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bellaxgiornata · 3 months ago

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You're My Safe Place

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

Warnings/tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, panic attack, mentions of Reader being teased for weight (and a couple other things), soft Frank

Summary: Frank and you are getting ready to attend your family's Thanksgiving dinner later, but the stress of the holiday season and the distress of seeing your horrible aunt has you nosediving right into a panic attack.

a/n: I've always wanted to write Frank comforting Reader over a panic attack so I slipped one in for this event. This is for anyone with a family member (or members) that are awful to be around now that the holidays are coming up. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

With both hands grasping the kitchen counter in a near death grip, you leaned over the countertop as you tried to stay focused on the coffee machine in front of you. You were tired, having woken up early to a string of anxious thoughts about the Thanksgiving dinner tonight with your extended family that Frank and you would be attending. But as the coffee began to brew with a soft whir, your mind continued spiraling like it had been doing since five this morning. Ever since you’d woken up in bed next to Frank, staring at his bare shoulder poking out from beneath the bed sheets, you hadn’t been able to stop the dread and anxiety about what horrible comments your aunt would subject you to at this holiday gathering. Especially with all of the stress you’d already been under with the holiday season now in full swing.

Breath coming in sharper, your hands gripped the countertop even tighter. Farther down the hall you could hear Frank moving around in the bedroom getting ready for the day, and as much as you tried to ground yourself in the familiarity of that, you felt yourself steadily slipping as your mind replayed all of the awful things your aunt had said to you in the past–about your age and lack of a husband, the fact that you were still childless, that your profession was a joke, and even making jabs about your weight. Your vision began to blur as her irritating voice rang clear in your mind, your heart pounding so heavily that you felt the resounding vibration in your throat. Your rib cage felt as if it had clamped itself around your lungs and heart like a vice, constricting them both tighter and tighter while you fought to take a single full breath.

A panic attack. You were on the verge of another panic attack. Teetering just right at the edge, waiting to topple straight into it.

But no–no, you couldn’t. Not here. Not with Frank just in the other room. He had never seen you like this before and you never wanted him to see you like this. He had enough to worry about already and you refused to be another reason for the crease between his brows. He didn’t need to know how much something so ridiculous affected you. But at the same time, you knew tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d be attending. Which meant it would be the first time he’d meet your aunt. The first time he’d be hearing the things she’d say about you.

Desperately you began sharply inhaling air through your gritted teeth, your eyes snapping tightly shut as you tried to get control of yourself. You just needed to focus, to breathe, to think about literally anything else besides the dinner and your aunt. But the harder you tried to fight it, the more her insults kept slipping through the quickly crumbling cracks in your mind.

You were falling into it now, too far gone. The memories of past family gatherings were surfacing now; her repeated passive aggressive comments at the dinner table about your plate of food, the Christmas gifts that were meant ‘to help you attract a man’ or ‘lose a few of those unnecessary pounds,’ the constant comparisons to her golden child of a daughter, the rude questions about your salary. Your body was curling in on itself as you kept struggling to fight off the sensation that was dragging you under. You were gasping for breath, hyperventilating and too deep in to pull yourself back out. With shaking, sweat-dampened hands, you tried to readjust your hold on the countertop as if it was some lifeline that would keep you grounded in the present. But with your eyes closed, your hand missed the countertop and accidentally bumped into one of the coffee mugs sitting on it instead. You’d opened your eyes just in time to see the white ceramic mug fall to the floor and shatter, the noise louder than that of your own ragged, sharp breaths.

That’s when you lost it.

Dropping to the floor in a heap, tears streamed down your cheeks as you pulled your legs up to your body, as if they’d somehow help to keep your heart from beating straight through your chest. Your nails dug into your calves, partially in an attempt to keep your legs firmly pressed to yourself, but partly because the sting of them biting into your skin helped to counteract the growing panic inside of you.

And that’s when you’d heard Frank’s thudding, hurried footsteps as he came rushing out of the bedroom and straight into the kitchen. With vision tinged in white at the edges, you struggled to look up at Frank when he paused at the entrance of the room. You could only imagine how you looked to him right now, huddled in a ball beside the shattered coffee mug, tears pouring down your cheeks as you continued to suck in shallow, gasping breaths.

He didn’t stand there long. In four quick strides he was on the floor beside you, a stern and almost unreadable expression on his face. But even in the midst of your panic attack, you could still see the fear and worry hidden behind his dark eyes. He was terrified and confused.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he ordered.

His hands hovered in the air between you both, as if he wanted to offer you comfort but he wasn’t certain if he should touch you. Your tongue darted out of your dry mouth to wet your lips as you attempted to concentrate, but the lack of proper oxygen to your brain with the way you’d been breathing was causing everything to become a haze. And with the way your breaths kept coming in sharp and shallow, there was no way you could get a word out.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Somethin’ happen? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You shook your head in answer to his questions, your entire body trembling against the kitchen cabinets behind you. There was no way you could form words right now, not with the way it felt like your throat was closing up.

Almost as if a light went off in Frank’s head a second later, realization dawned on him and his entire demeanor shifted. Immediately the urgency left his voice, his tone becoming something soft and soothing as his hands finally and gently landed on your shoulders. Though the concern was still apparent in his eyes, not something he could just push away.

“Relax, honey,” he said. “You’re alright. ‘S'just a panic attack.”

You nodded, breath still coming in sharp, short gasps. This wasn’t the first one you’d had, but that didn’t alleviate the fear and embarrassment that managed to surface within you at the moment. You didn’t want Frank to see you like this.

“Need you to take some deep breaths, sweetheart,” he told you. “In and out. Can you do that for me?”

Nodding again, you felt a few more hot tears streak their way down your cheeks. As Frank’s thumbs drew comforting little circles along your shoulders, his face hovering just a foot in front of yours, you tried to inhale a deep, shaky breath.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “Nice and slow. Don’t fight it, just breathe through it.”

Nails digging tight into your calves, you tried to focus on Frank’s face and his soothing words. Inhaling another ragged breath in, you tried to take a full breath while fighting the protesting burning in your lungs. Frank’s eyes remained fixed on you as you inhaled the breath, but his hands released your shoulders, both of them coming down to gently pull your fingers away from where they were digging into your calves.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Doin’ good.”

As you inhaled a few more sharp breaths, your tears gradually began to slow even if the trembling of your body did not lessen. The rough pads of Frank’s thumbs began soothingly stroking the back of your hands, the sensation helping to steadily draw you back to the present and out of your head.

“I’m–I’m sorry,” you gasped out.

“Shh, I’ve got you now. I’m here,” Frank murmured, pulling you in towards himself. “Don’t apologize.”

Clinging to him, your hands desperately grabbed at the back of his soft sweater as you buried your face into his shoulder. Your breathing was still shallow and uneven, your heart beating a little erratically in your chest, but you felt yourself little by little coming back out of the panic attack as you continued to follow Frank’s calm instructions to breathe in and out.

It was a few minutes before you finally felt yourself really calm down. You kept your face buried in Frank’s shoulder, embarrassment coursing through you. You couldn’t believe he’d just witnessed you have a panic attack, let alone over something so stupid.

“You good?” he eventually asked after a moment.

Nodding your head against his shoulder, your fingers eased their grip on his sweater, though you didn’t release your hold of him. “Yeah,” you quietly answered.

“What was that 'bout?” he asked.

You stiffened in his arms, afraid to tell him the truth. Tonight was the first family gathering of yours he’d agreed to attend, which meant he was bound to witness some of these comments firsthand. Even if you didn’t tell him about it now, you knew he’d eventually see it happening later.

“C’mon sweetheart,” Frank gently prompted. “Can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”

“It’s…it’s stupid,” you muttered into his shoulder.

“Not stupid if it’s got you this upset,” he disagreed. “Talk to me.”

Sighing, you turned and rested your cheek along his shoulder, keeping your eyes averted as embarrassment continued to flush your face. “It’s just…this Thanksgiving dinner tonight. I have this–this aunt that I cannot stand. She’s always stuck her nose into my personal business–and I mean real personal sometimes. And she makes these–” you paused, wincing, “–these horribly rude comments to me. Usually when it’s just her cornering me somewhere, but sometimes over the holiday dinners in front of everyone. And I–I just don’t want to see her.”

“Then don’t go,” he said. “We don’t have to.”

“I can’t just not go, Frank,” you replied. “I’d never see my family for holidays again if I simply just stopped going to family gatherings. And generally I enjoy seeing everybody else, it’s just–just her. And I’m…”

Your voice trailed off, your eyes focused on the shattered coffee mug still on the floor just behind Frank. Besides hearing the things she might throw at you this time, the other thing that had been bothering you recently was the fact that this time she would be making these comments in front of Frank. He’d be there to hear every jab she made about you, every comment about what a failure she thought you were or what she deemed wrong with your appearance. Right in front of him.

“You’re what?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, your eyes slowly closed before you answered him in a small voice. “I’m not looking forward to you hearing it.”

Frank’s large hands were immediately pulling your face away from his shoulder before turning it to look at him. You were met with a firm, fearsome expression, one that would’ve sent a shudder down your spine if you hadn’t known how soft he truly was beneath that gruff and intimidating exterior.

“She won’t say a goddamn thing with me there, sweetheart,” Frank told you, voice a low warning. “Promise you that.”

You smiled softly back up at him. “Frank, you can’t start a physical altercation at Thanksgiving dinner,” you pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But I don’t have to do that to get her to keep her mouth shut.”

An amused snort slipped out of you at his words, your mind racing through a myriad of possible situations of how Frank would keep your aunt from verbally attacking you this evening. Each scenario was just as satisfying as the next.

“Honestly, I don’t doubt that,” you replied before sighing. “And I know this…just seems like a dumb thing to get so worked up over but…her comments really get to me. Just every time I see her, she’s always twisting the knife. And then her words stick with me. Always have ever since I was little.”

Frank held you a bit tighter in his arms as he shook his head firmly. “Not alright with anyone talkin’ to you like that. Making you feel this upset,” he told you. “She’s already on my shit list and I haven’t met her.”

You couldn’t fight back the little laugh that bubbled out of you at the idea of Frank Castle putting your aunt on his ‘shit list.’ A tiny grin slipped onto his lips at the sound, a mischievous glint appearing in his dark eyes.

“I have a feeling you and her will not get along this evening,” you said.

“I’ve got that same feeling, sweetheart,” Frank replied, his grin growing. “But whatever happens, you know I’ll be right there.”

Smiling softly up at him, you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I know you will be.”

Frank pulled you back to his chest, his hands once more soothingly running along your back. When he spoke again, his voice a deep rumble, you felt a bit of the anxiety in your mind easing just a bit.

“Not gonna be alone tonight,” he murmured. “Be right there with you.”

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia

#frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle x you #frank castle #the punisher #Tuna-Tober 2024

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darlingshane · 1 year ago

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Professor Castle

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]

Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.

A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.

As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.

Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.

“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.

His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.

“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”

“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”

“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”

“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”

“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”

“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”

You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.

“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”

“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”

You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.

“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”

“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.

“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”

“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”

“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”

“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”

“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”

“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”

You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.

“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.

“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.

“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.

“Why are you so convinced I will?”

You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.

“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”

“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.

His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.

As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.

One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.

“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”

You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.

“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.

“Fuck yeah.”

Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.

“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”

He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.

“Yeah.”

For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.

“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.

Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.

The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.

“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.

We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.

To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.

You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.

“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.

“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.

“I missed you.”

“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”

You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.

“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.

“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.

“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.

You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.

“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.

“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”

“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”

“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”

“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”

“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”

“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.

“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”

“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”

“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”

“Yeah, you wanna come?”

“Only if you really want me there.”

“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”

“Then I'll go with you.”

You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #darlingwrites

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dameronology · 1 year ago

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home (frank castle)

warnings: a little bit of frank being depressed but that's about it. probably language too? i don't even notice anymore.

this is the first thing i've written in so long and it's very short buuuut i hope you like it

--jazz xx

You could always tell when Frank had had a bad night.

The signs were clear as soon as he got home. Boots thrown to the side with a loud thunk (he would apologise for the noise in the morning); body haphazardly hitting the mattress beside you as he let out a huff of exhaustion. Normally, his hands would be on you before he even in bed. He had to sleep with his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you, any signs of breaking free met with intense refusal until the morning. You felt safe but he felt safer.

Tonight was different. You heard the crash of shoes, and the thump, thump, thump towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you but instead of his hands, you were met with Frank's back to you. It was tense, littered with pink scars and red ones, and fresh cuts and bruises. You could have reached out, but you didn't want to push it. A few years ago, before you, before this, before he'd learnt love again, he probably wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed out til the crack of dawn, fighting, fighting, fighting; fists beaten to a pulp and every part of him rigid and exhausted to his very core. Frank had learnt now: when he got really bad, he had to come home. When the going got too tough even for him, it normally meant it was the end of night. You were just grateful he had come at all.

You said nothing; just a small sigh. For him, for you, for whatever the morning would bring.

10AM came quickly. It was a Sunday, so Manhattan was nice enough to wake a few minutes later than usual. The silence in your bedroom was quickly filled with the sound of horns and brakes and the yells of the outside world. You didn't have work that day, thank god. That meant there was no rush. Frank could rise whenever he wanted.

Except - fuck - you had forgotten to turn off your alarm. It came blaring out your phone as soon as the clock struck on the hour, vibrating across your bedside table and onto the floor with a loud thud. Frank, being the world's lightest and potentially most dangerous sleeper, quickly rose. His hair was getting longer now, so it was tuftier in the mornings. You would have laughed if your chest wasn't so heavy.

You quickly hopped out of bed, sheepishly picking up the phone.

"Shit," you muttered. "Frankie, I'm sorry."

He let out a grumble, rubbing his eyes. "It's okay. I had to wake up at some point."

"Are you okay?" you quietly asked. "I know you're not but...I gotta ask."

Frank didn't say anything - instead he just sighed. Then, he opened his arms and ushered for you to come back to bed. You did so without hesitation, dropping into the sheets beside him. Strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you to his chest, one hand cupping the back of your head. You'd always found irony in the fact that he had to be the one to hold you when he was upset. No matter how shit he was feeling, Frank was always the big spoon. His ability to protect you was the one thing he could control. It was the one thing that made him feel a little okay again.

"It was a really rough night," he quietly admitted. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I just wanna take it easy today."

Frank said nothing else. What he had said was beyond anyone else's wildest dreams; this was coming from the man who made a point of closing himself off, from refusing himself love and anything good. You were the only person he would ever say anything too. It was safe to assume at any given moment that he wasn't okay, but he was a little closer to it when he was with you.

The rest of the morning went like a ghost.

You moved around each other with ease; his small touches lingered - a hand on your back here, another on your hip there - and you could tell he was coming back around. Sure, he burnt the first three pancakes and didn't realise the milk was out of date til after he'd poured it into your coffee, but he was being Frank. You would have been more worried if he'd cooked properly or made good coffee.

You'd moved to the sofa by midday, dirty plates piled up in the sink and Max snoring on the rug in the middle of your living room. Die Hard was playing quietly in the background (Frank argued it was an all year round movie). You were sat between his legs on the sofa, large thighs either side of yours and arms wrapped around your front. He had his head resting on top of yours, giving you the occasional squeeze with his legs and arms.

"I love you," Frank quietly murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You turned your head to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry for being quiet last night. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"You don't have to apologise," you hummed. "I'm just grateful you came home."

"I'll always come home."

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle imagines #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fluff #marvel angst #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #frank castle x y/n

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farfromstrange · 10 months ago

Text

Now That We Don't Talk | Frank Castle x F!Reader

BONUS FIC

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Read Is It Over Now? for better clarity.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader (past Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

Summary: You go home with the guy from the bar, and he makes you forget about your ex.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "attagirl", slight Dom!Frank, song references, unprotected p in v, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: You wanted a part 2, so you're getting a part 2! Anyway, I don't write Frank often, so I hope it isn't too bad. It's also not as spicy as you probably expected, but I wanted this to fit the vibe of the previous fic (link above). You don't need to have read it to understand this, but it is highly recommended because some references might confuse you. Thank you all for taking part in this event!

You believed that your life had ended when you lost him. He painted your world in the brightest colors, but by breaking your heart, he took them away. All that was left to see was a boring shade of gray in a sea of sadness.

Matt told you from the start that being with him wouldn’t be easy. You were willing to try. He needed someone, and you wanted to be that someone to him. You accepted him unconditionally.

In the end, giving everything wasn’t enough. He chose her over you, and the castle you two had built came crashing down on you while he stood idly by.

You’re not a bitter person, you have never been, but he made you fall for him; he made you believe that there was hope for the future and that you would grow old together. He stole years of your life in which you were trying to save him from himself. In return, he took the best care of you, but that doesn’t matter much now that he has taken your heart and shattered it like a glass of red wine on a white cloth.

When you left him, you thought the distance would kill you. You truly believed that this was the end of everything, not just your relationship with the man you thought was the one but yourself as well. “This isn’t what it looks like!” he said the day you found out the ugly truth.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. The pain burned brighter than the sun, and it dried your eyes before they could even shed a tear.

He argued with you that, “It was just a kiss,” but you not once believed him.

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No.”

It was at that moment you lost all of your trust in him—in what could have been or should have been the two of you, forever—and it was also the moment that Matt realized he had lost you.

You believed that he took everything you ever were that day because your life revolved around him, and only him.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said, begging you not to leave.

“Fuck you!” you had never sworn at him until that day.

You still remember the way the necklace with his initial felt when you tore it off your neck and tossed it at his feet. He knew you better than anyone, and you felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That necklace was a symbol of your undying love, or so you thought, anyway. Now you know that he may have known you to some extent, but you didn’t matter enough for him not to climb into bed with his ex-girlfriend.

You couldn’t even look at the necklace. He told you, “This is a piece of my heart,” when he gave it to you on a snowy Christmas Day three years ago. You cherished it the same way you cherished his soul. He was broken, but he was your broken man. He was everything to you.

Matt Murdock was your moon, your son, and your entire universe. It all seemed far away that you could ever feel about anyone this way again.

You saw a future with him. Married, a house in the suburbs, and working with Foggy and Karen in their new law office after everything they’ve been through. You were a hopeful person back then.

Karen told you that he went to a party a couple of weeks after you separated. He didn’t look like himself. You wonder if he felt anxious, knowing his only source of comfort was no longer there. You wouldn’t know until you asked him, but you refused to answer his calls.

Part of you felt euphoric, knowing that he was broken too, but you also felt angry because he was the reason you found your heart beyond repair as he stepped on it like a burning cigarette, and in your mind, he had no right to feel this way.

You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock! I wish we’d never met.

“Another one for the lady,” a voice says beside you.

Your empty glass of tequila disappears and a full one slides in its place. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on.

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger.

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He gets up from his seat and sits down on the empty bar stool next to you. “You look miserable,” he says.

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand. You introduce yourself.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say.

You thought nothing and no one could pull you out of the dark hole your breakup tossed you into. You believed yourself dead and long beyond the point of redemption. You accepted it. You swallowed in your misery, giving up on finding a new purpose in your life because the one great thing you had was no longer yours. He fell into a grave that he dug for himself, and he dragged your relationship down with him.

Looking into Frank’s eyes now though, you no longer feel like a corpse. And you realize that you are not dead, not at all—you are very much alive.

The door almost breaks off its hinges when Frank shoves you into his apartment and back against it. The decision to come back to his place was fueled by a lot of alcohol and the way he looked at you. You were desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache that has consumed you every day for months. His eyes told you that he may be able to give you just what you need, no strings attached.

The way he kisses you breathes new life into your mangled soul. He swallows your mouth and your needy moans with his own, and his tongue forces itself down your throat as your teeth clash in a fight for dominance. You’re both tipsy, but he seems to know just what he’s doing.

His calloused fingers burn against your skin. In the back of your mind, Matt is still so present. His hands are the ones you can’t help but compare him to.

The way he used to kiss you before fucking you into the mattress for hours on end, switching between tasting and fingering you until you were whimpering and begging him for release might have screwed you up forever. He told you one night that he wanted to ruin you for any other man. Back then, you both still believed that you would grow old together.

It is truly ironic how fast things change when you are truly happy and believe that nothing can burst your bubble.

Frank’s large hands brace against the door on either side of your head. His lips disappear from yours. “Who is he?” he asks, his voice rough like gravel.

You meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. Your mind is everywhere but here, and yet it is right with him. Whether it is alcohol or self-loathing, you’re not sure.

“What?” you whisper.

“You’re trynna forget someone. Who is it?”

He is a lot more perceptive than you thought.

You swallow, blood rushing to your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” you didn’t what? Think? You feel utterly pathetic.

Instead of throwing you out though, like you expected he would, he reaches out to caress your cheek. His eyes soften as they gaze at you. “Whoever he is, he obviously didn’t treat you right,” he says. “If you want to go, I’m not stoppin’ you, but if you wanna forget whoever is fuckin’ with your head, I’ll make damn sure you forget his name by the end of tonight.”

There is something excitingly terrifying about the look in his eyes. A shiver runs down your spine, and your thighs clench at the thought of feeling his hands somewhere other than your face. Somewhere other than your hips and thighs. His kisses knocked the air out of your lungs. You want more, you need more, but you don’t know if you can take it. Not him—even though you’re also not quite sure if you can take him—but also the offer he is presenting to you. As lucrative as it sounds, fuck, you are not over Matt. And you’re not sure if you can ever forget him.

You want to though. You have to. And you want to be thoroughly fucked into the next day and forget the name of the man that makes you so fucking angry.

“Talk to me,” Frank coaxes your head toward him. “Do you wanna forget the useless bastard that made you feel this way?”

“Yes,” you manage a breathless whisper.

“Did he hurt you? Break your heart?”

You nod.

“You deserve better.” His grip tightens, and his hand slowly slides to your neck. “I’m not, but I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll forget his name and scream mine loud enough for this fuckin’ city to know who’s making you feel good. ‘s that what you want, hm?”

He’s dangerous, but that has never turned you off, even when it should have.

And when you finally open your mouth and tell him, “Yes, please. Make me forget,” the switch inside of him flicks completely.

He takes his time to worship between your thighs. His tongue buried in your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit without mercy. He eats you out roughly but sensually, keeping you spread wide open for him with both of his hands and a force unmatched—like a five-course meal, and he has all the time in the world for you.

You’re lost in the throes of pleasure. You want to buck your hips against his mouth because no matter what he does, you’re on fire and you just can’t get enough, but he is so powerful that you can’t fight him. He has you at his mercy, your body in his hands, and all the control in the world over you.

You pull at his hair, moaning helplessly as he feasts on your pussy. You’re going mad, you’re sure. He’s doing this on purpose, driving you to the edge before stopping the wave. Frank waits until your orgasm is just far enough for you to last a little longer, kissing the inside of your thighs, and then he dives right back into your wet folds. He thrusts his tongue into your hole, licks up to your clit, and then sucks on the swollen bundle until your legs are shaking in his hands.

“Jesus, Frank!” you moan out. A trail of sweat runs from your temple down to your breasts.

Your hands search for something to hold onto, tangling in the sheets and the pillow behind your head before pulling at the fabric. You tried pulling at his hair, but he wouldn’t let you.

“That’s right,” he growls. “Come for me.”

Your back arches off the mattress. His name leaves your lips in a desperate shout as your orgasm crashes into you.

“Attagirl.”

Your brain is hulled into an endless fog, but Frank doesn’t stop.

Soon, you’re on your stomach, gripping the headboard as he pounds into you from behind. He is long and thick, and with every thrust, he forces your face deeper into the pillows. Your eyes have rolled back into your head. He hits that spongy spot inside of you whenever he pleases, and the gurgled moans from the pit of your throat spur him on to speed up, change the angle and thrust even deeper.

He pulls out all the way, thrusting back into you with full force until he is completely sheathed in your pussy. Your heat consumes him, and he sees red. But so do you. He has reduced you to a few incoherent thoughts, babbling his name in the wake of the drool that is dripping from the corner of your mouth.

And when you come this time, it is pulled back straight against his chest with his fingers rubbing circles over your already abused clit. You come with a scream of his name, and nothing else matters but his cum in your cunt and the unbelievable depth of the feelings he is eliciting within you.

You drop to the mattress like a wet towel, covered in his and your cum, and your sweat that has mingled with his. His smell lingers in the sheets as you bury your nose in it. He collapses on top of you. The crushing weight of him offers a sense of comfort that almost makes you cry. And he holds you as though you mean more to him than a One-Night stand he picked up to help forget a man who broke her heart.

“What’d he do?” Frank asks into the silence later that night.

You are lying on his bed, covered by only his thin sheets. He’s sitting on the other side, nursing a glass of Bourbon. He held you, he cleaned you up, and he offered you some clothes, which you denied. He is kinder to you than you thought he would be, and it warms your heart in a way you can only deem utterly dangerous with how vulnerable you are. Broken people make dumb decisions, and you do not ever want to go through the same pain again.

At least you know that you are still desired. That you’re not dead. Perhaps, there is still hope for a better future. You made Matt Murdock your life for the longest time, and maybe, as you realize now, that was a mistake. There is more to life than him, and you can live without him. That it took fucking a stranger after weeks of being miserable baffles you, but some things are just meant to happen. Maybe it was destiny, after all.

You look at him when Frank repeats his question. “What’d the bastard do, hm?” he asks.

Where do you even start?

When you last checked in on him through your mutual friends—you know it wasn’t the best choice, but you couldn’t help it—they told you that grew his beard, and he last had a haircut when you were still together. It suits him, apparently, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at a picture of him.

Foggy told you that he isn’t taking home girls when they go to a bar, even though he could have all of them. He’s sad. He drowns himself at work and beats his fist bloody every night. The old you would have jumped up to help him. And it is true that you will probably always love him, in a way, but you refuse to crawl back to him.

The more you gave, the more he took, and at the first chance at getting a woman he claimed to no longer love when she came back into your lives, he took her. He couldn’t have wanted you as badly as he claimed if that was enough for him to flush years of loving each other and going through hell together down the drain, knowing it would break your heart into a million pieces. That is probably the worst part about all of it.

You take a deep breath. Frank is still staring at you intently, waiting for an answer. “He fucked his ex,” you finally confess. “Four years of being together and it still wasn’t enough.”

His grip tightens around his glass. “Want me to pay him a visit?”

You chuckle, but you know that he would. “No. But thank you.”

Matt was fading long before you left. Even if you did choose to forgive him, you couldn’t be his friend, so things are better the way they are now. You paid the ultimate price for sacrificing your heart to a man who had too many struggles to deal with himself.

In the silence, you find a little light. “At least I don’t have to pretend to like Jazz anymore,” you say.

Frank takes another sip, asking, “Jazz?”

“Yeah, Jazz. He loves it. He…He’s special. Well, he was to me, anyway.”

“Special? Fuck, the guy did a number on you, huh?”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

The only way back to your dignity is to learn how to be without him. You have to turn yourself back into a mystery and learn how to trust someone again before your fragile heart breaks again.

“You still talk?” Frank asks.

You shake your head. “No. It’s over now,” you say. “We don’t talk anymore.”

“Told ya. You deserve better.”

“Nah.” You reach for his glass, taking a sip of the bitter liquor that you used to despise. Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stretch his leg toward him.

You need to keep forgetting Matt’s name, no matter what it takes or the reminiscing will surely kill you.

“Right now,” you murmur with an irresistible smirk that makes him leap at you as soon as the words pass your lips, “I just need to forget he ever existed by screaming someone else’s name.”

Frank captures your lips in a bruising kiss, leaving you speechless and breathless all the same.

Matt chased you, he caught you, and then he lost you. And now that Frank has you, you never want to look back.

Now that you don't talk.

I don't have a tag list for Frank, so I'm just leaving this here.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle #the punisher #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #daredevil #charlie cox #from the vault #bonus fic #inspired by: now that we don't talk

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amhrosina · 2 years ago

Note

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?”

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress.

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?”

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly.

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet.

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders.

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance.

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth.

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @niki-is-a-thing @deactivating-this-blog @bxmaaa @kentdreamingspam

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celestialglow24 · 8 months ago

Text

••• Sharing the Bed•••

Frank Castle x AFAB Reader

Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.

3.9k words

Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share

Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”

I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx

You were nervous to see him again.

It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.

You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.

You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.

When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.

Frank Castle.

Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.

It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.

No texts.

No phone calls.

Just silence.

Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.

You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.

He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.

However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.

It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.

You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.

And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.

You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.

Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.

The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.

What was real and what wasn’t?

Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?

It was driving you crazy.

One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.

In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.

It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.

You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.

And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.

She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.

You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?

The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.

It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.

You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.

You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.

You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.

It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.

It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.

It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.

Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.

One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.

You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.

“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”

Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.

Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.

You were trying to deflect.

He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.

“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”

You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.

“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”

“Hm.” Frank hummed.

“What?”

“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”

You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”

“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.

“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”

You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.

He was being serious.

“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”

You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.

“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.

Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.

He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.

“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”

Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.

“Are you happy?”

You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.

You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.

You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.

You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.

It was just your dog, cat and you.

“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”

“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.

“Frank I-”

“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”

You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.

Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.

“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”

You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.

Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.

You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.

That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.

Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.

The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.

In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.

“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.

You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”

You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.

“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.

You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.

Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.

Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.

“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”

You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.

“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”

You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.

“You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”

Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.

You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.

“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.

You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.

There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.

“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”

He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.

“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.

Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.

“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.

There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.

How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?

You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.

“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.

“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.

“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.

You wanted to hear that more.

“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”

It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.

“I sure hope not.”

You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.

Wishful thinking of course.

You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.

“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”

“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”

That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.

“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.

“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”

Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.

“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”

Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?

You had to be dreaming.

“Really?”

You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.

“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”

You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”

Frank laughed again.

“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”

You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.

“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”

Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”

“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”

He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.

“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.

“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”

“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”

Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”

“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”

“No, I think I like this view better.”

You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.

“Is everything alright here?”

You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.

You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.

“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.

The officer seemed to buy this story.

“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.

You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.

“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.

You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.

There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.

His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.

You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.

“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.

“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”

Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.

“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”

You leaned back and looked up at him.

“What?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”

“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”

“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”

“Both can be true.” you shrugged.

He scoffed. “Come here.”

Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.

It just felt natural.

“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”

You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.

“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”

“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle angst #frank castle x you #jon bernthal

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saberlight1 · 11 months ago

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the red means i love you — frank castle

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: violence! like a lot of violence.. and detailed accounts of said violence, reader goes insane, mentions of murder, trauma, reader is a past widow for the red room, Y/N usage, kidnapping, established relationship, fluff, standard the punisher warnings.

authors note: hii theree! so this one is kind of insane, i may have went just a tad bit overboard, but y’know. thank you anon for this request that this fic is based on! this story is heavily based on the song, ‘the red means i love you’ by madds buckley, so give it a listen if you’d like. much love to you all, i hope you all enjoy this !

masterlist

You panted, your hand pulling the machete out of the last man’s chest. Your vision was still hazy, and you didn’t exactly feel like you were in your body.

But, that’s how you always felt when you killed.

As you gathered your bearings, your eyes began to dart around the room— and you realized how many men you had just taken out.

“Motherfucker,” You groaned as the pain began to set in due to the knife that was currently in your thigh. One of them must of done it when you were distracted, and your adrenaline was far too high for you to register it.

You no longer had that problem, it hurt like a bitch. But, you’ve had worse— a lot worse, and you could handle it. So you did was you were trained to do: push the emotions and pain away get the damn job done.

You had to. For Frank.

You see, he was taken by God knows who. You and Frank had no shortage of enemies, so you weren’t exactly sure who you were even invading, but you didn’t care. You knew they had Frank.

You were getting him back. You didn't care how many lives you had to take, you would do it all without second thought.

One of them had his sawed-off shotgun, they tried to shoot you with it. So you knew he was here. You just didn’t know exactly where.

And you’d go through hell and back to get to him.

So with a sharp inhale, you began to walk over to one of your victims, snatching the shotgun from his cold grip. A new sense of rage washed over you when you held the cold metal in your hands— they tried to take Frank from you.

You couldn’t let that stand.

Anger flooded your bloodstream as you began to stalk over to the hallway in front of you, cocking the shotgun along the way. You looked damn insane—you were covered in blood, a knife sticking out your thigh, your machete in one hand and Frank’s shotgun in the other.

One thing was for sure: you were out for fuckin’ blood.

You kicked open the first door you saw with your good leg, and inside were 3 men. Before they could even get a chance to react, you let the first round of bullets fly at one of them, the man dead instantly.

You narrowed your eyes at the two remaining men, putting the machete in your belt, you cocked the shotgun and aimed directly towards them. “Where the fuck is Frank.”

“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,” One of the men stuttered out.

You scoffed, shooting that same man in the shin. “You think I’m fuckin’ playin’ around? I said, where the fuck is he?! What did you do with Frank?!” You shouted angrily, cocking the gun once more.

The man cried out, falling to his knees as his partner put his hands up in surrender. “He’s in the building..” He murmured, but you could see the man you shot reaching for the gun that the other had so obviously in the back of his pants.

Rolling your eyes, you shot the man who was still unharmed in the head. “Fuckin’ useless. I’ll find him myself.” You muttered to mainly yourself before grabbing your machete once more and stomping over to the last one.

“No, no, no!” He begged, backing away as far as he could from you. “Killing me won’t do anything. You’ll never get through all of us. You and Castle are as good as dead,” He spat and you only gave a sinister smile in return before you dove the machete into his chest.

After he was dead, you took your machete and wiped it clean of the blood before storing it back in your belt. You walked out the room without another thought as you continued your walk down the hallway, Frank’s shotgun tight in your grasp as you pointed it for precaution.

The next room you walked into contained 5 men, and then 3 after you let your itchy trigger finger take over.

3 guns were pointed at you in a instant, and you smirked in delight. "Drop them now!" He nodded towards your weapons. With a smirk still on your face, you let your machete clattered to the ground, but still kept Frank's shotgun in your hand. If you were going to die, you wanted it to happen with at least something that tied to Frank.

Staring them all down, you tried to wait for one of them to make the first strike— but eventually you got bored.

You hit one of the men over the head with the shotgun as you kicked one of the other one’s knee in. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife that was still painfully lodged in your thigh and pulled it out-- causing a sharp roar of pain to leave your lips. And with a menacing stare, you used that very same knife to slash the third man's throat.

In a flash of motions you turned to the next man and shoved the knife into his throat, causing him to stumble back with fearful eyes before dropping dead.

That left the last one that you practically bitch-slapped with the gun. He stared at you with wide, rage filled eyes before he grabbed you by your neck, throwing you into the table next to you. Your now open wound on your thigh got caught on a nail on the way, only tearing it open further. A cry of pure pain left your lips at the act, but you recovered quickly, turning to the man with a evil glare.

You let out a yell as you tackled him to the floor, letting all of your anger out as you brutally laid punch after punch to his face until he was unrecognizable. You let out another broken cry as you left one last hit to his bloodied face.

Ragged breaths left your lips as came back down to reality, shakily standing up. Your knuckles were bruised and cracked, and you knew it would hurt like a bitch later, but as of now, you really didn't care. It would all be worth it in the end. So, without another thought you grabbed your machete and the shotgun and headed out the room.

There was only one room left. It was at the very end of the hallway, and you silently prayed Frank was in there. At this point, after all the people you had just killed and fought— you were fucking tired, and quite frankly; fed the fuck up.

You cocked the gun with nothing in your brain other than bloodlust and kicked open the door harshly. “Where the fuck is he?!” You bellowed as you stormed in, gun raised. You had tunnel vision, seeing nothing over than the targets before you.

8 or 9 men were scattered around the room, and before you knew it bullets were flying everywhere. With wide eyes you dove down for cover behind a fallen table, and on the way down you were grazed by several bullets. Your hand flew up to the blood you felt trickling down your ribs, a low groan leaving your lips. You fought tears of pain as you pulled yourself together, reminding yourself of the goal: Get to Frank.

“Come out, now!” One of them yelled, and it only fueled your anger further.

“Fine.” You growled, standing up and shooting the first two men in front of you. Standing up, you ran to the side of the wall where their bullets couldn’t hit you. You let out a small laugh to yourself— you had to admit, you kind of missed this.

The chaos of it all.

You were raised in the chaos of this— you were brought up in the Red Room, killing people all around the globe. Yelena Belova, one of your fellow past widows, had broken you out some time ago and you tried to give the life up, but it seemed it was in your DNA.

Who were you to fight that?

You shook the thought away just as quickly as it arrived— you had more pressing issues right now.

You pulled the pistol out of your boot, peaking around the corner and picking off 3 men, leaving now 4.

“You fuckin’ crazy bitch!” One of them roared, running at you with a dagger.

“Fuck off!” You screamed back, blocking his attempted strike by grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm, the man now yelling out in pain. He dropped the dagger that was clutched in his hand, while you caught with your free hand, not hesitating to plunge it into his heart.

“Y/N?!” You heard that familiar voice yell, causing you freeze. His call made a soft smile spread across your features, but at the same time ignited that dedication to get to him now.

You grabbed Frank’s shotgun, cocking it and getting your pistol in your other hand. And with a devilish glare, you turned the corner and proceeded to pick off the rest of the men that remained.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you realized they were all dead. Turning on your heel, you ran to room in the back that was connected to the room you had been in, throwing open the door urgently.

“Frank,” You practically whispered. He was bound a chair by chains, his face bruised and bloodied.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, taking in your current state. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you were sure it was nothing short of horrific. You were covered head to toe in a mixture of your own blood and your victim's, wounds and bruises littering your entire body. "Christ, woman, what the fuck happened out there?" He asked with a worried tone.

You aimed your pistol at his chains. “Don’t move.” You spoke gently, yet firm. He nodded, giving you the okay to take the shot. Once you did, he was up and bringing you into his arms almost immediately.

The weapons in your hands clattered to the ground in an instant as you let yourself melt in his arms. You were exhausted. Due to your search for Frank and also just your pure anxiety in being away from him, you had barely slept in the past couple days. That definitely came back to bite you in the ass, and on top of it all, you were in a lot of pain. The kisses Frank was leaving to the side of your head made you feel a lot better, though.

You pulled back just a bit to cup his jaw, your eyes scanning his injuries. “Are you okay?”

He let out a dry chuckle before turning his hand slightly to leave a kiss to your palm. “Baby, you are in no position to be askin’ me that right now.” His hands came up to cradle to your face, and you nestled your face into his palm. "Are you okay?"

You managed to give him a smile. “I'm better now.” You let out a shaky breath. Now that you had found Frank, the pain really began to set in. You wouldn’t let yourself feel all of the pain until you knew you were safe— and you now knew that Frank had you. “They’re all dead.” You told him. "I killed them all."

“Damn,” He licked his lips, staring down at you. “And here I was thinkin’ no one was comin’ for me.”

“You should know by now I’ll always come for you.” You expressed, leaning up to connect your lips. You didn’t care if you were covered in blood, or that Frank had been tied to a chair for 2 days— you missed him.

You loved him. And you would set the world on fire for him.

Once you two pulled apart, he stared into your eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You giggled softly, gazing up at him lovingly. “I love you, Frank.”

#anon asks #the punisher #netflix punisher #marvel punisher #punisher #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle x reader #frank castle #marvel #mcu #anon answered #fem!reader #widow!reader

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shiorimakibawrites · 3 months ago

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Day 1 - Why?

Prompt(s): 1 - Falling Asleep at the Hospital Character: Frank Castle Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Word Count: ~600 Warning: Injury, blood, referenced canon character deaths, implied PTSD Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Why?

Frank was sitting, your hand clasped tightly in his.

Unlike previous occasions, the chair was uncomfortable. Made of that hard molded plastic that numbed his ass within ten minutes of sitting in it. And too small for his long legs. It felt like his knees were level with his ears. But worse than the chair was that your hand wasn’t holding his back. It was limp.

Warm and limp, thankfully. The soft beep-beep of the heart monitor was reassuringly steady. The docs had said you should recover just fine. Frank hadn’t really understood what the surgeon had said but he understood the bottom line. That the bullet hadn’t done as much damage as was initially feared. You had lost a lot of blood but you’d live. Just a scar and PT to help keep your damaged shoulder as mobile as possible.

You were lucky.

It didn’t feel lucky. What would have been lucky is you not getting shot in the first place. What would have been lucky was Frank noticing that fucking bastard pointing a gun at him before you did. Once again, he swore viciously as himself for not seeing the danger until it was too late. Too late to stop you from pushing him out of the way. Always too damn late. It was his curse.

Frank blinked. Sleep was dragging at him. He had been awake for well over a day by this point. But he fought it. He knew what awaited him.

The vivid crimson blossoming across your white shirt like a gruesome flower, that soft ‘sorry’ as you lost consciousness, feeling your pulse slow under his hands . . . it would be joining the image of Maria so horribly still, her hair so black against that green-green grass . . . . the feeling of his son’s brains splattered across his chest . . . that gaping maw where his little girl’s face should have been . . .

Another pair of dead eyes staring accusingly at him, bloody lips demanding Why? Why didn’t you protect me? Why didn’t you save me from this? Why?

Why? That was the question that kept running around his brain. Why? Why did you do that? Why did you sacrifice yourself for him? Almost died for him? Why? He was a killer. A monster. A monster who hunted other monsters but still a monster. Nobody should be giving their life to save him.

Especially not you. Not you. Not for him. Not for anyone.

He shook himself and made a silent vow. Never again. You were never taking another bullet for him. You were never going to bleed for him again. He didn’t care what he had to do to accomplish it but you were going to outlive him.

He wasn’t burying anyone else. He refused. He’d fight God if he had to.

Just like he’d fight sleep. You had almost died. He wasn’t leaving you unguarded.

He almost ignored the notification chime on his phone. But so few people had that number, he ended up looking at the text message.

Red: Go to sleep, Frank. I’m standing watch.

He scowled. Tempted to tell him to fuck off. But practicality won out. He couldn’t stay awake forever. And he knew just how persistent Red was. Anyone coming after you would have to kill the bastard to stop him. And that was annoyingly difficult to do . . . Red was like the world’s worst cockroach. Not even a building collapsing on him could get rid of him.

Another chime. Red: Frank, sleep. Now.

“Bossy,” Frank muttered as he shifted into a - somewhat - more comfortable position in the chair, knowing full well that Red could hear him.

Red: K will be by in the morning with fresh clothes for you both. Goodnight, Frank.

He glared at the phone. Smug little . . . he made a mental note to kick his ass. Later. For now, Frank closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

#tuna-tober 2024 #tuna tober prompt challenge 2024 #day 1 #the punisher #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #angst

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audreyclimbs · 3 months ago

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foreseen in shadows- prologue

chapter summary: Matt Murdock meets a strange woman... and punches her in the face.

word count: 2.5k

to access the entire story: foreseen in shadows masterlist + masterlist

The rain pelting against Matt's face had grown nearly unbearable. The raindrops themselves weren't so bad, though the way they soaked into his black mask had grown to be something of a nuisance. Rather, it was the whipping, harsh October air against his skin that made the weather so intolerable. He seriously needed to get something nicer than this poor excuse for a suit.

This evening had been fairly monotonous. A few burglaries, a mugging. There were a few drunk college idiots who tried to corner a woman on her way from work- a restaurant from what Matt could smell on her- who ended up on the receiving end of Matt's growing aggravation with the weather. As he remembered the encounter, he briefly wondered if he had needed to beat them that hard. Remains to be seen. The deafening sound of the woman's trembling had been the only thing that pulled him out of his adrenaline-induced stupor.

Oh right, I'm supposed to be helping them, not terrifying them even more. Matt had thought to himself, hands clenching and unclenching in fists.

"How far away is your home?" He huffed out, shoulders slowly dropping as the pounding of his heart subsided.

She had stuttered a few times before choking out, "Just a couple of blocks. Thank you for... that."

Matt nodded silently before stepping back ever so slightly. Without another word, the woman practically raced in the direction of what he assumed was her apartment. He listened to the pounding of her heart as she made her way home. Listened to her checking on her one— no, two— kids as they slept peacefully in their beds. Then she slipped into bed herself. He heard her greet a man, her husband based on the ring that he had heard her twirling anxiously on her finger when she stood in front of him just a little while ago. Once assured that she had returned safely, Matt continued on his way.

To orient himself to his current position, Matt ascended to the rooftop of an apartment building. He let himself open up to the bustling, raucous noises of Hell's Kitchen's nightlife. For a little while, it was oddly peaceful. A voice in the back of his mind laughed at the irony of Matt feeling uneasy about a brief moment of peace. He wondered what time it was. As if on cue, the chiming of a grandfather clock sounded in one of the apartments below him.

2:45 A.M.

Exhaustion whispered into his bones, but he tried to brush it off. Part of him contemplated sneaking back into his apartment for some coffee, but he knew deep down that once he stepped through the threshold of his rooftop door, he wouldn't bring himself to come back out. Hell's Kitchen needed its masked protector more than Matt Murdock needed sleep, after all. Only a couple more hours, then he would go to sleep for a bit before joining Foggy in their daytime hunt for clients. God, he hoped they would catch a break soon. He wasn't sure how much more his bank account could take.

In the distance, he tuned into the rapid beating of a woman's heart. She seemed young, maybe a bit younger than Matt. She was sprinting through the alleys below him, winding left and right through the web of dark lanes. Finally, she rounded the corner of an alley that was one building to his left and barreled out into the sidewalk of the busy street. Her shoes slipped on the rain-slick sidewalk as she tried to counteract her momentum.

"Hoooly fuck, oh my God," Her voice came out breathless. She just... ran into someone?

"Watch where you're going, you little bitch," a gruff male voice snapped back at her, shoving her hands off when she tried to help him up.

Her cheeks, already flushed from her running, burned even hotter at his words. "I- I am sorry, sir, believe me," her voice had a distinct lilt to it. Matt realized with an internal eye-roll that she was not a Hell's Kitchen native. Probably some tourist who got lost on her way back to... wherever she came from. But why was she running so fast? Her heart was beating faster than would justify a simple run. He could practically smell the anxiety rolling off of her.

The older man stalked off without another word, muttering some unsavory words under his breath as he went.

Matt found himself walking closer to where the young woman was now standing. He could hear her breathing start to level out, her feet shuffling. Why was she so damn nervous?

"Where the hell..." she trailed off and back-stepped into the shadows of the alley she had practically fallen out of mere moments ago. A few beats of silence, and then he heard a humorless chuckle slip past her lips. "Didn't see that one coming," she muttered. Her head whipped around, presumably trying to take in her surroundings, and he heard raindrops whip themselves off of the bridge of her nose and the point of her chin.

Matt's brow furrowed in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? She definitely wasn't blind, though her grotesquely delayed reaction time to the street ahead of her would suggest it. Call it momentary boredom or curiosity, but the young woman's new movements spark his interest once more. Where was she going?

And why do I even care? Matt thought to himself. He considered abandoning her entirely and turning in early for the night. Just a couple more hours, he reminded himself.

The woman began jogging through the alleys, keeping to corridors that were a small way away from the central streets. She eventually scaled up the side of an apartment building using a rusty fire escape that creaked and groaned beneath her weight. He heard her cringe at the unsafe method of ascent, but she carried on before finally reaching the rooftop. The curiosity that had been simmering since the moment he picked up on her heartbeat finally boiled over, and Matt crossed the rooftops between them to reach her.

Her head whipped around to face the sound of his boots crunching across gravel. Her heartbeat, which had slowed minutely since she left the older man, skyrocketed once more. The sweat that had begun to cool on her brow perspired anew.

She's nervous. Matt noted internally. A moment later, No shit, you're a masked man dressed in all black, stalking silently up behind her at almost 3 o'clock in the morning.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked across the rooftop. You sound like a stalker, Murdock. They were on opposite corners of the building, but he could tell it didn't feel far enough to her.

"What are you doing, sneaking up on me at 3 o'clock in the morning?" Touché, Matt thought. Her voice was loud and snappy. To anyone else, she would have sounded entirely fearless. But Matt could make out the slight tremors of her hands.

"Come closer, you're all shadows and it's freaking me the fuck out that I can't see you." Her heart skipped a beat as she said it. A lie for which Matt could not conjure a logical explanation. Any other sane person would want this random stranger as far away as possible.

Nonetheless, Matt obliged and began slowly closing the distance between them. As he approached, Matt tuned in his senses to her appearance. Athletic build, strong legs, tense shoulders. Her clothes, which Matt could tell fit snugly over her limbs, clung even tighter with sweat and rain. The woman trailed slightly closer, pausing between steps once Matt reached about halfway. Then, her heart skyrocketed once again. She stood, frozen for some unknown reason. Her boots crunched back and forth on the gravel as she seemed to snap out of a stupor. Then, she broke into a sprint to her right.

It happened so quickly that Matt scolded himself for getting distracted with what she "looked like." She catapulted herself to the next rooftop and landed in a roll, then kept pushing forward. The woman's legs were pumping so fast that Matt wondered for a moment if she had some form of enhanced abilities. The pace of her feet mixed with her skittering pulse into a cacophony of thundering adrenaline. A part of Matt was tempted to shout at her to stop running if only to ease the burning of his lungs.

Matt Murdock was by no means out of shape. So how was this lady, who was arguably around his age, so fucking fast?

Do I need to do more cardio? Is kickboxing and chasing criminals every night not enough?

Finally, Matt's opportunity to gain the upper hand appeared in the darkness. A loose stone on the next rooftop. Small enough for her to not see it shrouded in the darkness of Hell's Kitchen's moonless night. Matt prayed that she didn't see it.

The resounding smack of her body colliding with the gravel as her foot caught on the rock's jagged edge was his answer. Matt finally reached the rooftop, but by the time he'd gotten there, she was up again. In a flash, Matt launched himself at the young woman with a well-aimed fist. He hit his mark on her jaw and almost felt bad for the speed with which she hit the ground mere moments after picking herself up from it. The shriek that slipped past her lips echoed through the city's noise, and Matt prayed once more that none of the residents of this building stirred at the noise.

The young woman scrambled to her feet and arranged her body into a fighting stance at a commendable pace. Especially considering the throbbing pain Matt could hear in her jaw. That would definitely be a bruise in a few hours if the thrumming of her blood pooling in the area was any indication. Should he apologize? His fight-or-flight instincts stopped roaring in his ears for a moment and allowed the lawyer to realize he had just struck this woman technically unprompted. Shit. So much for a peaceful approach.

"What the fuck was that for?" She barked at him, fists hovering in front of her chest.

"Why did you run?" was Matt's only answer.

"I-" her fists wavered for just a moment. He heard her heart uptick ever so slightly, and he cocked his head to the side for a split second as she stalled.

Impatience and a sliver of fear seized Matt once more, and he lunged for her. They hit the floor, Matt's arms coming to press her own by her head. At this proximity, he could smell the sweat that had dried on her before the rain started. How long has she been out tonight? How long has she been running? What has she been doing? Was she with Fisk? Question after question raced through Matt's head, but he didn't know why his instincts told him to not let her go.

"Would you stop fucking attacking me? Maybe that's why I ran, you asshole." The distinctive twist of her words made Matt realize that she was Southern. Based on the heat rising in her neck and cheeks paired with the feeling of her eyes on him, Matt could guess that she was currently leveling him with a lethal glare. She thrashed under him, but he held fast onto his position over her.

For the record, Matt thought to himself, I didn't attack you until after you ran.

"Answer the question," Matt snapped back, perhaps a touch harsher than was necessary, but he had no idea who this woman was or why his gut was telling him that she was important.

She sputtered for a moment before replying, "What question?"

"Why did you run?" Matt repeated, voice cold.

He felt her go still for a moment and sensed the intensity of her gaze on him. Then, her heart picked up once more. He really should have seen it coming, but before he could begin to react, the woman beneath him had launched her left leg up and over him, using the momentum of his weight to roll on top of him, arms slipping out from beneath his grasp to shove away at his chest so hard that the air escaped his lungs. Matt's back hit the gravel and he drew in a harsh gasp before reaching up to deflect a blow from her. The woman practically catapulted herself off of his body and backed up several paces. Matt sprang up in kind and tuned in to every signal her body could give him for what her next move would be. Her heartbeat was fast but steady. The rain still pouring onto both of them dripped down her arms and face, and he could tell she was shivering. Whether it was more from adrenaline or the temperature, he couldn't be sure. As he continued to listen, Matt felt his head tilt to the side slightly, arms remaining tense at his sides.

There it was again. Matt felt her eyes practically burning a hole in his head with a laser focus that surpassed a normal observation of one's opponent. If he weren't trying to figure out if this woman wanted to murder him, he'd be worried that there was something stuck in his teeth. She stared and stared, and Matt could sense every part of her body focusing on whatever she saw in him. A small hitch of her breath reached his ears.

Then, she advanced in a flurry of blows that Matt could hardly sense before they made contact. She seemed to be using whatever reserve of energy she had left. He began to deflect and attempt to drive back, but she met every strike a split second before it could hit its mark. She was undeniably on defense now, but she was doing it flawlessly. Frustration grew in Matt's chest when he continued to miss with what should have been sound blows and jabs. As he back-stepped repeatedly, he realized that she was closing in on him quickly despite never lashing out with a punch of her own. Then, in a strike so quick he didn't even sense its approach, she slammed her open palm over Matt's ear so hard that it knocked him to the side.

Suddenly, the world was screaming and shrieking. Matt drew in a gasp, hand shooting up to his ear as his knees hit the ground.

"I'm sorry," she whispered so softly that Matt almost didn't hear it over the roaring and ringing in his ear. Then, her knee made contact with his other ear, and Matt fell forward onto his forearms, jaw working back and forth futilely to relieve the sharp ringing that was overwhelming every one of his senses.

For a terrifying moment, Matt Murdock was in a dark world with no sound but shrill ringing, and he could feel nothing but the gravel digging into his arms and knees and the rain pelting against his back like shards of glass. Is this what eternal damnation is like? It could have been minutes or hours, he wasn't sure, but eventually, the ringing in his ears subsided, and he oriented himself to where he lay on this damned rooftop. He hesitated to move just yet, but Matt listened around and realized that the woman was gone.

In the distance, a grandfather clock chimed four times.

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feralforfrank · 2 years ago

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hiii bestie i hope you’re doing well 🌷 can i request a fluffy frank piece that includes “i can’t sleep without you” <3 the quote doesn’t have to be exactly that ofc you can change it however you see fit :) please feel free to disregard this if it doesn’t inspire you!! 💛💐🌟🌷

frank castle x fem!reader

fluffy drabble.

THIS IS BAD. OH MY GOD. also this request is so old, IM SORRY IM SO BAD AT DELIVERING.

The big window to the right of the bed shook as if someone was trying to open it. You rolled your eyes and huffed in annoyance. After tossing and turning for the whole night in worry, you had just settled to your left side. With a grunt, the window opened, and you knew who it was exactly.

You sat up, waiting for him to drag himself inside and shut the window. You pulled your knees to your chest and glared daggers at your boyfriend—albeit sleepily. He hadn't noticed you, for darkness consumed the room, and his large form covered the light the moon shone towards the bed.

"Look, what the fucking cat dragged in," your tone was as sarcastic as it could get.

Frank jumped and jerked his body to face yours. He breathed in relief when he saw your silhouette under the covers, but his frown soon returned, as did the pain on his side. He hissed, and your irritated expression fell, morphing into one of worry and fear.

"What?" Your voice shook. "What is it?"

He dropped his bag by the window and walked by the bed, heading to the bathroom—all while holding his side, which worried you more. You threw the covers off, running after him.

"Frank!"

He waved his hand and tried to shoo you and shut the door so you wouldn't see how bad he looked, but because his limbs were heavy and his moves slow, you managed to slip inside with him.

"It's okay, baby. You can go back to bed. I'll join you after I take a shower." Frank's voice was deep by nature, but this tone was underlined with pain.

You shake your head and move to get the small first aid kit you keep for situations like this one. Frank leans on the sink, takes his shirt off, lips pursed, and stares at you. He studies you carefully, from head to toe, ensuring you're okay. Is that his shirt?

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, but you don't answer.

You're worried, yes, but you're also angry at the man for not contacting you and having you worry so much.

"Baby...talk to me, please," he speaks so softly, and how do you not break at that moment?

You press your fingers to the massive bruise forming on the side he was holding, biting the inside of your cheek. He hisses, and a small smirk slips on your lips. Serves him right.

"Oh, you find my pain funny?" Frank tries again, but you just look up at him sharply.

His head tilts to the side. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

You sigh at the honest confusion in his tone. You can't be mad at this buffoon—as much as you want to.

You shrug, applying cream to the scratches on his shoulder now. "Couldn't sleep without you," you say quietly.

"What's that, honey?" You know damn well he heard you.

"Don't push your luck."

He hisses when you slap the bandaid on his shoulder blade harder than needed. He manages to chuckle and moves his hand to pull you closer once you try to move away.

"What?" Your angry facade is slipping more and more by the moment, as sleep tries to evade all of your senses.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, sweet girl." Frank smiles down at you, and you blink, gaze softening completely.

"Apology accepted. Now, go shower. You smell like gunpowder and fish."

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #marvel #mcu #nmcu fanfic #slight angst #naewrites #naeanswers

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the night

lilac, chapter eleven

a/n: just know that my cat stayed glued to my right thigh the entire time I wrote this (even though it wasn't in one sitting, every time she'd be like a moth to a flame. I mean, not that she's not like that all of the time, she is, but it was just especially prevalent throughout this chapter. always the right thigh during this chapter...) so, yeah, I hope that feeling somehow comes across

summary: "what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened?"

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, cuddling, reading

word count: 1648

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

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Snapping awake with a painful gasp, you shot straight up and the surprising plushness of the mattress below you dipped and bowed at the movement.

The chair that was usually placed in the corner of your room had been scooted closer to the bed and in it, watching over you like a guard dog, sat Frank. As soon as you sprang to life, so did he, rushing out of his seat and closing the distance to your panicked frame.

Kneeling on the floor beside you, his wide hands instinctively inched closer in a comforting touch, “hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re okay,” although his caress never met your form as they stayed suspended in the air, weary that some man putting his hands on you the very second you woke up properly wasn’t what you needed.

The initial hyperventilating breaths your lungs had sucked in began to calm as your frantic gaze trained on him and you hoarsely uttered, “Frank?”

Staring back at you, a faint smile twitched at his sombre expression as he exhaled, “yeah.”

Grounding yourself in his coffee gaze, you felt your tense frame begin to thaw as you found yourself melting into his arms, “oh, Frank…” as he enveloped you in his hold, your neck craned to rest your chin upon his broad shoulder, but as you tried to slot into that instinctive embrace, your throat pressed up against him and caused you to jerk back slightly in pain, “ow, fuck…” your brows trembly knitted together as your fingers reached up to ghost over the tender lavender bruise, “…Frank, what–…” but before you could inquire any further, you awoke entirely and recalled just why it hurt so much to speak, “oh god…” averting your gaze, you noticed the wide rectangular bandages that clung to your palms as well as your left elbow, “oh god.”

“You’re okay,” you watched him place his hand just above one of your sore knees hidden by the duvet, his thumb swiping in a comforting caress, “doctor Díaz made a house call earlier and she said that your injuries are mostly just superficial.”

Forcing a deep breath, you let your eyes drift around the room. The sheer curtains drifted slightly in the calm wind that seeped through the cracked open window, the night sky being softened by the dancing fabric.

“What time is it?” you whispered, although that volume still managed to sting your sore throat.

“A little past three.”

Turning to look at his kneeling figure, you hesitantly asked, “what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened? I-is, Preston–”

“Nowhere near here,” he assured you, “how much do you remember?”

Taking a second to ponder, you then uttered, “everything up till you came and then I remember ringing the bell to try and get Otto’s attention,” revisiting the memories brought fresh tears to your eyes, “but not anything else after that… did he hear it? Did he come?”

“Yeah, he did. Took him into custody, but unfortunately, Nilsen didn’t have enough to do any more than put him on a 24-hour hold. So, I took care of it.”

Scarily breathing at all, you couldn’t help but fear the worst in his vague words, “…what do you mean you took care of it? Frank, what did you–… he isn’t–… is he alive?”

Sucking in a controlled breath, his jaw tensely clenched a moment before he answered, “he is… although I’d personally sleep much better at night if he wasn’t, he is. Sheriff Nilsen wasn’t able to do a lot, if anything in this situation, so I made a call to someone I know who can.”

“Who?”

“Someone at homeland who owes me a favour. She should be down here in the morning. I don’t know exactly how much she’ll be able to do, but at the very least she’ll be able to get you one hell of a restraining order, get some eyes on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything again.”

As you didn’t say anything, simply stared down at your striped duvet, completely stunned, his voice quietly filled the room once more.

“I–…” uncertainty tainted his tone as he tried to read your expression, “it’s your choice what you wanna do. Whatever you want, if you want me by your side, I’ll be there. I just wanted to do something, try and respect your wishes, and if I did the wrong fucking thing, then I’m sorry, but that asshole fuckin–”

“Thank you,” your whisper cut off his desperate words. Eyes fluttering up to meet his, your hand found the top of his, softening it as his gruff knuckles had turned white from how he was clenching the blanket, “I–… I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

With a soft shake of his head, Frank uttered, “you don’t have to thank me, really.”

Wobbly bottom lip and tears welling up in your weary eyes once more, you leaned forward and buried your head in his chest, his palms swiftly finding your back in soothing patterns as you trembled, letting it all unravel just a tad at the newfound relief.

Soft sobbing swiftly turned into weeping, and as more and more of your tears stained the cotton of his shirt, you heard yourself muttering wistfully, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“I am,” his hand gently ran up and down your trembling spine, “is that alright?”

Nodding against his chest, you thought back as you cried, “you came. You found me just in time.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he let out a low sigh, “as long as you’ll want me to, I’ll always find you.”

It seemed an impossible task to fall back asleep and face the potential nightmares that would no doubt plague you, so instead, to make the dark night gently pass, you found yourself curled against Frank’s chest as he had joined you against the headboard. One of his hands permanently clasped in yours, the other held up a nostalgic book from your childhood, rediscovered upon the shelf in the corner that still carried all of the old tales that you were brought up on.

Laying there, tangled together, your gaze rested on the view of the slowly rising sun outside as you listened to Frank’s quiet reciting. But as your vision soon shifted and glided across the ceiling, a thought suddenly struck you.

“Y/n?” Frank gently cut through your haze after a few moments of silence, waiting for you to turn the page as you had done for him since you took one of his hands captive.

“Sorry,” you softly shook your head, blushing slightly as you shared, “it just occurred to me that you’ve never been in my room before now…”

“That’s true,” he murmured softly.

“It just feels a little weird…” your gaze flickered to the worn teddy bear that now simply decorating the top of your dresser, “like you can see into my brain…”

Breathing out a smile, he lowered the open book to be even closer to your reach, “you mind turning the page?”

Mirroring his content expressions, you reached up to flip over to the next part of the story, but just as you did, a gentle knock echoed at your door.

“Just a second!” you called, winching slightly as the higher volume stung like sandpaper scraping out of your throat. Letting Frank’s hand go, you scooted back a bit as you separated, waiting till he was situated back in the armchair before you said, “come in.”

Creaking open the door, you watched as your father gingerly stepped inside, his gaze locked upon the steaming tray balanced in his hands.

“Alright, potato leek soup and ginger tea with honey,” he sat it down on your bedside table, “careful it’s hot.”

Sucking in a deep breath as the aromatics began to fill the room, you looked up at him and offered an exhausted smile, “thanks, dad.”

Sighing lowly, you could tell he was trying to stay stoic as his empathetic gaze washed over you, his head lightly cocking to his side as he asked, “are you okay, pumpkin? Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you have enough pillows?”

“Yeah, I have enough pillows,” a slight chuckle managed to roll off your tongue, “although now that you mention it,” you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I was actually thinking about lying low for a little while, just until all the bruises and stuff aren’t as noticeable anymore. I just don’t think I can deal with all of the questions and comments right now.”

“Well,” the moustachioed man’s eyes narrowed in thought, “there aren’t any guests staying on the entirety of the second floor, so if you want to, you can just bunk out up there. We could set up a sign in the stairwell or something saying that there is construction going on, which wouldn’t be a lie, but nevertheless, would ensure that no one bothers you.”

“Oh, I-I could,” your eyes flicked to Frank’s for a moment in hopes it would grant you the strength needed to share, “but I was actually planning on going to stay at Pete’s for a little while. You know, his cabin is so secluded and–“

“Oh, right, of course,” your father chuckled, giving his noggin a light tap as if that should have somehow been his first guess, “sorry, I guess I just didn’t wanna assume that after all of that, you wanted to go hang out with your guy, if anyone–”

“My what?” you chuckled, eyes growing wide, though the dumbfounded laugh faded as you took in the nonchalant expression plastered upon your dad’s face, “wait…” your brows knit together, “you know?”

“What?” the weathered man simply stood there, nearly resembling a child as he shrugged, “was it supposed to be a secret?”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle series #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle angst #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #lumberjack au

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bellaxgiornata · 7 months ago

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Don't Walk Away [2/2]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k [Part One]

Summary: Frank is a good man–you learned that the day he brought your dog Lucky into your life. The two of you soon began a relationship afterwards, one that was rather unconventional with how often Frank was always on the road. But one night when he's back, you're hit with the realization that you're in love with him. Noticing your nerves, Frank eventually pulls the truth out of you–and then you're left confused and heartbroken when you wake up to find him gone the next morning.

Warnings: 18+; Angst with a happy ending (in part two), emotional hurt/comfort, smut (in part two), love confession

a/n: Y'all have been waiting a long time for the happy (and somewhat smutty) conclusion of this fic, and here it finally is! Feedback is always appreciated!

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @blackhawkfanatic @heimtathurs @marcysbear @linamarr @nerdytreeflower @powellssaturn @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @sleepysleepymom @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1

The house was much quieter than usual all day today. Even Lucky appeared to share in your miserable mood, not having much of her usual energy herself. She’d spent most of her day either lying quietly on the floor beside you, watching you closely with her sad brown eyes, or meandering over to the window as if she still expected Frank’s truck to reappear out front. Meanwhile you’d spent your day off of work from the animal clinic moping and crying ever since you’d awoken to discover that Frank had left you. He’d never called, either. Not a single text the entire day after he’d quietly disappeared from your bed.

Now here you were once again, buried face down on one of the couch pillows with a blanket covering most of you, as if that could somehow hide you from the reality of what had happened. That you’d confessed to Frank that you loved him in the middle of the night last night only to have him disappear on you before you’d woken. And like hell if his response of leaving without a word and ignoring you all day today hadn’t cut you deeply and spoken volumes in itself.

You weren’t delusional. You hadn’t expected him to say it back to you when he’d finally pried it out of you last night. You’d known what he’d been through with losing his family–what he was still going through over the loss of them. But while you hadn’t expected a perfectly romantic declaration in return from him, you certainly hadn’t anticipated this reaction.

He clearly wasn’t as ready for a relationship as you’d thought. Especially not one that had gotten so unexpectedly serious. You’d tried to tell yourself that it was alright, that he couldn’t help it with what he’d been through, hoping that would ease just a little bit of your pain. You’d even tried to remind yourself of your unusual relationship with him for months now, telling yourself that you should’ve expected this. But no matter how you tried to reason with yourself or make sense of his actions, you still wound up in another fit of tears.

Why the hell had he just left without a word? Why was he still ignoring you?

Even with your face hidden and the blanket pulled up high over you, you could still hear the sound of Lucky’s whines just over the sound of the rain coming down outside. Turning your face, you buried it further into the dampened couch pillow, feeling another wave of sadness wash over you again. He’d hurt Lucky when he’d left, too.

Tears once more fell down your cheeks as you began to softly cry yet again, your sobs muffled against the fabric of the pillow. Lucky’s little whines began to pick up, almost as if she was lying on the floor beside the couch and mourning the loss of Frank with you. And maybe she was. That thought only had the tears falling faster, your heart painfully tightening in your chest for both you and your dog.

A crack of thunder roared in the distance as rain continued to batter at your windows. The fact that the sun hadn't peeked out from behind the gray clouds once today seemed fitting. Almost as if the universe knew exactly how you were feeling and was wallowing along with you today.

All day you’d been back and forth, contemplating calling into work and taking tomorrow off. You didn't know how you were going to make it through a full day tomorrow without entirely losing it. Were you really supposed to just get out of bed in the morning and act like your world hadn't just fallen apart around you? Because that's exactly what had happened and pretending otherwise felt impossible right now.

Lucky’s toenails scratching along the floor as she abruptly rose to her feet met your ears over the sound of the rain. She trotted away from the couch, sounding as if she was once more making her way over to the living room window. You figured she was probably yet again planning to dejectedly press her nose to the glass in her hopeful search of Frank's truck, still expecting to find it outside one of these times. It was something she had been doing repeatedly all day and it broke your heart to keep watching. At the sound of a particularly high-pitched whine coming from her, you partially unburied your face from the pillow.

“He's gone, girl,” you croaked out, voice hoarse from the crying you'd done all day. “It won't help to stare out the window. He’s not there.”

Lucky looked back over at you from where she’d wedged herself between the curtains. She responded with two sharp barks almost in defiance of what you'd said.

“I'm sorry,” you muttered miserably, more to yourself than to her as you buried your tear-stained face back into the pillow. “You don't understand what's going on.” Your lips trembled as you curled further into yourself on the couch under the blanket. “And neither do I.”

Lucky paced her way back towards the couch, her toenails clicking along the floor as she walked. She let out another two sharp barks directed at your form buried beneath the blanket. You sighed, lifting your face from the pillow again.

“He's left, girl,” you told her, rolling over to face her entirely. “And he's not coming–”

You stopped when you saw the sudden shift in her demeanor. Her ears were perked up, excitement glinting in her eyes as she leaned forward, bumping your arm with her cold nose. But most importantly you caught the way her tail was wagging–exactly three wags before it stopped and started again a few seconds later.

Your eyes flew to the window she'd been looking out of moments ago, quickly pushing yourself upright into a seated position on the couch as your tears began to slow. There was only one reason she ever wagged her tail in excitement like that. There had only ever been one reason in the past eight months.

Frank .

You'd barely managed to throw the blanket off of yourself before you'd heard the three almost hesitant knocks at your front door. Feeling like you weren't even breathing, you rose from the couch in almost a daze as another crack of thunder growled in the distance. You made your way across the room, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand as you went.

Stopping in front of your door, your hand hesitantly hovered over the lock. You weren't even sure if it was Frank at your door right now, having been in too much of a hurry to have stopped and checked for his truck outside before you'd rushed over. But as your gaze dropped down to Lucky who was standing just beside you, you couldn't mistake the impatience in the whine she emitted next.

Without further hesitation, you unlocked the deadbolt before swinging the door open. Frank was indeed standing on your small front porch, the little overhang he was standing beneath just barely shielding him from the downpour of rain. Though you noticed that his clothes looked damp and his dark hair wet. He must've been outside in the storm at some point recently today.

Pushing the screen door open a fraction, you stood there in silence staring at the guilty and forlorn expression spread across Frank’s face. His dark brows were drawn together, a deep crease formed between them. The corners of his lips were downturned and faintly twitching, making it look like if his frown could deepen any further, it would at any moment. There was also pain and sadness lingering in his dark eyes as they fell on you, somehow softening further the longer they took in the sight of you.

You didn't know what to say as you stood there with the door held open, Lucky now seated next to your feet, her tail wagging along the floor at the reappearance of Frank. You were still partially in shock that he was even standing there after the way he’d just left without a word and ignored you all day afterwards. Part of you was even pissed off that he'd suddenly shown up on your doorstep without warning, as if what he'd done hadn't torn you up. Your hand tightened around the screen door handle, lips pressing firmly together as you stared back at him, anger burning in your gut now.

“I'm sorry,” Frank finally said, breaking the silence.

“That's all you've got?” you asked sharply, eyes narrowing. “You left without a damn word, Frank. While I was still asleep next to you. Your phone has been off all day. You didn’t leave a single damn message. Not a damn explanation. Now you show back up and all you can say is ‘I’m sorry’?”

He nodded solemnly, his gaze guiltily dropping down to his dirty black boots. “You're right,” he agreed. “I left you like an asshole without a word. And I'm sorry for that. I am. I didn't exactly plan that to happen. But I just–just needed to go somewhere to think after what you’d said last night.”

Your teeth ground together as you eyed him standing there, watching as he continued to avert his gaze from you. He kept staring down at his boots, hanging his head as the rain still fell heavily down around him just past the overhang of your porch. Beside you, Lucky let out another impatient whine, clearly not understanding why Frank hadn’t just come inside and pet her already.

“You went somewhere to think?” you asked him.

Nodding, Frank looked back up at you through his lashes. He almost looked a little nervous as he stood there, his head still partially hung in obvious guilt. Your teeth grit together at the sight, anger and compassion fighting within you at his response.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied.

He began to shift back and forth on his feet awkwardly, one of his hands rising up and running across his mouth. You rested a hip against the doorway, your hand still holding your screen door open partially, though you weren’t exactly ready to just invite him back inside. Not after how his abrupt disappearance had hurt both you and Lucky all day today. You needed an explanation first–a good one.

“Look, I–I wasn’t expecting to meet you when I found Lucky that night, alright?” he eventually blurted, his eyes earnestly meeting yours. “I was just s’posed to be passin’ through here. Like I do everywhere. But then I found this injured dog and I couldn’t just leave her. And for some reason I couldn’t shake her from my mind once I’d finally left this damn town despite knowin’ she was okay. So I came back. And then I just…couldn’t seem to shake you from my mind afterwards, either.”

The tension eased a little from your body as you listened to him speak. Frank had never been so forthright about his feelings with you about anything other than the loss of his family before. And even that had understandably taken a long time for him to open up to you about. But now here he was suddenly spilling things to you that you’d never truly heard him tell you before and it had completely taken you off guard.

“I wasn’t lookin’ for anything with anyone,” he continued. “I mean, hell, look at who I am. The things I’ve done.” He shook his head bitterly, his gaze still holding yours. “I ain’t a good man, sweetheart. I’m not fooling myself into thinkin’ otherwise. And I kept telling myself that I should stay away from you all this time, that you deserved better than me, but I just…couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you. But I–I couldn’t make myself stay, either.” Frank’s brown eyes further softened along with his voice. “Because you deserve so much better than me. Someone with more to offer. Someone that's good.”

“You are a good man, Frank,” you told him.

He almost looked like he'd flinched at the comment before he shook his head again.

“I don't know how you always say that,” he countered. “I sure as shit don't see it.”

“Well I do,” you stated. “You're a good man despite your past, Frank. Been through some of the worst heartache I could ever imagine. Yet you're still a good man in the end, even with the things you've done. Because of the heart you have in that big damn chest of yours. But Frank,” you said, eyes beginning to water as you remembered waking up to an empty bed this morning, the pain hitting you almost all over again. “Why the hell did you just leave me like that?”

His gaze guiltily dropped back downwards, his shoulders visibly dropping. The sky flashed with a streak of lightning behind him, the rumble of thunder hitting your ears a few seconds later.

“Maria got pregnant three months after we started dating,” he began, voice quiet and oddly even as he focused on his worn boots. “I proposed to her the day she told me. Never thought twice about it. Planned to spend the rest of my life growing old with her, raising our kids.” He paused, his eyes still downcast as he shifted his weight on his feet again. “I never planned to be with anyone but her. Never imagined ever being with anyone else. We got married and I said those vows and I meant them. I meant them. But of course I–” he hesitated, emotion suddenly thick in his voice, his face pinching tight, “–I never could've anticipated what was gonna happen to her and the kids.”

You felt your heart softening immediately to Frank, watching as one of his hands slipped out of his jacket pockets. He wiped at his eyes quickly with the heel of his hand, though he still refused to look at you.

“I never planned to feel like that for anyone else,” he continued. “And I honestly can't say that I'm ready to–to repeat those words to you and mean them quite yet, either. And until last night,” he said, his eyes finally meeting yours again, “the only woman who'd ever said them to me was Maria. And hearing them again–”

He broke off mid-sentence, his expression twisting up in a mixture of pain and grief that hit you straight in the chest. Without a word you were stepping outside and letting your screen door slam shut behind you. Your arms wrapped around Frank's shoulders, drawing him into you without hesitation. He buried his face into the crook of neck, his own arms tightly encircling your waist in return. There was a dampness forming around the collar of your shirt the longer you held him there and you knew it was from his tears. It only had you holding him more firmly in your embrace and wishing there was more you could offer to ease that neverending pain of his.

“I just needed to think ‘bout things,” he croaked out. “That's all. ‘S’all it was. I’m sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Turning your head towards where Frank’s was buried into the crook of your neck, you closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his temple. The anger you'd been feeling at the sight of him appearing on your front porch had completely disappeared after what he'd just shared with you. How could you have blamed him for needing time to think about everything? After everything he'd been through? It made complete sense that hearing someone tell him they loved him for the first time after losing Maria would’ve stirred up a confusing mix of feelings inside of him. Feelings he’d need to take time to process.

“It's alright, I understand now,” you assured him softly. “Though I still wish you'd have at least said something. Left a note or a text saying you needed time to process things so that I wasn't just left feeling abandoned when I woke up.”

“I know. I wasn't thinking, though,” he admitted. “And I'm sorry. So sorry, sweetheart. I fucked up and I hurt you.”

You sighed, your arms still holding Frank to the front of yourself. His face was still buried against your neck, your shirt still steadily growing damper.

“Do you want to come inside?” you asked hesitantly, unsure of what he’d say at this point. “Get out of the rain?”

“If you still want me to,” he answered.

Shifting in his arms, you planted a gentle kiss to his temple before you reluctantly released your hold on Frank, his own arms unwrapping from around your waist in return. You reached out and grabbed his hand, turning and opening your screen door before leading him back inside. The moment he was in the entryway Lucky was back up on her feet, her tail wagging so hard her entire back half was moving along with it. Frank chuckled lightly at the sight of her as you closed and locked the front door behind the pair of you.

“I know, I know. I fucked up, girl,” he told her, bending over and reaching a hand out to scratch her behind the ears. As he pet her, he glanced back up at you, an apologetic look spread across his face. “Promise it won't ever happen again, though.”

A small smile slid onto your face, your eyes holding his for a moment. Lucky continued to relish in the ear scratches, clearly happy to have Frank back after his abrupt departure earlier. She had easily forgiven him the moment she'd seen him.

Clearing your throat, you pointed a firm finger at his boots. “You still need to take those dirty, wet things off before you come inside,” you told him.

The corner of his mouth curled upwards as he nodded back at you. “Yes, ma'am.”

As Frank began to undo his boots and slip them off, you stepped further into the living room and watched him. Nervously you began chewing on your bottom lip, curious as to how things might change in your relationship with him now after how he'd reacted to you saying you loved him. Would things continue as they had been? As if nothing had changed? Or would it be harder to navigate this weird relationship now?

“Is it too soon for me to ask how long you're planning to stay this time?” you asked hesitantly, afraid the question would have him pulling his boots back on, running back out to his truck, and peeling out of your driveway. “Like…will you stay if I make dinner tonight? Will you still be here when I come back from work tomorrow evening?”

Frank’s hand left Lucky’s ear, lowering back to his side as he rose up to his full height despite Lucky’s protesting whine. He began slipping his arms out of his jacket before he silently stepped over towards your entryway closet, opening it and pulling out a hanger to hang his coat on. You watched him closely, waiting for him to answer. He didn't speak until he'd closed the closet door and finally focused back on you, one large hand still pressed against the door. You noticed he once again looked a little nervous as he eyed you in return.

“About that,” he began slowly, his weight shifting back and forth between his feet. “Was kinda thinking maybe I'd try staying this time…if you still want me here?”

Both of your brows rose up onto your forehead in surprise. You hadn't expected that. Anytime the idea of him staying longer or more permanently was brought up, things had always ended up going poorly between you both. Usually he’d disappear and take longer to show back up for another visit. For weeks now you had been wondering if things would ever change in your strange relationship with him, afraid to ever really discuss it for fear of scaring him off for good, and now here he was saying he wanted to stay this time.

“Of course I want you here, Frank,” you told him. “I've wanted that for a long while now. You know that.”

Frank smiled a small smile at you, his hand reaching out to give Lucky another couple of pats on the top of her head. Then he made his way over towards you almost shyly, something soft and gentle radiating in his eyes with the way he was looking at you. The sight had something nervously fluttering in your stomach almost as if it was that first night he'd stopped by and asked you out all over again.

Opening your arms to him, he easily made his way back into them as if he'd never left at all. He lowered his forehead to carefully rest against yours, his strong arms once more drawing you against the front of himself as they encircled your waist. The smell of rain mingled with Frank's usual scent and it filled your nose as your fingers dug into his back through his dark shirt. Closing your eyes, a smile formed on your lips as you held him close.

This felt right.

Shifting in his arms, you hesitantly tilted your mouth up towards Frank's, capturing his lips in a tentative and hesitant kiss. One that was uncertain as your lips moved slowly and cautiously against his, afraid of pushing past his boundaries with him after what all he'd just revealed to you tonight. But his mouth moved firm and certain in response, kissing you back in a way that had your hands soon fisting the fabric of his shirt in them, pulling him tighter to the front of yourself.

With his mouth still attached to yours, you took a tentative step backwards towards the hallway. Back towards your bedroom. Instead of pushing you away or breaking the kiss, Frank began to walk you backwards, clearly aware of what you were trying to do. You figured if expressing himself with words wasn’t a possibility just yet, you hoped he was still able to express himself through his actions. Through the tender way he always touched you and the gentle way he often loved you. That was what you wanted right now–what you needed from him–and it appeared to be exactly what he needed, too.

Your hands began tugging at the hem of his shirt while his hands slid up the back of yours, the warmth of his large palms seeping pleasantly through your skin as they ran up and down the length of your spine. The kiss quickly grew heated, your house filling with the sounds of both of your panting breaths as you continued making your way down the hallway, bumping occasionally into the wall as you blindly led him to your room.

The pair of you only broke apart once you finally reached your bedroom and stepped inside. You shut the door in a rush, breathing hard and shooting Lucky at the end of the hallway a brief apologetic look as you did. Then you turned back around, your hands returning back to Frank, quickly working to pull his shirt off before throwing it to the floor at your feet. His hands were on you next, tugging your own shirt up and over your head before he discarded it carelessly to the side.

In hardly any time, both of you had managed to undress each other, pausing only to lose yourselves in another passionate kiss while your hands blindly fumbled to strip a piece of clothing off of the other. But once all your clothes had finally been discarded, you'd led Frank by the hand over to your bed, pulling him up onto it with you. He followed easily, his eyes locked on yours as if you were all that mattered, a feeling that had your body feeling like it was on fire.

Sliding a single arm around his neck, you drew his naked body towards you on the bed while your other hand reached down between the pair of you, beginning to stroke his hardening cock. Frank’s large hands were on your hips, focusing on taking their time to sensually roam over every inch of your body as you did. His hands explored their way tenderly along you, both of your breaths coming in sharper while his fingers trailed over your hips, your thighs, your back, your breasts. He buried his face against your neck as he did, his mouth trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin as he grew harder in your hand.

Eventually you couldn’t wait any longer for him, rising up onto your knees before him as your hand slid up the back of his neck, your fingers curling themselves into his hair. Then you inched yourself forward, your knees on either side of his as you straddled Frank's lap for a moment. Your other hand held the base of his cock steady while you carefully began to lower yourself down onto him, guiding him into your wet and aching core. You sighed at the feel of him gradually filling you once more, the fear of losing him melting away as your body stretched to fit him.

With a pleased hum, Frank's hands splayed wide over your back in response, holding you tight to his firm chest as you gradually began to sink entirely down onto his cock. Your hand in his hair gently tugged him away from your neck, raising his face up towards yours. From your position above him in his lap, you watched as he gazed back up at you, his eyelids lowering partially in a mix of pleasure and relief. He looked like this was exactly what he'd needed after today–the two of you connecting in a way that felt full of meaning and emotion. Something you'd been sorely missing before he'd come into your life.

“Won’t ever do that again,” Frank murmured. “Promise you that, sweetheart. I won't ever hurt you like that again.”

Slowly rolling your hips forward into his, you felt his fingers digging into your skin, his blunt nails urging you onwards. Wordlessly he leaned up, connecting his mouth back to yours in a passionate kiss that had your toes curling along the mattress. The kiss felt full of everything you knew Frank had wanted to say but didn't feel ready to tell you. And it was more than enough for you right now.

“I know,” you whispered back, your faces mere inches apart, breaths mingling in the small distance between your mouths. “I still love you, Frank,” you assured him, watching as his eyes snapped shut at your words. Both of your hands rose up, cradling his face between your palms as you continued to ride him beneath you, the slow drag of his cock back and forth inside of you feeling like heaven. “And I’m always going to be right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

Connecting your mouths together again in a tender kiss, you lost yourself in the way Frank’s mouth moved against yours. Lost yourself in the way he filled all of your senses–the way he filled all of you. You didn’t need to hear him say those three words back to you, not right now. Not with the way his thick arms wrapped around your back, nearly crushing you to the front of his very solid chest as he began to match the movements of your hips with his own. Not with the way his warm breaths ran down the length of your neck, raising goosebumps along your skin. And certainly not with the way his hands were holding your body, cradling you to himself with such firm but tender care.

You didn't need those three words from him right now because you knew he was going to make damn sure you understood exactly how he felt tonight with every thrust of his hips, caress of his fingers, and touch of his lips on you.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle angst #frank castle x you #frank castle #the punisher

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