertips in over the side of your face. Instinctively, you turned into his touch. Pressing a faint kiss at the inside of his palm had his breathing growing louder. “This isn’t why I saved you…”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to turn it down,” you replied back, sucking at your bottom lip. Starting to open his black, button-down shirt caused your face to grow hot with excitement. With each button, it revealed his perfectly smooth, muscular torso. Getting the material separated, you pushed it down his shoulders allowing it to catch at his biceps. Ghosting your fingers over his chest elicited a sharp breath of air from his parted lips. “You are a work of art.”

“I’m not,” he stammered, his brown eyes hooked on your every movement when you finally flattened your palms out over the broadness of his chest. His long eyelashes fluttered to a close and he seemed to be very receptive to every touch. There were scars over his body that when you stroked over them had him trembling against your touch. It made you wonder what they were from, but you weren’t going to ask considering the situation.

“Yes you are,” you hushed him, moving in closer to press kisses over the scars over his otherwise perfect body. In that moment his hands grasped at your hips, his head lowered down for him to pepper wet kisses over your jawline. Moaning against his flesh caused his back to arch closer to you and you wondered if this was the first time someone had cherished his body as it was in a long time. “If you don’t think you’re a gorgeous man, you are highly mistaken.”

Stroking over his body again led your eyes to see the ring that laid at the center of his muscular chest on a black string he wore as a necklace. You wanted to ask about it, but you instead kept your mouth shut and went back to kissing over the center of his chest. This man was beautiful. His chiseled torso told you that he worked hard to have the body that he did. Dragging your fingers down over his abdomen, you couldn’t help but trace at the hard lines of his rippled body making him hum with your touch.

Reaching the top of his pants, you began to unhook his belt and started to lower to your knees, but he was quick to stop you. Shaking his head, he lifted you up to your feet taking your breath away at how easily he did it. Cautiously he lowered you down onto the sink and curled his arms around you to pull you to the edge of it.

“After what you’ve been through tonight, I don’t think that’s really what you should be doing,” he insisted, licking his lips when his eyes connected with yours.

Closing the distance between you, his lips grazed hesitantly over yours. Your eyes came to a tight close, enjoying the warmth of his breath over yours. The soft drag of his tongue over your bottom lip had you whimpering as he flicked his tongue at your top lip. Collecting your lips in a kiss, he let it linger to test if you were comfortable with him. Purring out gave him the okay to brush his tongue out against yours. The way he loosely grabbed your jaw had you breathing unevenly as he continued to trace lines over your lips with his tongue. Your whole body was shaking. That surprised you. But that’s how much of a mess he was making you.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but you were okay with that. You liked the way he kissed you. The way that his hands slid up over your thighs under your dress. When he gave your thighs a firm squeeze it had you mewling out. Your attraction to this man was higher than it probably should have been. You didn’t even know him. He was right about that, but you didn’t seem to care.

Biting at your bottom lip, he urged you to lean back when he reached up underneath the dress you were wearing to grab a firm hold of your panties. Taking his time pulling them down, he let his lips hover over yours in a teasing fashion. Right now? You never wanted someone more.

Getting the material to your ankles, he was quick to push your panties into the pocket of his black slacks that he was wearing. Leaving you with one final kiss, he knelt down before you. Almost immediately his lips were over the inside of your thigh. Each kiss was a hot, opened mouth one that left your skin wet. Occasionally he would nip at your flesh, with his hands pushing at the bottom of your dress to get them up further over your hips.

Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he buried his head between them. A soft sweeping motion of his tongue was felt over the length of your sex. It had you grasping to the sink, desperate to hold onto something. Kissing at your heated flesh had you dropping your head back against the mirror that was behind you. If there was one thing he was good with, it was certainly his mouth. There was something about this man’s tongue that drove you crazy. From the shapes it drew around your clitoris to the way it delved into your entrance pulling out sensations from you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Panting out, you lifted one of your hands to sink your fingers into his hair. Hungrily he pleasured you, seemingly wanting to have you crying out with his actions. And he was getting that. His actions had you a shaking mess in what felt like no time. For someone who didn’t know you, he seemed pretty determined to make you feel good. Pretty quickly he got you to an orgasm with his mouth and his fingers that had sank into your body with ease.

Standing up slowly, he dragged his fingers across his lips in an arrogant fashion. Shakily reaching out, you unhooked his belt and tugged at the material haphazardly. You were eager to get to the next part even though you could hardly breathe after the euphoric sense of pleasure he had already put you through. The loud booming of the music from the club could still be heard and you felt like the hammering of your heart inside of your chest matched the beats. Quickly getting the buttons open, you tugged at the material bringing the zipper down in the action.

Dipping your hand between the material and his body, you went in search of the root to his masculinity. Curling your fingers around the shaft had him burying his head against the side of your neck, his breathing growing louder and broken. Stroking your palm over his flesh, you worked to make sure he was rigid in your grasp. Getting his jeans down to the bottom of his ass allowed you to see his hard cock that sprung free from behind the material. It made your mouth water. You wouldn’t have complained getting to give him a blowjob, but he had other things in mind.

Tugging you closer to him, his hands cupped at your ass before he reached between the two of you to grab a hold of himself. Your arms hooked loosely around his shoulders, eager to be close to him. There wasn’t much fooling around with him leading his cock to your opening and thrusting forward. Your body was willing and ready, taking him into you with ease.

Moaning out, you were in awe of the way the lines in his forehead grew. His mouth agape and his eyelids growing heavy. His left hand reached up to grasp at your chin while the right hooked beneath your thigh. Firm thrusts had you bouncing up and back toward the mirror. Winces fell from your throat with every movement. This was so dirty and you were loving every minute of it. Every deep plunge of his body inside of yours had your fingers digging further into his shoulders.

Dragging your hands down, you squeezed at his flexing biceps loving the facial expression he made while he pounded into you. This wasn’t an emotional connection between the two of you. This was sex between two strangers. So you were perfectly okay with how hard he was rolling his hips up toward you.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, his nose burying against the side of your neck. Smack after smack of your flesh filled the tiny bathroom. You were thankful that the music was in fact so loud because that meant people wouldn’t hear the noises that he was drawing out from you.

Unexpectedly he picked you up in his arms and it had you gasping out. Wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, he carried you over toward the corner of the room slamming you up against the wall. From his strength alone, it was turning you on more than you could ever imagine. How tightly he was holding onto your body might have caused marks later, but you welcomed them.

Meeting his mouth in hungry, forceful kisses aided to everything going on between the two of you. In this position he was hitting everything in all the right ways. His brow line was creased, winces falling from his throat with every upward bounce of his hips toward you.

“Don’t stop,” you encouraged him to keep up with what he was doing, clasping tightly to his hair and pulling him closer to you. Rewarding him with whines and moans, you dropped your head back once he got you to another orgasm. With your eyes closed, it enhanced the sensation of his lips over the side of your neck pampering your flesh.

“Shit…” he pulled his lips from your neck, looking down between the two of you. The way your tight walls were contracting and relaxing around his cock had him desperate to reach his release as well. Lowering you down to your feet, he kept one of your legs wrapped around his waist with his thrusts extremely rough thrusting you back against the wall of the bathroom.

Clinging tightly to him, you dropped your hand and squeezed at his fleshy bottom enjoying the way that it flexed with every movement he made. Winces were escaping his throat, a roar of a moan following with his hips starting to falter from beneath you. There was a warmth that was pooling out into you, the throbbing of his cock evident when he reached his orgasm.

After filling you with the final line of his cum, he allowed your foot back down to the ground and you stroked at the sides of his face, “What’s your name?”

“Frank,” he whispered pressing his forehead to yours. Together your breathing was uneven leaving both of you panting. Hooking your fingers with his, you didn’t know what to ask him. “Frank Castle.”

“What were you doing here Frank Castle?” you wondered, stroking your fingers through his wet hair enjoying the way it made his eyes close with him leaning into your touch.

“Watching someone for work, but I got distracted,” he alerted you with his long eyelashes fluttering to an open. “Distracted by you.”

“Did I ruin work for you?” you frowned, whimpering out when his softening cock pulled from your body. The dripping of his cum down your inner thighs had you shuddering when he shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry to have distracted you.” "

“I’m not,” he hushed you, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip collecting the wetness over it. “In fact, you were a welcomed distraction. I was in need of one.”

[houseofpsychoticwomxn]

Cowboy!Frank goes out of his way to greet you every morning — ignoring his own rules of professionalism and emotional avoidance to give a courteous wave and nod in your direction, trying to avoid the soft ruffled fabric over your skin that taunts him from the front porch and keep his eyes locked on the work in front of him.

Cowboy!Frank can feel your gaze on the side of his face, disguised by the book in your hands that’s been on the same page since the moment he stepped out of his truck. he’s no fool, he could smell the mischaracterized innocence from a mile away, and if he didn’t know any better he might’ve fallen right into the carefully construed idea you’d painted of yourself. but he does know better.

Cowboy!Frank knows how to control animals, how to communicate with his hands in a way that every element of the farm can understand, it’s all second nature to him. the only unsure part of himself is the one devoted to keeping his distance from you — from anyone with the undying ability to mean anything to him. it’s better this way, a friendly space between the two of you keeping his self-control tied up in his own rough, cracked palms.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello my dear! So excited for Kinkfest! Could I please request praise kink & size kink with Mr. Sex-On-Legs himself, Billy Russo? 😍

Thank you so much for requesting, everyone seems to like size kink with this man!

Masterlist

A soft touch

Contains: Protective Billy, violence, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, P in V, fluff.

1.3K words

Billy is very gentle and sweet, at least with you he is.

Billy was so proud, the charity auction you had put on for Curt's group had raked in more than enough to keep the doors open and butts in seats for months to come. To make matters even better, he got to stick to the rich assholes who acted like donating a few bucks on their out of the Anvil office was saving humanity.

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulders as he whispered into your ear. "You did good tonight gorgeous."

You craned your head and kissed him, and his fingertips grazed your cheek as he spun around to pull you close. "You wanna get out of here?"

Billy grinned. "Fuck yeah."

He took her hand and led you outside, but before he could open the car a shout stopped you both in your tracks. "Hey, baby why don't you leave the pretty boy and have some fun with me?"

Billy went stiff as a board, placing you behind him so he could stand between you and the yelling man. "Billy, let's just go."

You didn't have time, the man was already swagging over, his drunk gate wobbling as he walked. You wrapped your hand around his upper arm and tried to pull him, but it made no difference. "You should listen to your girl buddy, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself getting into a fight you can't win."

You tended to forget how tall Billy really was, how imposing his height could be with just a change in his mood because he never gave you a reason to notice it. "Go the fuck home, I won't ask again."

Damn alcohol and its effects because all the man did was laugh and rear his fist back. Billy didn't even need to think to stop it, he just dropped the man with one punch. He watched the man get up and hobble away, ignoring the string of obscenities that came from his mouth. He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the car door and helped you inside. "Sorry about that gorgeous."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, looking over his bruised knuckles as he smiled down at you. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Yep, that guy was nothing."

He pushed your door closed and climbed into the driver's seat, kicking the car over as his hand found your tight. "Let's go home."

****

Billy placed his folded suit jacket over the chair back and cleaned his bruised hand in the sink before walking behind you and unzipping your dress. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You nodded. "Twice."

He kissed a path from shoulder to shoulder across your upper back, ending up kissing a line from shoulder dome to neck until his lips were at your ear. "Then let me tell you again, you look beautiful."

Your dress fell to the floor, and he walked in front of you, stretching his hand out for you to take so you could step out of the pile. He walked you to the edge of the bed and paused, his eyes moving up and down your body to take in the lacy set of lingerie. "I'm am the luckiest man on the planet."

You unbuttoned his dress shirt as he slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, licking his lips at the newly revealed skin when it hit the floor. He stilled for a moment, his fingers drifting down your chest until his thumb was circling a nipple with the softness of freshly fallen snow, and then the air caught, and his lips slammed into yours. There was a rush to shed the rest of your clothes, and then you were scurrying up the bed with Billy hovering over you.

He was rock hard, his long, thick cock standing attention as the tip leaked with his arousal. His lips were on yours again, all lust and heat and his massive hands grabbed at whatever flesh he could reach. It was hard to know where to touch, there was just so much of him that it left you spoiled for choice. His back rippled under your hands as you dug your nails into his skin when his lips sealed around a nipple, your head falling back into the pillows as heat filled you.

The other one got the same treatment and soon enough, he was pressing kissing all over your abdomen on his way further down. He lifted your legs over his shoulder and kissed every inch of your thighs that he could reach before looking up at you through his long eyelashes. "Can I?"

"Yes please."

You loved the way he held you when he did this, his forearm thrown over your hips, keeping you still while he licked at you like he wanted to win some prize and the other holding your thigh, his fingers pressing into the skin in indistinct patterns like he was typing out a code. A gasp caught in your throat as the hand on your thigh moved towards your centre, his fingers slipping under his lips as he slid them inside you.

His thumb replaced his mouth, and he looked up at you with a soft smile. "Does that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Yes." His lips were back on you as he stroked your G-spot with his calloused fingertips as you wove your hands into his hair. Pleasure zipped up your spine with each pass of his tongue and curl of his fingers and you yanked his hair as he moaned against you. "Billy.." He groaned an affirmative, and you held him to you as you came, him riding the wave with you until your hips stilled against the bed.

He pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand before kissing a line up your body to your lips. He took your face in his face, resting his forehead against yours and smiled. "You're so good for me." You spread your legs and he settled between them, gripping his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit. "Can I?"

"Yes please." He didn't leave you waiting, sliding home with a grunt as he hiked your legs over his waist with one hand.

He buried his face in your neck as he started to rock his hips, his voice tight with pleasure as he spoke. "My good girl, I love you so much."

He shifted angles to hit your G-spot as he picked up sped, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to suck at your neck as he ran one hand downwards, between your bodies to rub your clit. His lips broke away from your flesh so he could gaze into your eyes, his face filled with affection as he watched your expression fill with pleasure. "Can you give me another one?"

You gasped and nodded with each hitch of his lips, and he smiled. "I know you can." Your nails dug into his back as the edge approached and he kissed you again, nibbling your lower lip as he pushed you into a spine snapping orgasm. "Good girl."

He shifted again, putting his weight onto his hands as he chased his high. With one last thrust, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he kissed you softly. He rolled off you, moving onto his back to take you with him so your head rested on his chest. "Thank you gorgeous girl."

You sighed. "I should be thanking you."

He smirked and pressed his lips to your temple. "No, you have no idea how much I love you."

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his firm chest. "I do, and I love you too."

He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. "I'll run you a bath in a bit, I just want to hold you a little longer."

You laid your face on his cheek, and his eye fluttered closed. "I like the sound of that."

Fin

[bullet-prooflove]

Charge Sheet: Frank Castle x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lamaudite @a-noni-love @oh-no-thank-u @pleasurebuttonwrites

Companion piece to:

The Day We Met - Frank reflects on the path the relationship has taken.

Slow - You and Frank share a moment in the aftermath of your attack.

Angel (NSFW) - Frank has always called you his angel.

Rough (NSFW) - Sometimes you need it a little rough from Frank.

My Girl - Frank gets pissed when he sees you're injured.

Saint Michael - Frank returns a precious gift.

Black Ice Series:

Part One: Black Ice - Frank rushes home after hearing you've been in a car accident.

Part Two: Ice Pack (NSFW) - Frank loves you for the first time in months.

Part Three: Check In - You don't respond well to Frank checking in.

Daybreak - Frank finds it hard to let go of old habits.

Frank has a problem, it comes in the form of 5’4 Homicide Detective that’s just locked his ass up in the drunk tank because he was ‘interfering’ in her investigation. The thing is you warned him about this shit, about chasing your leads, scaring your C.I’s and Frank, he didn’t listen because he’s a stubborn asshole. When he sinks his teeth into something, he’s a dog with a bone, he doesn’t let go and neither do you.

He rubs his palm across his smarting cheek, the one with the gravel still embedded in it. You’re a vengeful little thing when your pissed off, his spine can attest to that from the knee you planted in his back before you cuffed him.

Nobody gets the drop on The Punisher, no one except for his scrappy little cop from Queens. He both loves it and hates it.

“What are you writing on the charge sheet?” He calls from behind the bars of his cell as you fill out his details on a clipboard because the system is down for the third time this month.

“Unrepentant asshole.” You respond and he has to give you that.

“We really gonna do this Neve?” He mutters, grasping the bars between his hands and giving them a light shake, testing their durability.

“Sergeant Rains.” You correct him, focused on the paperwork in front of you. “You lost first name privileges when you started fucking around in my crime scene.”

He pulls on the bars even harder, rattling them to get your attention. You tilt your head towards him and he can see that fire burning in your eyes, the one he fell in love with.

“Keep testing me Castle and I’ll put you with the Saint Paddy’s day assholes, the ones that are spewing green beer and God knows what else.”

As if on cue the sound of heaving erupts from the opposite cell, followed by the spatter of vomit on concrete. Frank backs away from the bars and sits on the edge of his bunk, his gaze still fixed on you.

“Good boy.” You murmur, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile as you return to the charge forms and Frank bites his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood because it this situation, it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.

“You gonna at least show me the crime scene report?” He asks, watching you sign the documentation before you set it on the Duty Sergeant’s desk for his return.

“That depends.” You tell him as you approach his cell and he raises to his feet to meet you at the bars.

“On what?” He murmurs as you stand within reaching distance. His fingers hook the belt loop of your jeans, drawing you into his proximity so that the only thing keeping you apart is the bars.

“On how apologetic you are when you climb through my window tomorrow morning.” You inform him and he tilts his head, giving you that FFS expression of his.

“You’re really gonna leave me here?” He riles, running a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. “I could be out on the streets helping you-”

“I was doing this job long before you Frank, I’ll be doing the job long after too.”

Those words, they fucking eviscerate him. You know it too from the savage expression on your face as you pull away, his fingers slipping from the belt loop. That’s another thing that’s on him, he’s made it clear to you that his presence in your life is temporary, that you shouldn’t expect a damn thing from him.

“Good luck tonight Castle.” You say with a two fingered salute as the guy in the cell across from him tosses his cookies again. “You’re gonna need it.”

Love Frank? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fluffyprettykitty]

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

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

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.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ quiet mornings !

↳ frank castle x reader

the soft hum of the morning radio drifted through the apartment as you shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep. the smell of fresh coffee hit you first, followed by the sight of frank standing at the stove, his broad back turned to you as he worked.

he was wearing that same worn gray t-shirt you’d been begging him to throw out for months. the fabric clung to him in places, showing off the muscles of his back and shoulders, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

“morning, frankie,” you mumbled, your voice still scratchy from sleep.

frank glanced over his shoulder, his expression softening when he saw you. “hey, baby, you’re up. didn’t mean to wake you.”

“you didn’t.” you padded over to the counter, wrapping your arms around yourself to ward off the early-morning chill. “what are you doing?”

he turned back to the stove, flipping something in the pan with practiced ease. “makin’ breakfast.”

your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you? cooking?”

he smirked, not bothering to look back at you. “don’t sound so shocked. i can cook, y’know.”

“you can grill,” you teased, leaning against the counter. “there’s a difference.”

“yeah, well, eggs and bacon ain’t exactly rocket science,” he replied, his tone dry but playful.

you grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the warmth as you took your first sip. the kitchen felt cozy in a way it rarely did, the early morning light spilling through the windows and casting everything in a soft glow.

“this is nice,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now.

“what is?”

“this. you. breakfast. it feels… normal.”

frank paused, his hand resting on the handle of the skillet. he didn’t say anything at first, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

“yeah,” he said finally. “it does.”

you watched him for a moment, the way he moved with quiet confidence, the way he tilted his head slightly as he listened to the radio. there was something grounding about having him here, in this small, ordinary moment.

“need help with anything?” you offered, setting your mug down.

“nah, i got it.” he glanced over at you, his dark eyes warm. “sit down. food’s almost ready.”

you didn’t argue, sliding into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table. a few minutes later, frank set a plate in front of you, complete with perfectly cooked eggs, crispy bacon, and a slice of toast.

“wow,” you said, impressed.

he shrugged, sitting across from you with his own plate. “told you i could cook.”

you took a bite, and to your surprise, it was actually really good. “okay, i stand corrected. you’re a regular gordon ramsay.”

“don’t push it,” he said with a small smirk, but there was a flicker of pride in his expression that you didn’t miss.

the two of you ate in comfortable silence, the clink of silverware against plates and the low murmur of the radio filling the space. every so often, you caught frank glancing at you, his gaze lingering like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

when you were done, you leaned back in your chair with a contented sigh. “i could get used to this.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. you, me, quiet mornings like this. it’s nice.”

frank looked down at his plate, his hand idly toying with the edge of his fork. “don’t get too used to it,” he said softly. “you know it ain’t always gonna be like this.”

your chest tightened at his words, but you refused to let the moment slip away. “maybe not,” you said gently. “but that’s what makes mornings like this so special, right? we don’t have to think about anything else. just… this.”

he looked up at you then, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you said with a grin.

he shook his head, a small, almost shy smile playing at his lips. “you should.”

after breakfast, you insisted on cleaning up, shooing frank out of the kitchen despite his protests. he hovered near the doorway for a while, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed as he watched you wash the dishes.

“you don’t have to do all that,” he said after a minute.

“it’s only fair,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder at him. “you cooked, so i clean.”

he huffed a small laugh. “not how it usually works.”

“well, it’s how it works today.”

he didn’t argue, but when you were almost done, he wandered over and grabbed a dishtowel, drying the dishes as you placed them in the rack.

“teamwork,” you said with a grin.

“somethin’ like that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

when everything was finally clean, you turned to him, wiping your hands on a towel. “see? that wasn’t so bad.”

“yeah, yeah,” he said, tossing the dishtowel onto the counter. “you’re lucky i like you.”

you laughed, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist. “i’m the lucky one.”

he rested his hands on your hips, his touch warm and steady. “damn right you are.”

the two of you stood there for a while, the world outside fading into the background. it was in these quiet moments that you saw the side of frank he rarely let anyone else see - the man who carried so much but still found room for softness when it came to you.

“think you’ll make breakfast again tomorrow?” you teased, looking up at him.

he pretended to think about it, the corners of his lips twitching up. “maybe. if you’re good.”

“oh, i’m always good,” you said with a wink, earning a rare laugh from him.

he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his voice low and warm as he said, “yeah, you are.”

and just like that, the morning felt even more perfect.

ps please send frank requests i’m idea-less atm💔

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend]

Penny For Your Thoughts

Pairing: Billy Russo x F!Reader

I saw this gif and got super horny for Billy again, so this is what happened. You can also blame @becauseicantthinkwritings, @frying-panties, @dreadfulxives18 for encouraging me 😜

Warnings: 18+, minors do NOT interact, smut, explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, super dirty talk, use of pet names (darling, baby), Sugar Daddy!Billy vibes, oral (M receiving), PIV, reader has multiple orgasms, creampie

“Darling, my leg’s falling asleep.” 

You pouted, not that he could see, and snuggled your face further into Billy’s neck. You were sitting on his lap, with your butt mostly on one of his thighs, cuddling up to his chest. He was still dressed in a full suit and had merely sat down on the couch for a drink, but you’d crawled onto his lap. You needed to feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and just be close to him.  

You’d been lonely without him, spending the day feeling empty after waking up with his cock inside you. He’d left you blissed out, cum seeping between your legs. He wanted to clean you up, but he was late for work, and you assured him that you could clean yourself up. 

The sound of Billy setting his glass down shook you from your memory. “Darling,” he said again. He ran his hand through your hair and pulled on it slightly. 

You let him pull your head back so he could look at your face. 

“Hi, Billy.” You said. You hadn’t even spoken since he’d gotten back. You just needed to feel him.  

He smiled gently. “Hi, baby. I need you to get off my lap. I can’t feel my toes.” He let go of your hair and smoothed it back in place. 

“Kiss first?” You bargained. 

Billy grinned. “For you, of course.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. 

You pouted as he pulled away.  

“What’s that face?” he asked. He knew what it was, though. 

“Nothin’,” you said, knowing better than to push him. 

You got off his lap and slid to the floor instead, resting your chin on the knee of his other leg as he stretched out the one you’d been sitting on. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, looking up at his pensive face. 

“Just thinking about my day.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. 

“How was work?” You asked. 

Billy shrugged. “It was hard to focus, with the image of my cum leaking out of your little cunt constantly flashing through my head.” 

You felt your cheeks flush, but more pertinently, you felt arousal pool between your legs. You bit your lip for a moment, before you released it. “Maybe that’s something you need to see again.” 

A beautiful, sexy smirk took over Billy’s lips. “Oh? You think that’ll help?” 

“Maybe. Or maybe you need your cock in my mouth?” You trailed a hand up his leg and over his groin, which was starting to grow hard. 

He grunted at your touch. “Maybe I need both.” 

“Maybe you’ll get both, if you ask nicely.” You batted your eyelashes.  

Billy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I ain’t nice, though.” 

“Yes, you are.” You disagreed. You continued rubbing your hand along the outline of his cock over his trousers. “You bought me those shoes I really wanted last week, even though they were full price.” 

“They weren’t that expensive.” He grunted. 

“They were two grand.” You scoffed. 

“Pennies.” Billy quipped. 

“You wanted to take care of me this morning. Almost made you late for work.” You said, still trying to tell him that he was nice. 

“Well, had to do something for the excellent pussy I got.” He drawled. 

You rolled your eyes.  

“Well, you’re quite nice to me. You’ll never change my mind.” You said. Despite your many attempts to refuse him, Billy had been very generous to you. All the money he’d given so far had been used – in addition for pleasurable items like a new phone, or non-necessities like those designer shoes – for student loans, medical bills, and even your rent before you’d moved in with him. 

You unbuttoned his pants and did your best to free his cock, but he ended up lifting his hips so he could pull his trousers and underwear down his legs instead. You pumped him a few times in your hand as you gathered some saliva in your mouth, before you let it dribble out onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Billy said.  

You then lowered your head and took him in your mouth, moving your head down until your nose touched his skin. You let his cock tickle the back of your throat for a few seconds before you pulled back and started sucking on the tip. You teased the slit with your tongue and stroked him with your hand before you started bobbing your head. 

Billy groaned. “Now I’m remembering why I’m so nice to you.”  

The corners of your lips turned up, but you couldn’t give him the smirk you wanted to with his cock in your mouth. Billy always seemed to enjoy getting head from you, and with the way he treated and pleased you after, you didn’t mind giving it. 

It was difficult to take all his length in your mouth though, so you stuck to using your hand near the base to stroke and squeeze what you couldn’t fit past your lips. Every now and then you would stop to suckle and lick at the swollen head, tasting the precum that was starting to spill.  

Billy’s fingers wove into your hair, and you started to take him back in your mouth. You knew that he liked it when you struggled to take him all. 

“Lemme feel that little throat choke on my dick.” He said, voice thick with arousal. 

You fought your eyes from rolling back in your head as you felt yourself soak through your panties. You focused on breathing steadily through your nose, as Billy slowly thrusted his hips to fuck your mouth. Your fingers dug into the cushions of the couch, your pussy ached, but you let Billy use you. You wanted him to use you. 

You were finding it harder to breathe and were getting a little overwhelmed trying to continually disengage your gag reflex, and tears had started spilling down your cheeks. When Billy noticed, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Fuck!” Despite his roar, his rhythm slowed until he eventually pulled your mouth off him.  

Your used jaw hung open for a little bit, and some drool slid off your tongue and onto your lap before you could close your mouth. 

Billy delicately cupped your face and wiped away your tears. “Are you okay?” His voice was dripping with fake sympathy, but you loved it. 

You tried to speak, but you could only nod. “Poor thing. Your brain’s probably leaking out of your little cunt, just like your mouth. Can’t even talk.” 

You whimpered. You were so wet. Your panties were absolutely drenched. 

“Fuck, baby. Get up here, lemme fuck that wet little cunt.” 

Your legs were stiff from kneeling, but you sat down on the couch and pulled your dress off. Billy kissed you immediately, hands expertly ridding you of your bra and tossing it behind him, so he could twist your nipples with his fingers. One hand went up to wrap gently around the front of your throat and he pushed you so that you would lay back. 

He moved his kisses down your throat to your tits, giving both of your nipples a wet suck, before he kissed down your stomach. 

He looked up at you, his eyes menacingly dark with arousal. “I can smell you, baby, and I haven’t even taken off your panties.” 

“So wet. Just for you, Billy.” You whined. 

“Let me see.” He said. “Take ‘em off.” 

You lifted your hips and pushed your panties down and pulled them off your feet. You dropped your panties to the floor, a little embarrassed at how you’d soaked through them when all you’d done was suck his cock. 

Billy took one look at your glistening center before he slammed his cock inside you. He didn’t even bother to get undressed, but you felt the heat of his skin through his clothes. 

You gasped hard at the intrusion. Usually, he warmed you up with his fingers, so now it felt like he was splitting you open. “Fuck, Billy... ‘s too big.” You practically sobbed. You realized you were still a little sore from this morning. 

He gave one thrust, but then settled deep inside you and remained still. “What’s that?” He kissed your lips once, then your cheek, then began sucking on your neck. 

“You’re too big!” You whimpered. Your hands clutched at his suit desperately in an attempt to ground yourself. 

He chuckled into your neck. “You’re a big girl, you can take it. Can’t you?” 

You whined as he pulled back and pressed in again. He was everywhere, it was too much, yet you wanted more. 

He looked up at you and saw the single tear slipping past the corner of your eye. “Oh, darling. If you’re gonna cry, I can just stop. Don’t want to hurt the little baby with my big cock.” He kissed the trail left by your tear. 

He started drawing back, but you cried out, “No!” 

He held still, looking down at you with a smug smirk he was trying poorly to hide. “No? But I don’t wanna hurt your little pussy.” 

“Please, don’t stop. I can take it. You made me so wet, Billy. I can take you, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, cupping your cheek sweetly. 

You nodded vigorously. “Promise, I promise.” 

Billy tapped your lips with two fingers, and you opened your mouth immediately. You sucked on his fingers, lathering them with your tongue before Billy pulled them out. He used them to press against your clit, and your hips arched up into him and your cunt clenched around him. 

Billy grunted. “Such a tight little pussy. And it’s all mine.” 

You nodded in agreement. “All yours.” You sighed, enjoying the way he was stroking your clit.  

He started thrusted again slowly, but only for a few beats before he started fucking you earnestly. His hand abandoned your clit, so he could push one of your legs up against your chest and grip the arm of the couch in his other hand to allow him to rail you into oblivion.  

Little sighs and moans were leaving your mouth unconsciously. You wondered if they could be heard over the sound of Billy’s skin slapping against yours. You were certain that they could, when you gave a particularly high-pitched whine as the tip of his cock hit that precious spot inside you. 

Billy grunted. “Sing for me, baby. Let me take care of you. Like I always will.” 

His words were what drove you to your orgasm, even more than the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your walls. Your body did indeed sing for Billy as you came. 

Your vision kind of blacked out, and you could just barely hear Billy’s strained chuckle as he continued fucking you. “So gorgeous when you cum all over my cock like that. Your little cunt is fluttering all around me, baby. Feels so fucking good.” 

You whined, getting a little overstimulated by his continuous thrusts. “Billy.”  

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, Billy.” You couldn’t say anything else. 

Your vision came back into focus and there was a smirk on his lips. “I see your brain is still leaking out of your cunt.” 

You opened your mouth to try to speak, but his hand when back to your clit and you gasped at the contact. 

“Cum for me again, baby, then I’ll fill up your little cunt.” 

Your back was arching from the attention to your clit and the building of your second orgasm. Your bare nipples brushed against the smooth fabric of his suit jacket and the peaks tightened even more at the friction. Everything was too much. 

“Oh, don’t know if I can.” You mumbled. 

Billy kissed your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth to tease yours for a moment. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “You can, baby, I know you can. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, almost reluctantly. You didn’t want to do anything but please him. 

“Yes, you are.” He said proudly. With that, he started rubbing your clit rapidly and he didn’t stop until your walls were convulsing once again. 

“Oh, Billy, ‘m cumming.” You cried, fingers digging into his back. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby.” His rhythm stuttered a little bit before he gave some hard thrusts and came inside you. His hair was out of place and fell in front of his eyes, which were squeezed shut in his bliss. He’d never been more beautiful. 

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, so that he would settle against you. You needed his weight to ground you because you felt like you were going to float into space. Billy planted a few soft kisses on your cheek, jaw and behind your ear. 

He pulled away then, and you groaned when his cock slipped out of you. You watched him watch his cum drip out of you. His dark eyes sparkled. 

“Goddamn.” He said, his voice deeper than ever. 

You bent both your knees and brought them close to your chest, opening yourself up for him. You ran your fingers gently through your folds and swiped at your entrance. You brought your fingers to your mouth, glistening with the combination of your cum and his, and sucked them between your lips. You moaned, mostly for show. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You teased. 

Billy smirked. “You’re something else.” 

You released your fingers, smiling up at him sweetly. “Think that will help you be less distracted tomorrow?” 

He chuckled. “Definitely not.” He tucked himself back in his trousers. 

You grinned. 

“Come on, darling. Let’s take a bath.” 

“Can’t walk.” You said simply, not even trying to move. 

He shook his head, still grinning, but took you up his arms anyway. 

You smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Billy.” 

“Love you, too, baby.” 

~

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 😌

Taglist: @kayhi808 @idaoftheburningmind @quellmythirst  @kahlanmars @catherinnn  @crowssixof  @musicalggirl  @insssanemind  @loubombshell @misscaitygrace @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations

(please tell me if you want to be removed from my everything Billy Russo taglist, I just kinda look through everyone I have tagged on other stuff consistently)

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

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