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dameronology · 3 months

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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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ilyasorokinn · 6 months

Note

hi me again!! can i request number 3 (hiding face in neck) or number 8 (shielding the other one with their body) from the touching prompt list with frank castle please? whichever one you pick is fine with me <3

NIGHT TIME ACTIVITIES

my last blurb for my tumblr-versary :( tysm to evryone who sent things in! i love and appreciate you all, and i love and appreciate everyone who has followed me or read my work or sent in anything. i love you all! also, i decided to go with both prompts, so slay ;)

3. "hiding face in neck" 8. "shielding the other one with their body" (from this prompt list)

tw: crime/violence

frank didn't like it when you got involved with his nightly activities, but you were able to help him sometimes. this time, you offered him a lot of help.

you were really good with computers, and usually, he would just call up lieberman for help, but he was desperate and didn't have time to call for backup.

you stood behind frank, hands in your pockets as you waited for him to finish picking the lock. once the door was open, he yanked it open and pushed you inside.

"so, how long do we got before they come in and we become target practice?" he asked, scanning the room as you took the usb out of your pocket.

you didn't exactly know what frank needed from these people, but you knew it probably wasn't good information.

"13 minutes starting..." you plugged the usb into the other computer, "...now." your heart was beating fast as you typed away on the computer.

"and you're sure you know what you're doing?" you stopped typing and raised a brow at him, "right. sorry, dumb question." he nodded, turning around and standing guard while you got back to typing.

your eyes went from the block in the corner of the screen to the progress bar in the middle of the screen, "how much longer?"

"almost done," you responded through gritted teeth. you jumped at the sound of tires squealing outside.

"i thought you said we had 13 minutes."

"maybe they were down the street." you snapped. when the progress bar disappeared and the 'download: complete' message popped up on the screen, you ripped the usb out of the computer and turned to frank, "how're we gonna get out of here?"

"working on that." he snapped. before either of youcould do anything, a bullet flew through the wall and landed in the wall right by your head.

you yelped, flinching and covering your head, "down!" frank shouted, grabbing onto you and shoving you to the ground. he moved fast, his body covering you like a shield.

you gripped onto his shirt, shoving your face into his neck, "we're gonna be okay!" you heard him shout over the sound of gunfire.

the people shooting at you must've run out of bullets because the shooting stopped, and you heard tires squealing away. once the coast was clear, frank pushed himself off of you and looked around.

you lay there, trying to collect your thoughts, "hey, you okay?" he asked, bending down next to you again and caressing your hair.

"that was the scariest thing that's ever happened, and i was approached by the fbi to work for them." you reminded him.

he dropped his head, smiling sadly, "i'm sorry. i never wanted you to get involved in this."

"are you kidding? if this is what you go through every night, i never want you to be alone again." you punched him softly in the shoulder.

"awe, you're worried about me." he teased with a smirk, "don't worry, i can take care of myself," he reassured. you pursed your lips, humming.

again, thank you to everyone who sent things in! i love you all <3

taylor's tumblr-versary!

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nameless-ken · 10 months

Text

hi darlings

PLEASE DNI WITH SMUT UNLESS 18+

Masterlist

* smut

^ fluff

- angst

(Please read the WARNING mark beside each work so you know what you're about to read!!)

Bucky Barnes

Series

Unexpected

Our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi I guess we’re spending the next two weeks together.

Part 1 ^

Part 2 ^

Part 3 ^,-

Part 4 ~

Part 5 */^

Part 6 */^

Part 7 ^/-

Bring Me to Life

Bucky is a struggling single father trying to take care of his daughter when a stranger welcomes them into her home and brings a gentle love back into their life.

playlist

Part One - The Kindness of a Stranger ^/-

Part Two - Luck or Fate? ^/-

Part Three - A Home for Three ^/-

Part Four - Happy Days are Coming ^/-

Part Five - Nothing Else Matters ^/-

Part Six - No Longer Afraid ^/-

Part Seven - Breathe Easy Now ^/-

Part Eight - This is What Home Feels Like ^/-

Part Nine - Our Future is Bright ^/*

Part Ten - Your Love is All I Need

Part Eleven - More Than Anything ^/*

Part Twelve - Patience is the Greatest Virtue ^/*

Imagines/Requests

Hold Me While You Wait

Bucky gets enlisted into the war

Part 1 ^/-

Part 2 ^/-

A Second Home

Bucky finds out that Alpine has been treating your apartment like a second home

drabble ^

Promise?

It’s the morning of a huge mission that Bucky has to go on and you worry too much.

part 1 ^/-

Let the Games Begin

One-shot ^/-

I carry your heart with me

One-shot ^/-

Frank Castle

Imagines/Requests

Before You Go *

“You need a place to stay for the night?” ^/-

Dean Winchester

Imagines/Requests

making a pie with Dean ^

Instagram Stories/pictures

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Daryl Dixon

Moodboards

the more you love, the more you suffer

take my heart, daryl dixon

a beautiful disaster

our demons

Imagines/Requests

“Spend the night with me?” ^

“Of course I came for you, it’d take more than that to stop me.” ^/-

“I’ll be here, loving you even in the silence.” ^/-

“Most of my nightmares are about losing you.” ^/-

Eddie Munson

Series

Fearless

Chapter One: What Dreams Are Made Of ^/-

Chapter Two: Where You’re Meant to Be ^/-

Chapter Three: Moving Too Fast ^/-

Chapter Four: Home Sweet Home ^/-

Unforgettable

you end up as third wheel at the fair when Eddie comes to your rescue & helps makes your summer unforgettable.

Part 1 ^/-

Part 2 ^

Part 3

Imagines/Requests

“How do I know I have a crush on someone?” “Well you can’t stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they’re around and then you want to--why are you looking at me like this?” ^/-

“they would be so mad if they found out.” “fuck ‘em”. "If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?". "When we get home I'm cuffing you to the bed and going down on you all night until my jaw is sore." ^/-

Steve Harrington

Imagines/Requests

“When I’m with you, I’m not just existing, I’m living.” ^/-

Billy Hargrove

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Requests

Ribbon of Affection

Weathering The Storm

Embracing The Mirror

Roadside Assistance

Past Characters/Men I no longer write for:

Sebastian Stan

Maybe It’s Meant to Be

You fell asleep on a stranger’s shoulder during an airplane ride and you’re horrified because you’ve never met. But he tells you it’s fine and offers to buy you a coffee.

Part 1 ^/-

Part 2 ^/-

Imagines/Requests

Could you do something with Sebastian where he’s dating reader secretly and he ends up doing a PR relationship without telling her about it and she finds out online?

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Chris Evans

Series

Boundary Line

You and Chris are the only single ones in your friend group. Him, by choice. You, not so much. You’ve always been the matchmaker in your friend group so now you’ve made it your mission to help Chris find the one. But what happens when this adventure turns into absolute chaos and true feelings arise?

Part 1 ^/-

Part 2 ^/-

Part 3 ^/-

Part 4 ^/-

Part 5 ^/-

Part 6 ^/-

Sweet Tooth

You’ve just opened a bakery on a small strip in Boston, close to where Chris takes Dodger on his walks. It’s a late night when Chris is walking Dodger and is craving something sweet when he stumbles upon your shop.

Part 1 ^

Part 2 ^/-

Part 3 ^/-

Part 4 ^/-

Part 5 ^/*

Requests/Imagines

Wildest Dream ~

Guardian Angel ^/-

“Protecting you isn’t my duty but it’s my privilege.” ^/-

“Protecting you isn’t my duty it’s my privilege.” #2 ^/-

“Spend the night with me.” & “Your hands are warm.” ^

Andy Barber

Imagines/Requests

“just because I happen to hate everyone else, doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend every second of my day with you.” ^

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed.” ^

Ari Levinson

Imagines/Requests

“Your hands are warm.” & “sad, I have a blanket with all this extra room and no one to share it with.” ^

“but you’re so cheery...and [he’s] so...weird” & “just because I happen to hate everyone else doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend every second of my day with you.” ^

“Listen to me… I need to go back out there but I promise you, I'll be right back. Okay? All I want you to do is stay hidden and I'll be back before you know it.” ^/-

Henry Cavill

Imagines/Requests

“Your hands are warm” ^

“Your hands are warm” #2 ^

“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed.” ^

Series

New Year’s Day

You meet Henry on New Year’s Eve. What will this year bring for you and him? Only time will tell.

Part One - Stranger ^

Detective!Henry

Henry is the lead detective on your case. He’s made it his priority to protect you. But at what cost?

Part One - Not on My Watch ^/-

Part Two - You’re Safe With Me ^/-

Thantophobia

(n.) the fear of losing someone you love

You never imagined falling in love would be the scariest but easiest thing for you to do. Especially when it came to him.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

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buckyhoney · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this idea came from an ask i got that was just so good i couldn't help but write a little something for it! this does have major dom/sub-elements- this might get another part because daddy frank makes me wanna whore out lmao

inspired by this ask

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daddy!frank castle x sub!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, fingering, innocence kink, daddy kink, praise kink, sorry for any missed typos!

You wanted to say it, but you didn't mean to say it. It just... slipped out.

He comes to a hault, still holding your legs wide open. It was as if someone sucked all the air out of the room. Your heart is pounding against your chest and the heat of embarrassment spreads throughout your body.

You killed the moment, you thought, waiting for something to happen.

Frank's eyes go dark and his head spins with all the new ideas coming to mind. His cock ached inside his briefs at the soft- "Please, daddy!" that managed to escape your throat. He wanted needed to hear you say it again.

"What did you call me?" The rasp in his voice grew thicker and darker, watching your face wince.

"... daddy..." It was even softer than the last time.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Oh, he loved how small you sounded- how innocent you became. He found it- the thing that makes you feel tiny and submissive.

Frank yanked your hips down to meet his throbbing, clothed cock. He leans down, lips pressing against yours harshly. It's impatient and needy; he grinds himself against your cunt.

His lips trail to your jaw, his hand holding it still.

"Say it again." His voice is all you can hear.

"Daddy-" He practically moans into your ear.

"That's what we're doing now, huh? You're gonna be my baby girl-" Arousal is leaking out of you, coating your folds and seeping through the fabric of his briefs.

You whimper a pathetic 'yes', and nod frantically.

"You're gonna let daddy take care of you?" Frank curses under his breath, feeling the heartbeat against his cock.

"Gonna be daddy's favorite girl?" Your brain is foggy, and all you can do is nod.

Frank's fingers slide down the side of your body, stopping right above your clit. You whine, hiding your face in his shoulder.

"Already so responsive," His fingers dip between your folds.

He moans at how slick and sensitive you are. Frank teases your clit, circling it with his finger- watching you squrim and buck your hips. You whine once more.

"You're so impatient, little one. We're gonna have to work on that." He coos, slipping two fingers inside you.

Your cunt pulsates around him, clenching his fingers and your eyes squeeze shut. Frank chuckles as he flutters his fingers into your g-spot.

"S'good, daddy, m'fingers feel so good-" The words are strung together, but Frank still hears it.

Daddy.

"That's right, daddy's making you feel this good." He continues to thrust his fingers inside you, warming and stretching you out.

Pleasure overwhelms your body; it's a new sensation you've never felt with him before- it was better than anything either of you has felt before.

With his other hand, he pulls his cock free. It's slick with precum and begging to feel you. Frank moans when he pulls his fingers out of you.

You pout, whining at the loss of pleasure.

"You'll cum soon, little one, don't worry." Arousal is dripping from his fingers, and he brings them to your lips.

"Open up, princess." The simple instruction had your thighs squeezing together.

You part your lips, and Frank slowly pushes his two long fingers inside. Moaning around them, you hallow your cheeks- sucking off all your juices. Frank's mouth parts while he watches you suck on his fingers. He pushes further inside, and you eagerly take them with ease.

He had unlocked a level of you that he's never seen. The obedient, eager to please, submissive side of you that he has quickly become addicted to.

"You really are daddy's girl, aren’t you?"

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sunflowersandsapphires · 6 months

Text

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

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montysstuffs · 2 years

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😚💨🍃with Dbf Frank castle

Warnings: brief mentions of sex, smoking 🍃

AN: a tiny bit of a long one, but I was chillin and was like “know what would be great? If Frank/Jon were here.” So here we are. As usual, please do enjoy and I might make a smuttier one later 😙✌🏾

•your parents are on vacation, so that’s one nuisance out of your hair, besides your job. your parents aren’t really a nuisance. They can just be a bit overbearing. So when they say they’re going on vacation, you pretty much push, no, shove them out the door.

•you’re sitting on your couch as you open up your stash box after a long shower. your hair is pulled up and wet, but of course you’ll style it later. Not like you’re going anywhere. you blast your favorite music as you roll up.

•all you need was a little stress relief. To just float away on a breezy cloud as you flick open your lighter. you could already feel the fuzzy sensation, starting as a buzz in your head

•the music begins coursing through your veins with every passing second, until you’re up and dancing like no one’s watching. Singing along to the music in your robe, and messy hair.

•until the front door opens. you can’t hear it as the music is too loud. Frank is standing in the doorway of the living room. He watches you dance around to the beat of the music in nothing but a pretty robe that fell so nicely on your curves, but kept a bit to the imagination. You don’t notice as you back into him while taking another hit.

•”uhh hi”

•”hey, peaches” (god I fucking love that nickname). “Looks like you’re having a blast while mommy and daddy are away”

•you roll your eyes at him, slowly backing into the kitchen counter as he approaches you. “you don’t have to call them ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy.’ Im a fucking adult, ya know.”

•”sure you are. And that’s why you’ve got this pretty little number on. All for me?”

•you scoff and roll your eyes at his apparent cockiness. “no, actually. I was just relaxing.”the joint now hidden behind your back like he really couldn’t see you smoking just a few moments ago.

•he smirks down at you, now that he’s got you cornered. He reaches his arm behind you to grab it, but you put your hand further back. Unfortunately, Frank’s arms are a bit longer than yours.

•he plucks it with both fingers and smiles as it isn’t lit anymore. You must’ve put it out while it was behind you.

•”I won’t tell your mommy and daddy, if you let me hit”

•your eyes widen at the proposition. Your eyes searching Frank’s for some type of chink in his armor. A half-smile or something

•and there it was. That castle smirk you know all too well. He was fucking with you

•”-the blunt. I meant hit the blunt.”

•but your façade doesn’t crumble as quickly as his. It takes two to tango. You shrug your shoulders at him and cross your arms.

•” ‘s a shame. I could’ve taken you up on that offer.”

•you take the blunt back from his fingers and light it to take a hit. He is staring at you in awe, only coming back down to earth once you blow a smoke ring into his face.

TBC? 👀👀👀

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random-imagines-blog · 1 year

Text

Imagine Frank Castle taking care of you during a depression spell.

You woke up when the alarm clock started to blare. It was time for Frank to get up and go to work. He did his usual thing, rolled over, gave you a kiss. You did your usual thing, complained about his morning breath, which would make him kiss you more to spite him. Then you’d lay there in bed while he got ready, grabbed the lunch that you made the night before, and then would go. Only things were a little different behind the scenes today. You didn’t care about his morning breath. You only brought it up because you did it every day. You almost forgot to make his lunch the night before, having to drag yourself up and do it after he turned in. A lot had been slipping your mind these days. A lot of things just didn’t feel as important as they used to.

You went back to sleep. Your own alarm went off an hour later. Work. You didn’t feel like getting up, going to your computer. You couldn’t even get yourself up to do anything, much less work from home. It just felt - like too much. Too stressful. You texted your boss, and then rolled over, fell asleep again.

Countless times throughout the day, you woke up. But you didn’t get up. You had to pee but - the bathroom seemed so far away. You just held it instead. You didn’t feel that hungry either. You just - stared out the window. You should have gone to work. You should have showered. Your hair was feeling a bit greasy. You should have done the dishes. They were piled up in the sink. You should have made lunch for yourself, but - no. No, you just didn’t feel like it. You didn’t want to do anything. Pee, eat, brush your teeth.

The door opened. The sky had darkened. Frank called out that he was home. You didn’t call back. You just pushed the blankets up over your head. Hiding. Ashamed. He found you in the bed after a minute, after you heard him searching through the kitchen. You heard him set something down. He sat on the bed, causing you to roll slightly towards him. He took the blankets off of you, forcing you to face him.

“You sick or something?” He asked. You shrugged. He pressed his lips to your forehead to take your temperature. An old trick. “You don’t feel sick.”

“I’m fine,” You said. “Just - feeling...”

“Oh,” Frank said. He understood. It had been a while since you had one of your lows. But these times still came. He kissed your forehead again, pushed your hair away from your face. “I got you one of those expensive fancy fuckin’ coffees you like. Why I gotta pay six bucks for a coffee and some whipped cream, I’ll never understand-” He passed you what he had set down before. Starbucks. Your favorite. The smell hit your nostrils and you wished you could say that it was enough to make you feel better but... You shook your head. He set it back down and looked at you. “So what am I going to do with you then?”

“It’s fine, Frank, it’s just a bad day. I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Too late for me,” He said. “Come on, get up.” Against your will, he took the blanket off of you, grabbed your arms and pulled you up like you were nothing more than a ragdoll. He threw you over his strong shower. “We’re getting you in the shower and then you are not putting that six dollars to waste.”

Requested by: Anonymous

#Frank Castle #frank castle x reader #Frank Castle imagines #Punisher #Punisher imagines #Daredevil #Daredevil imagines #x reader #imagines #frankc #request

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homiesexual-or-homosexual · 1 year

Text

Apartment 5c

Pairing: Frank Castle/Punisher x reader

Warnings: based on a dream i had involving Mr. Punisher, you and your friend move to NYC, fictional violence, mentions of a handgun, mentions of blood and wounds, you help patch up Frank, some tension, cops

You and your friend had just moved to New York City. Your friend's job had offered a free flight and the first 6 months paid months in return for the big promotion she just went through. As soon as she found out, she told you. Excited and giddy, she offered you to join her in the big city, saying she could pull some strings and have your seat paid for and for a bigger apartment that would comfortably fit you both. She gave you three days to think about it, and halfway through the second you decided to join her, having done research and noting the many amazing jobs that New York offered.

It took you and your friend about a week to get settled into your apartment, only three blocks from her work. Your own job started in the next week as a higher-up book editor. Life was good.

Until now, when you arrived at your apartment door. You usually get home before your friend, so that's normal that she isn't home. But what's unusual is the fact that your front door is cracked open. You kick it open more, eyes searching the parts of the room you can see. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but your gut tells you otherwise. You start to make your way to the lobby, but don't make it far before you feel something pressed against the side of your head. You freeze, staring ahead.

"You live here?" The person asked.

You don't respond, your vocal chords dried up.

"I said," The person shoved the object against your head. "Do you live here?!"

You stutter before responding, "Ye-yes!"

"You know Clark?" The person asks.

"Clark?" You ask, confused.

"Clark Johnson?" The person pressed.

"Umm uh, no," You answer. "I've never heard of him."

"I don't believe you," The person growled.

You heard something click and panic immediately set in, but before you can plead for you life the person is shoved to the ground. It's a short-haired blond man with a handgun in his hand, probably what he had shoved against your head. You look to the side and see the man's assaultant.

There stands a tall man with short dark brown, almost black hair, and a clean-shaven face. His eyes are dark, darker as his brows are furrowed. He's wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, black jeans, and a thick vest over his abdomen that has a blood-stained skull on the majority of it. He looks towards you and then back at the blond-haired man as he races towards your possible savior.

Your savior knocks the other guy's gun from his hand and punches him in the jaw when he's close enough. The blond man stumbles, holding his jaw before charging again. He makes contact and both men tussle, fear pining you against the opposite wall of your front door, still wide open.

Blood is sprayed across the hallway walls and spilt onto the expensive-looking carpet below. The impact of punches sound throughout the hallway before the taller of the two, your savior, rushes the bad guy, shoving him down the hallway and out the end-of-the-hallway window. There's no fire exit outside those windows and your apartment is pretty high up, so you know the guy fell to his death. You hear a crash out the window and screams of the public below.

Your savior is bloody and bruises, a fat eye beginning to swell. He picks up your assaulter's gun and checks the magazine, making a grunting sound as he clicks it back into place. He eyes your doorway and then looks at you.

"Change your locks," Is what he says in a gruff voice. "Seems like he had a key."

And he's off, down the stairwell to make a quiet escape, bloody footprints highlighting his path.

You race downstairs to the lobby, as fast as an elevator will take you, and hurriedly talk to the building manager, who you and your friend have come to know well over this past week and a half, about what just happened. He helps you calm down and calls the police for you. You lead the police up to your floor and recall the details of what just happened, including the guy who was pushed out the window.

The lead cop calls for forensics and sends some of his partners down the stairwell to follow the footsteps, some to look at the body, and some to look around your apartment with you to make sure nothing is missing.

Forensics arrives, taking pictures of the blood in the hallway, the footprints in the stairwell that stop around the third floor, the body out in the street, and anything that seems to be amiss in your apartment. Your asked questions, which you answer. Your friend arrives just at the start of your explanation, asking questions as well.

Once the questioning is done, the lead cop and your manager take you and your friend down to the building's security room. The guard takes you four back to when the blond guy had used a key to open your apartment door. You all watched it til you fled downstairs.

The lead cop wants a copy of the footage and you, your friend, and the building manager's phone number so he can keep you updated on your case.

While your manager calls a locksmith to change the locks on your front door and to double-check the locks on all your windows, the lead cop is doing a second run-through of the video before he cusses quietly.

"What?" You ask, suddenly more concerned.

"That's Frank Castle," The cop answered.

"Who's Frank Castle?" Your friend asks.

"He's New York's so-called vigilante," The cop answers. "He's worse than Spiderman in Queens."

"You not a big fan of superheros?" Your friend asks.

"Superheros?" The cop laughs, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "I don't think other superheros kill as much as Castle does. He causes more loss than gain."

Your friend only hums. Turning around when the door to the security office opens. It's the locksmith. He says your locks are changed and your windows are perfectly okay, just remember to lock them when you're out or asleep.

You and your friend make your way back to your apartment when you're let go. You both mill around your apartment, putting things back to how you like it, putting the new keys on your keychains, and locking all your windows. You don't know how long it takes your friend to fall asleep, but it feels like it takes you for forever.

-- --

It's only a couple months later when something else happens. You're all alone in your apartment when it happens, your friend staying the night at her new boy toy's house. You hear something fidgeting in the living room. You investigate and find one of your living room windows all the way open and a man crawling through. You stay still at the end of your hallway, hoping that the night shadows conceal you away.

The man gets about halfway through your window before another hand reaches in and grabs the man at the base of his hair, pulling him back and slamming his head on the edge of your window. In shock, the man falls into your living room. Both men get into a tussle, impacts of fists and grunts sound throughout the room. A flash and gunshot sounds through the room followed by a yell of pain. The tussling continues, cussing and pained noises follow before they fall through the window, a fire escape outside.

Now that the two men are outside, the fight seems to get more gruesome and violent. Gunshots sounding out and maybe even the tink of a blade hitting metal before a grunt and the sound of someone falling down the fire escape stairs.

Sirens grow in the distance, and the sound of squealing tires.

The other man, the one that showed up later, scrambles inside your apartment, slamming your window shut. He wheezes, hand cupping the left side of his ribcage.

Before your brain realizes what your body is doing, the light switch is flicked on and your living room is illuminated. Standing beside your window is the man from the month before, bloody and bruised once again. What was his name? Something Castle. You're not very good with names.

You two stare at each other, shocked.

It's only when a knock sounds on your door does Castle have the notion to move, moving to slide behind your kitchen island, crouching down to hide.

You move to peer out the window and relax when you see it's a cop. You open your window and greet the officer.

"We were called to this area and we were just making sure you're okay, ma'am," the officer says.

"Umm yeah," You say. "I heard some commotion outside and was wondering what was going on."

"Nothing for you to worry about this late at night," The officer says. "Just be sure to lock your windows from now on."

You nod and bid goodnight and do as he says, closing your curtains as well. You turn and notice the blood spilt from earlier was minimum and that's why the officer didn't ask about anything that could have happened.

You hear a grunt and look to see Castle heaving himself from your floor, still wheezing.

"You got a first aid kit?" He asks.

"Um uh- yeah," You answer. "In my bathroom."

He nods and walks towards you. You take it as a sign to lead the tall man to your bedroom to get to your bathroom. You fish the first aid kit from under your sink, handing it to the man.

He sets in the counter beside your sink. Opening it and looking through your supplies. It seems your supplies is up to his standards because the tall man immediately starts stripping himself of anything that covers his abdomen.

You look away as the clothing and vest plop onto your floor, blood smudging onto the white tile of the bathroom floor. You hear the clinking of your medical supplies being shuffled around.

"Umm," You speak up. "Do you need help? I know how to stitch and stuff."

"And stuff?" Castle asks, his voice gruff.

You nod.

Castle nods reluctantly, tensing when you get close.

This close, you see a few stab wounds and a few bullet grazes, but nothing that looks life-threatening. You grab a black wash rag from under your sink, get it wet, and begin wiping Castle's chest and abdomen down, cleaning off the smeared blood. You set the rag in the sink and tear open some antibiotic wipes from your first aid kit and start cleaning up the wounds. He hisses, flinching away when you clean up one on his arm. Once done, you grab a needle and some stitching thread and get that ready. You sterilize the needle.

"Wait wait," Castle stops you. "Got any whiskey of vodka?"

"Yeah. I'll go get a bottle," You hand him the needle and fetch some of your stronger whiskey.

You unscrew the cap for him and hand the bottle to Castle. You wait for him to take a, rather large, swig before you start stitching the wounds that need it. You can tell it hurts but you can only stitch someone up right so fast. Once done, you place bandaids on the smaller wounds.

You turn to grab the rag from before, rinsing it out before using it again on his face. Your hands shake when you wipe down his face, meeting his eyes when he winces away when you wipe over a split in his left eyebrow.

"Sorry," You mutter.

Castle grunts.

You change the rag for a different antibiotic wipe, wiping around his scraps and cuts. You put bandaids on his larger cuts.

"You want an icepack for your eye?" You ask, noting the swelling under his right eye. "It'll help with the swelling."

"Sure," Castle nods.

You clean up your first aid kit, wrapping the needle in toilet paper before tossing it in the bathroom trashcan. You lead the way to your kitchen. You search for the icepack and whirl around when you find it, bumping straight into Castle's chest.

"Sorry," You mutter.

Castle wordlessly takes the icepack from your hands and puts it up to his eye, moving to sit at your kitchen island.

"Got anymore break-ins?" Castle asks.

"You remember," You note. "No, not counting tonight."

"That was less of a break-in and more of him getting away from me," Castle says.

"Cause you're New York's vigilante?" You ask.

"You meet Mr. I'm-In-Charge?" Castle asks, a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Umm.. I guess," You try to remember the cop's name that still gave you updates on your case as they tried and failed to hunt down Castle. "He's looking for you still."

"He finds any excuse to look for me," Castle says. "I'm no Daredevil in his eyes. I make more loss than gains."

"Daredevil?" You asks.

"Another one like me, not superhero and not villain."

You nod.

There's a few moments of silence between you both before you awkwardly cough.

"Well, it's late for me," You trail on. "So I'm gonna go to bed. Feel free to stay the night, but my friend comes back probably sometime tomorrow morning so try not to scare her."

"You just gonna let a random man stay in your apartment?" Castle asks.

"Considering you've saved my life at least twice, yes," You start walking to your bedroom. "Goodnight, Castle."

"Goodnight."

#aj posts #punisher #marvel #the punisher #frank castle #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #god that gif of castle is so hot #i love men covered in blood

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 years

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Rise and Shine, Brown Eyes

Frank Castle and Wife!Reader

A/N: Had this idea floating around and had to write it lol. Hope y’all enjoy! And as always, reblogs and comments are much appreciated, I love hearing you guys’ thoughts! 💜💜💜

Summary: Frank wakes up to you dancing while making breakfast and decides to join in.

Warnings: just a domestic Frank Castle and some implied smut.

Frank had woken up one morning to the chirping of the birds from outside his window, the side of his face pressed against the soft pillow as a sliver of the sun’s warm rays hit across his face in a streak of gold from the small gap in the closed curtains. The lids of his eyes were still shut as he reached his arm out to pull you to him, a small gesture that had become an instinct for him on mornings such as this. Much to his disappointment, his hand was only met with the disarrayed fabric that covered the mattress, his lashes fluttering as he opened one of his eyes to see that your spot was indeed empty. The side of the mattress that you usually slept on was cold beneath his fingertips, clashing against the warmth of his skin, but your scent still lingered behind in the sheets, a hint that you had woke up a while ago.

Letting out a soft groan, Frank pushed himself out of bed, the cotton blanket falling down his bare torso as he rested up on his elbows, his vision still adjusting from having been roused from sleep a moment ago. His brown eyes searched around for your form within the space of your shared bedroom. Nothing. Not even the sound of the shower or your singing masked gently by the running water was heard, something he had usually woken up to like a routine. Where had you gone?

Pushing the blanket off of him, Frank moved his legs over to hang off the side of the bed, the bottom of his feet coming in contact with the cold wood floors as he called out your name. “Y/n?”

Still nothing.

“The hell she go?” Frank grumbled, his throat dry and his brows furrowed as an uneasiness started to gnaw at the back of his mind from his past that still found its way to haunt him as he moved to get up from the bed before something caught his eye. A folded note propped up on the nightstand with his name written across in your handwriting. Reaching over, he picked up the note, opening the small piece of paper between his fingers and laughing quietly with a shake of his head at the words written inside and the small smiley face scribbled at the end.

Rise and shine brown eyes! (:

Now get your ass outta bed.

Setting the note back down on the nightstand, Frank pushed himself off the bed, trudging across the wooden floors with a stretch as he went to grab his t-shirt and jeans. It was quiet as he went into the small hallway, slipping on the cotton shirt until he stopped at the smell of something cooking, the aroma of butter, herbs, and freshly brewed coffee flowing into the hallway as if he had just stepped into a bakery. And as he inched closer, listening closely, he could hear the sound of music ringing out from the kitchen downstairs. And if he listened even closer, he could hear your voice harmonizing along. The music and your singing only became louder as he headed down the stairs, the wood of the steps creaking under his weight until he stopped at the foot of the stairs, peeking around the wall and into the kitchen to see you dancing around to an upbeat tune.

Frank couldn't help the smile that slipped onto his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he lowered his head with a slight shake before glancing back up at you again, his heart swelling at the sight. You looked absolutely beautiful right now. The way the sun shined through the small kitchen window and basked you in this golden light, your hair held up loosely together by your claw clip as you moved around the kitchen barefoot with spots of flour on your hands and even your face, wearing a simple floral sundress that fit loosely around you while still managing to accentuate your curves. Crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk, he leaned against the wall as he watched you with amusement, relishing in the sound of your voice while his eyes ever so slightly traced along the curves of your form and the way your hips moved rhythmically in circles to the music.

"El chico del apartamento 512 Él que hace a mi pobre corazón saltar Es a quien le hago cartas noche y día Que no puedo entregar El chico del apartamento 512 Es él quien me hace tartamuda y más Es en quien yo pienso y sueño noche y día Él, solo él!" You sung along to the lyrics, throwing your head back and using the wooden spoon in your hand as the microphone before setting it aside. Grabbing some fresh rosemary off the counter, you held the herb up to your nose, closing your eyes at the mint and pine-like smell that you loved so much. Swaying to Selena’s El Chico del Apartamento 512, you spun around on the balls of your feet, the loose strands of your hair and the skirt of your dress flowing delicately as you went over to the other side of the kitchen where you had just taken out the food that you baked, sprinkling the herb over the two ramekin bowls. You turned your head at the sound of the creaking of wood, smiling at the sight of your husband shifting his weight as he leaned against the wall.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” You smirked. “You spying on me, brown eyes?”

“Nah.” Frank chuckled. “Just came down to check and see what’s smellin so damn good…….and your singing of course.” Frank walked over to where you stood, pressing his chest to your back as he slipped his strong arms around your waist.

“Well you’re in luck. Because breakfast is almost ready.”

“Mm. Smells delicious beautiful.” Frank murmured against the skin of your shoulder, his breath warm before placing his lips to your temple.

“Just wait till you try it.” You smirked before letting out a small squeak as Frank spun you around to face him. “Frank I’m covered in flour!”

“Agh. That don’t bother me.” Frank scrunched his nose, holding you close as he started to move along to the music.

“Well look at you, I see you’ve improved. Looks like someone has taught you well.” You teased, your hands placed on his broad shoulders as you remembered the time you and Frank first danced together. The man only knew how to do the classic waltz, so when you saw him trying to dance to your music for the first time after begging him to join you, you tried your best to stifle a laugh before offering to teach him a few lessons.

You had to admit, the man was as stiff as a wooden board when you first met him, the day he first stumbled into your newly-opened flower shop to buy a bouquet for his wife’s grave. A brooding individual who smiled little and talked even less, his every move or gesture as strategic as the next. That is until he met you. And as time went on, Frank found himself finding little excuses to buy flowers from you. For a friend, one day. For my neighbor, the next. And, the little old lady down the street with the pigeons, after that. And even, for my doctor’s cat, and so on. The more Frank visited your quaint little flower shop that looked like something straight out of those pictures of the charming European towns while he browsed your selection, the more he pulled little excuses out of a hat, each one as peculiar as the next, and the more he realized he was using these excuses to see you. Until one day, he let out a ‘nice little collection you got going here.…………..You like Italian?’, at the time to which you replied ‘are you asking me out on a date, Castle?’ Who would have known you were going to marry the man who bought flowers for his doc’s cat.

Frank spun you around in the kitchen before pulling you flush to him with a soft chuckle at the gleeful expression on your face, your hand held in his as the two of you danced to Selena. His large hand was pressed to the lower curve of your back, the flesh of his palm hot even through the fabric of your dress as the two of you swayed your hips in unison. Frank pressed his forehead to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as he breathed in your comforting perfume before you felt his breath on your neck as he lowered his head to press his lips to the skin there. You almost wanted to have him right then and there. To have him lift you up with his strong arms and set you on the counter while you wrapped your legs around his torso. To have him push the skirt of your dress up to your waist, the pads of his fingertips brushing along the skin of your thighs as he trailed his way up to area in between. In fact, you would have done so if the thought of it being unsanitary did not plague your mind as the beeping of the oven made you gasp.

“Ah! The oven!” You pulled yourself away with a shriek, rushing over to the oven and throwing on your mitts before taking the tray out.

“You need any help with that?” Frank watched you set the tray on top, a hand on his hip as you picked up a small bowl of berries and a bag of powdered sugar.

“Nope!” You rang out before going over to shove your husband out of the kitchen. “I love you and no offense but the last time you offered to help cook, you nearly burned the house down. Now go sit down and look pretty while I bring everything over.”

“Alright alright.” Frank held his hands up, chuckling as you shoved him out of the kitchen with your small frame. “You’re the chef, you make the rules.” Frank turned his head back to see you going back to preparing everything, shaking his head with a smile as he went over to sit attention the dining table.

It was not long till you stepped out of the kitchen with a serving tray in hand, bringing over the food you just made with an excited grin painted on your features as you began to point them out. “I made croissants, and artichoke and parsley egg soufflés with cheese.”

“Look at you. You made all this?” Frank quirked a brow as he stared down at the food you had just cooked that looked like it came out of a fancy restaurant, from the way you scattered the pieces of rosemary over the toasted egg soufflés nestled in the ramekins, to the way you artistically placed the berries near the croissants with the powdered sugar sprinkled on top. “Baby, you didn’t have to do all this. I’m fine with some old fashioned omelettes and pancakes.”

“Oh shut it. I felt like cooking something new. Thought I’d try out that old french cookbook my friend got me that’s been sitting away collecting dust. I had to make some adjustments though and add in a few things of my own.”

“Well it looks great, amazing even. Like something out of those damn cookbooks you see everywhere.”

“Shit, it better taste amazing too.” You quirked a brow as you sat down on the chair opposite him, focusing your attention on your husband as you waited for him to take a bite.

“You ain’t gonna eat?” Frank gestured over to your soufflé with his fork held loosely between his fingers.

“You first big guy. You’re my Guinea pig from now on.”

“Oh? Is that right?”

“Mhm. Eat up buttercup.”

Your eyes trained in on his fork being cut into the soufflé, the steam escaping from the break of the dough in wisps of a transparent white while he lifted the metal fork to his mouth, unconsciously licking your lips at the sight of his. You sat in silence, twirling your fork between your fingers as you studied the details of his face in fear of his reaction. Did he like it?

Frank was quiet for a moment, his face expressionless as he moved the food around in his mouth, the warm buttery bread and its fillings practically melting on the surface of his tongue.

“Is it shit?” You couldn’t help but ask, your face dropping at his lack of response and your inability to decipher what he felt at the moment.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Frank shook his head slowly, a smile tugging at the ends of his lips before he finally spoke up. “If this ain’t the best damn breakfast I’ve ever had-“

“Wait, really?”

“You kidding me? This,” Frank gestured to the soufflé with his fork before taking another bite, “this is good shit. God I love my wife.” Frank stood up from his seat to press a quick kiss to your lips before sitting back down. “Shit, I’ll be your guinea pig, sweetheart. Don’t gotta ask me twice.”

“Oh stop.” You blushed from his little gesture, lowering your gaze with a smile as you stuck your fork into your soufflé. Despite having been married to him for damn near a year, he still managed to give you butterflies that made your stomach flutter every single time. Lifting your fork to your lips, you took a bite of your food, your eyes closing in bliss as a moan elicited itself from the back of your throat from the way the buttery and herby flavors melted into your tongue.

“Holy shit this is good.” You opened your eyes back up with a sway of your head, stuffing yourself another mouthful of the warm cheesy and buttery goodness.

“What did I say?” Frank smiled. “My wife, the chef.”

“Don’t go stroking my ego now.” You pointed your fork at him playfully.

“Hey. Imma compliment you whenever I want.” Frank smirked as he beamed at you, his heart swelling at the sight of a woman who loved him through everything as he loved her. “I couldn’t have asked for a better wife.”

“And I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.”

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle imagine #Frank castle imagines #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x oc #frank castle x female reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fluff

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 2 years

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I See You In My Dreams

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Requsted - Yes, @pokey-hedgehog, I'm so sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy it🤎

Prompts - Forehead kiss, sleepy hug, "I had a nightmare about you and I wanted to make sure you were okay." & "It'll be alright, it was just a nightmare."

You shot upright in your bed, head spinning at the speed in which you’d shifted from laying down to sitting up. The bedsheets moved with you, falling from your chest to gather around your waist as your fingers buried themselves into the fabric. You could hear the sound of your heart hammering in your chest, the sound seemingly echoing around the whole room and your breaths came out in quick little pants that made you even dizzier.

You knew it had been a nightmare, it was one version of the same nightmare you’d been having for months now, each time it ended the same way even if the events leading up to the outcome differed.

Usually you were able to calm down, able to control your breathing and ground yourself with reality. Usually waking up after this nightmare had you lying awake for an hour or so before you finally drifted off again but tonight was different.

Tonight your brain refused to cooperate with the rational side of things, the side that told you Frank was in the room right next to yours, alive and breathing. Logically you knew he was safe but there was a pit in your stomach, anxiety spreading through your whole body as flashes of Frank’s dead body filled your mind and tears began to fall down your cheeks.

Ever since Frank had unintentionally saved you from the gang you had been sold to years ago you had been in his care, no family to speak of and nowhere to call home. You knew at first Frank hadn’t expected you to live with him but after a few months he had confessed to you one night that he didn’t want you to leave, that you always had a space here, had a place that was home.

Before he had told you that you were still keeping yourself closed off from the man, of course you soaked up his kind touches and soft words, things you hadn’t experienced in as long as you could remember, but you also didn’t want to get too attached, knowing the man would want you gone as soon as possible. Once he had told you he wanted you to stay things shifted between the two of you, you started seeking out his comfort without him needing to initiate it first, now if you were having a bad day you didn’t feel scared to curl up next to him with your head on his shoulder, waiting for his arm to wrap around you and pull you even closer and talk openly with him.

Life with Frank was easy, it was nice, and you were so glad he had found you all those months ago.

He hadn’t had an easy time getting you out though, you knew every secret that the gang had, people were quite willing to speak around you, not seeing you as a person so much as a thing to be beat on and snapped at. Frank had you behind him, his jacket covering your body as he shot gang member after gang member. You were so relieved to be finally getting out, to see that these men couldn’t hurt you anymore but when one peaked out from his hiding spot, spotting Frank before Frank saw him and fired bullet after bullet you felt your heart stop and your blood run cold, tears falling faster down your face as you began to mourn both your freedom and the man who hadn’t hesitated to pull you out, to put himself between you and the rain of bullets.

In reality, Frank stumbled back with the force of the bullets but otherwise didn’t seem too concerned as he turned his own gun and fired it once, hitting the man straight away and you could only watch through shocked, bleary eyes as his body slumped to the ground lifelessly. When he moved forward but realised you weren’t following him he turned around in concern and you sobbed in relief as you saw the bullet proof vest, Frank’s eyes softening as he pulled you into his arms and led you out of the building, one hand cupping the back of your head to keep you buried against his chest and not able to see him kill more people.

In your dreams it was always different versions of the same thing. Sometimes Frank didn’t have the protection of the bulletproof vest, sometimes the gunman aimed for Frank’s head, each time you were frozen to the spot, helpless to do anything but sink to your knees beside the lifeless body and sob into his chest. The dreams became more intense, more real, more terrifying the closer you got to Frank. Losing him when he had first taken you from the gang would have hurt but if it happened now you weren’t so sure you would recover.

Finally the overwhelming anxiety and fear became too much as your head produced image after image of Frank dead in a pool of his own blood and you had to pull yourself from the bed, every inch of your body shaking despite the fact that you felt like you were on fire and beads of sweat pooled on your forehead.

You quickly but quietly made your way out of your bedroom door and over to Frank’s. The door was already left half open, something you knew Frank did to let you know you were welcome at any time, something which you were immensely grateful for now as you slipped through the gap and into his room.

It was still dark outside but the streetlights casted enough of a glow that you could see Frank lying in bed, unfortunately the blankets covered his chest so you couldn’t just quietly confirm that he was in fact still breathing and slip out again. Instead seeing him so still had more tears sliding down your face and your breathing quickening even though it was already impossibly fast already.

You stepped closer until your legs knocked against the bed and huffed a sigh of relief as Frank shifted before his eyes opened, heavy with sleep before they filled with concern and he sat up, immediately reaching for you, and pulling you down onto the bed with him, his arms wrapping around you and pressing you against his chest. Frank rocked the two of you back and forth in an attempt to calm you down but something about seeing that he was alright seemed to cause your sobs to louden and your breathing to become even more erratic.

“M’sorry, m’sorry,” You managed to choke out between sobs but the man just shushed you, continuing to rock you in his arms.

“None of that now, sweetheart.” Frank murmured, pressing his lips to your temple, and feeling how hot and sweaty the skin was. “You’re alright, I’ve got ya, I got ya, kid.”

“I had a nightmare,” you sobbed into his chest, somehow forcing the words out even with how much your chest hurt from your sharp breaths, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m alright, kid, I’m right here, not going anywhere, you don’t gotta worry about that.” Frank told you softly but firmly as his heart ached at seeing his kid in such a state.

“You’re okay?” You managed to ask again and Frank pulled you back far enough so you could see his face and the soft, comforting smile he gave you.

“I’m okay, ain’t nothing gonna happen to me.” He promised and with those words you sagged against him, Frank felt the tension leave you as you melted into him, gripping his shirt like it was your only lifeline. “Hey, you wanna copy my breathing for me? Deep breaths in and out for me, yeah just like that, attagirl,” Frank praised, feeling himself relax as your breathing finally began to slow into a normal rhythm. “That’s my girl, that’s my girl, good job, you’re okay, I got ya.”

It felt like it had been hours but finally your breathing was steady, your chest still ached but you could breathe easier now and your sobs had slowed to sniffles as a result of the constant rocking and comforting words being whispered by Frank.

Now you were just left feeling exhausted and drained, any bit of energy you had had simply disappeared but you still pulled back slightly, not going far but far enough so you could look up at Frank who gave you a soft smile, letting one of his hands come up to wipe at your cheeks softly.

“I saw you die.” You whispered, afraid that saying the words out loud would make them true but instead Frank’s smile widened a small bit and he shook his head.

“I ain’t dying on you, don’t gotta worry about that.” Frank assured you, using the hand on your cheek to guide your head towards him so that he could lean down slightly and press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead which you easily relaxed into, making no move to pull away until he did. “It’ll be alright, it was just a nightmare, you ain’t getting rid of me that easy.”

The words pulled a laugh out of you that sounded strained but still made Frank’s face light up as he looked down at you and you pulled your arms from where they were trapped between your body and Frank’s to wrap them around his waist, Frank not even hesitating to wrap you in his arms again, holding you close.

You felt your eyes become heavy and found them falling shut as you hugged Frank, one of his hands running up and down your back in a way that made it even easier to relax into him and you couldn't help but cuddle further into him, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt more than heard his chuckle from your place against his chest.

You had figured you weren’t getting any sleep for the rest of the night, figured your emotions would be too all over the place and mind too distracted but by the time Frank was repositioning the two of you so that you were laying down in his bed, you resting more on him than the mattress you found you were already more than halfway asleep and couldn’t find the strength to open your eyes again.

The last thing you felt before you fell asleep was Frank’s lips on your head and his softly murmured assurance that he was ok, that you could sleep now and he’d watch over you before you did as he said and drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep safe in the man’s arms, the steady beat of his heart under your head letting you know he was safe too.

___________________

Frank Castle Taglist -

@call-me-a-fool, @sylvies4ever, @lucyysthings, @freeshavocadoooo, @writeroutoftime, @srhxpci @mrslizzyolsen, @shatteredlovesick, @ack3rlevi, @avengersbabe13, @bxmaaa, @lucyysthings

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle imagines #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #the punisher imagines #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #nmcu imagines #nmcu x reader #frank castle x daughter reader

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dameronology · 6 months

Note

Maybe now some protective (and fluffy) Frank Castle? 💗

fluffy and protective frank is the best kind of prank

frank is protective from day one; you're probably the only person left on this earth that he actually gives a shit about, and he will act accordingly. maybe it's a little over the top sometimes but hell, can you blame him?

it's nothing drastic. nothing that drastic. sure, you might have to convince him that you don't need him to escort you to the shop that is literally below your apartment but like...it's nice that he cares.

and maybe he insists on you sleeping furthest from the door, so he's first to see an intruder. and maybe after a few months he can't sleep without knowing you're beside him. but they're all just a stark reminder that, despite popular belief, frank is a human being

that over-protectiveness crosses into tenderness; the way he sleeps with his chest against your back at night, arms wrapped tightly around you, head buried in your neck. the way he kisses you goodbye in the morning, and then again in the evening. the way he seems slightly panicked when you're a few minutes late home, or when your phone dies.

frank never sees his love for you as a weakness. if anything, it's his strength. it's the thing that keeps him going, the thing that makes him want to come at the end of a shit night.

and god forbid anyone ever lay a finger on you, because he's rabid at the best of times but he will lose every last bit of mercy should anyone come near you. it's a side of him he'd never want you to see, but equally, you know it's there.

you know frank loves you because he lets you look after him too; letting you hold him after a ptsd attack, actually opening up to you about stuff that not even the world's most expensive therapist could get out of him. he lays himself bare to you and that speaks louder than anything.

#asks #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #frank castle fluff #frank castle headcanons #punisher x reader #punisher imagines #punisher imagine #the punisher #frank castle

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ilyasorokinn · 1 year

Note

congrats again taylor :) can i request number 36 (“because i fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”) from the dialogue promt list with frank castle?

UNEXPECTED PLANS

this is my first frankie piece, so i hope i do him justice.

36. "because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” (from this prompt list, fluff)

tw: police

you had everything under control. everything was going perfectly fine. you had planned it all out and gone over the plan a thousand times before you exacted it.

you were going to break in, take what was stolen from you by the police, and get the hell out. but of course, nothing went according to plan.

due to a big crime bust, the police station was booming and everyone and their mother was there. so, you had to change your plans. you used the busyness in your favor and walked into the station with a group of people.

you broke away from them and turned down the hallway where you knew all the evidence and stolen items were. you swiped the stolen card and got into the room.

but apparently, another cop had the same idea as you. he caught you snooping through the bins, searching for your stolen item. you were put through the system and locked in a cell with all the other weirdos and creeps.

"do i, at last, get a phone call?" you asked.

"no, shut up." the cop on watch snapped.

"pretty pretty please? with a cherry on top?" you begged, flashing him a smile.

he sighed, rolling his eyes, "fine, but no funny business." he unlocked the door and led you over to a phone, hovering over you as you dialed.

it rang and rang and you were scared for a moment that he wouldn't pick up. when he finally answered, you didn't even let him get a word in, "is this castiglione pizza?" whenever either of you was in trouble, you had a code. castiglione pizza was the fake company you used to tell the others you were in trouble.

"yes, it is. how can i help you?" frank asked.

""yeah, "i'd like to order a medium pie," you answered, glancing up at the police officer who was suddenly interested elsewhere.

you heard him groan, "what'd you this time?"

"no toppings." although no one was looking, that didn't mean no wasn't listening.

"all right, i'll come pick you up." he sighed, "and where would you like this delivery?" you rattled off the address of the police station, "what the hell are you doing out there?"

"please deliver it quick, i'm pretty hungry," you begged.

"all right, all right, i'm comin'." he heard his keys jingle from the other end, "hang tight." you set the phone back on the receiver and looked up at the officer.

"you use your phone call for pizza? really? would've expected a call to get someone to pick you up."

"i heard the other officers talking. probably won't be getting released any time soon, i decided to use my one call for something useful."

"smart girl."

"that's what i've been told you." you nodded. he led you back down to the cell. you took a seat on the ground and waited. knowing where frank was and where he lived, he probably wouldn't be there for 20 minutes.

about 20 minutes, you heard commotion from the bullpen then quick footsteps coming down the hall to where the cell is, "y/n?" you heard frank call out.

"frankie?" you asked.

"what the hell did you do?" he asked, quickly trying to unlock the big gate.

"oh, ya know, getting my stuff they stole back." you shrugged.

"geez." he shook his head, finally getting the door unlocked. once it was opened, he shoved it out of the way and you wrapped your arms around him, "all right, we gotta go before someone notices that every single prisoner in here is gone."

you turned around and saw everyone in the cell was now gone and running to the back door, "let's go." you followed after them and took the back door entrance.

once back at his apartment, you were ready for bed and waiting for him. he came out of the bathroom and noticed you sitting on his bed, "what's up?"

"thanks for coming to get me. i'm sure you had other things to do."

"nothing as important as you." you smiled, which made him smile.

"why'd you do it though? why'd you drop everything for me?"

"because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” your eyes widened, which frank didn't take as a good sign, "oh, god." he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "you know what? forget i said anything."

"i fell for you, too." you cut him off.

"are you just saying that? because that's just a mean joke."

"no, i'm not just saying that. i mean it." you stated.

"awesome," he smirked, hopping into bed next to you, turning off the light, then throwing an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

"wait, aren't we gonna talk about it?"

"the way i see it, things are very easy. you like me, i like you, we're together." he shrugged.

"okay, caveman." you laughed.

taylor's 2.5k celly!

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buckyhoney · 2 years

Text

frank castle has never done anything wrong in his life!

hung 30 men on meat hooks? no he didn’t. kidnapped a senator? i didnt see a thing. shoved his thumbs through a mans eyes? he deserved it. murdered countless men? yeah and he look sexy doing it

i will defend my man till the day i die😤

#frank castle #jon bernthal #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle oneshot #frank castle imagines #frank castle headcanon #frank castle fluff #frank castle blurb #frank castle drabble #frank castle x female reader #marvel #the punisher #mcu #jon bernthal fluff #jon bernthal blurb #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut

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ultrablackwidower · 2 years

Text

If Walls Could Talk

Frank Castle x reader Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Physical Injuries Length: 2k Words

But all because it felt like old times, it didn’t mean it was. Two years was a long time, and if the apartment walls could talk they would have been telling him all the ways she, too, had changed.

There was very little left of the soldier he had met. Now, half heaved over herself, was just a woman made of chaos. She was a closed discussion with no beginning or middle. Instead of the meat, she had somehow become the maggot. Went from soldier to hitman. From hitman to…this.

It had been three days since she had been home.

Home was the shittiest one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in the darkest part of New York City. It was a kitchen tap that never stopped dripping, a living room with one leather couch that was half bleached from the sun that pushed itself through the dirty windows. Windows that were covered in newspapers. But at least it was somewhere for her to rest her bones.

And how her bones ached.

Fighting a few gangsters wasn’t anything new to her. Yet when she stalked her way into that garage, she found she had miscalculated the number of friends they’d have during his recon phase. Two weeks of searching, of waiting, of watching— down the fucking drain. And she was surprised a few of her teeth didn’t go down with it.

Big guns, lots of ammo, and a huge space to cover. The disadvantage was all hers from the moment she made herself known, and the rest of them followed suit. But she thought she had things handled until the weight of a heavy chain swung around her throat and yanked her off of her feet. Landed on her back with bone-breaking force before her attacker began to drag her around like an abused cat.

The only reason she got out alive was because a bullet went through his head. A sniper shot from somewhere far enough away that she didn’t even hear it. Barely noticed a window in the garage shatter while she strangled out her breath, clawed at her neck and prayed her windpipe wasn’t crushed.

A ghost had saved her. Another jackass she now had to be weary of— they had obviously seen her there at the crime scene, had watched long enough and waited. Which meant they had an agenda of their own, and she needed to know if it would put them in her way or not.

It was all she could think about as she tossed her apartment keys into the bowl by the front door and staggered to her sink. The stink of blood was all over her. Clinging to her skin, clothes and hair. It wasn’t all her own, but she knew how much red she coughed up when the chain went slack around her throat. Could feel the break of the rib rattle at her side every time she inhaled and exhaled.

As much as she hated to admit mission failure, she knew most of the blood was her own.

She fucked this one up.

It felt like she was four minutes from a heart attack as she pressed a warm washcloth to her face and began to scrub at her skin. She knew a layer would be missing before she could see her own colour again. Everything tingled with agony. There was so much pain running through her body that it all blurred together, ran her on autopilot.

That instinct was the only thing that moved her when she heard the floorboard creak in her living room. Her limbs moved on their own to drop the cloth onto the old hardwood as she spun, kitchen knife flinging from her hand.

It flew through the air with the quietest whistle, only to be swiftly sidestepped by a massive figure dressed in all black. Combat boots lazily tied, laces stretched and well-loved. A hood pulled low over a face that glowered at her from its shadow.

“Still ain’t fast enough,” a familiar gruff voice huffed, hands in his pockets.

She felt herself let out a laugh. It was a crazed sound, one that was borderline delirious and made up of only amused disbelief. Leaning back against the counter, her body began to relax. Adrenaline was sweating itself out of her and she knew it was only a matter of time before she crashed. So, while it was lasting, she wanted to use it.

Needed to keep herself on her two feet if she was gonna greet an old friend.

“Frank fucking Castle. You look pretty alive for a dead man.”

He pulled his hood back, ran his hand over his head. She stared at him, wondering what she must look like from his point of view if he looked this different after two years. His clean military buzz-cut was replaced with soft waves that brushed against his neck, nose was a big more crooked too. Broken a few more times. Those soft eyes of his were now hardened and watchful, moons beneath them as though he wouldn’t be able to remember when he last had a good night of sleep if she dared to ask.

The only thing familiar about him was his imposing beauty. Dark and wonderful.

“And you look like shit,” Frank said to her in reply, dropping the duffel bag from his shoulder onto her couch. “Serves you right, getting into situations you can’t always get yourself out of.”

With a roll of her eyes, she pressed her lips together. Of course. “And do I have you to thank for that expert shot?”

She remembered the gasp of relief that squeaked out of her when that chain went slack. Being dragged against a concrete floor by a garrote had felt like she was going to be ripped apart. Head at one end of the garage, body twitching on the other. But she didn’t feel entirely grateful; if he had been watching her, it would’ve been nice if he had stepped in a bit earlier. Maybe even given her a helping hand through the whole fight.

But he wouldn’t be her Frank if he didn’t see a lesson in it that needed teaching the hard way. There was nothing better than a bit of tough love. They learned that together on the battle field back in Iraq.

“You don’t have to thank me. Because now you owe me,” he answered with a chuckle, finding her annoyance amusing.

“Will a beer suffice?” she asked, stumbling toward her scratched up refrigerator, barely being able to open it when she began to feel the pain making itself known again.

Somehow, he ended up behind her. His strong arm snaked under hers and plucked the first dark bottle he could reach, and popped the cap off the edge of the countertop. Just like old times— like there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world, and this was just a pit stop for them to enjoy. A beer, a bit of takeout, and maybe a cigarette smoked out an open window.

But all because it felt like old times, it didn’t mean it was. Two years was a long time, and if the apartment walls could talk they would have been telling him all the ways she, too, had changed.

A woman who looked death in the eye and laughed, daring for it to take her. Sometimes, she even wished it did. Especially now, as she declined to take a beer for herself knowing that it would do nothing to her but burn. And she didn’t want any more pain.

Didn’t know if she could take it right now.

“Glad you’re still so easily satisfied—” she began, suddenly feeling something catch in her throat.

She sputtered and coughed, feeling like she was choking on her own oxygen. She fell with the impact of the shudder, crashing to her knees and elbows, desperately trying to push something up. The taste in her mouth was vile. Sour and coppery, mixed with salty sweat as it rolled down her face. She was suffocating.

Until she felt something hot on her tongue and spat it out.

A huge black and red blob that showed her reflection as she stared at it, completely dumbfounded. It had been a while since she had so much internal damage.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Frank hissed, nearly spilling his beer as he set it on the counter and knelt next to her. Brushed her hair back from her face as she took one deep breath in. Then out. Then rolled onto her back like a dying animal.

She could feel the blood from her mouth drip down her jaw and toward her ears as she laid there, ready to never move from this spot ever again. “This? It’s nothing,” she said hoarsely. “I’d rather look like this than a hipster.”

He chuckled at her, the sound filled with little amusement as he hooked one arm under her knees and the other to cradle behind her shoulders. She heard herself whimper as he lifted her off of the floor. Like she weighed no more than a bag of feathers to him.

“Shut your mouth before I decided to drop you,” he said, a softness to his face as he carried her across the apartment and into her bedroom.

It was small. Had only a side table, a rack of clothes against the wall, and a mattress on the floor with a lamp in the corner. But it was comfortable enough. She had hid herself away here enough days, hiding from her own demons, and had grown to love its bare necessities.

Frank set her down gently, having to kneel in order to set her down. He had pulled back her blankets to make sure she could be covered up again, taking off her boots before he did so. Tucking her in like precious cargo being secured in the back of a plane.

It made her wonder where he had gone for two years. Made her wonder why she hadn’t been good enough for him to stay. They had fought alongside each other both on the battlefield, and in this concrete jungle of a city. And just when she looked at him and felt brave enough to tell him how beautiful he looked even when covered in someone else’s blood, or sat on the floor with tears in his eyes and no hope in his hands….he left her.

Just like everyone else.

And when he brushed her hair back from her forehead and began to stand, starting for the bedroom door, she felt like he was doing it again. Was leaving before she could ask him how he was, and what he had been doing living as a ghost, and why he was here if he was happy enough being dead instead of here. With her.

It was worse than any physical pain that could’ve been inflicted.

She shot her hand out, gripping a spot of loose fabric on the back of his black jeans. She didn’t know why she did it, her eyes fluttering shut against her will. There was a terrible fear bubbling in her chest saying if she fell asleep, she’d wake up and realize he was just a dream. Just another ghost coming and going.

“I’m glad you came back,” she whispered.

The fabric slipped out of her grasp and she could feel nothing but weight overcome her. Exhaustion and pain were drugging her, and she didn’t care about the dried blood in her bedsheets, or the agony she would be in when morning came. Maybe she was dead already and didn’t know it yet. Maybe she was here, alone, just like she always was.

And it was why she wasn’t sure if she imagined the edge of the mattress dipping next to her. She wasn’t sure if the softness of something pressing against her cheek was real; if the warm breath she felt was really there or not.

All she knew for certain as she fell into sleep was that if it was real, she may not remember in the morning.

Maybe Frank knew that too, because when he spoke he did so after unconsciousness took over her. “It’s good to be home.”

#Angst #marvel #jon bernthal #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fix #frank castle imagines #frank castle imagine #the punisher #punisher #the punisher imagine #frank castle drabble #mine #if walls could talk fic #if walls could talk #daredevil #jon bernthal fic #jon bernthal imagine

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 2 years

Text

Stitches // BONUS

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: It's mother's day!

Warnings: mention of smut at the end

This is very short and sweet <3 Happy Mother's Day to all mothers, aunts and caregivers out there today!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 BONUS

MASTERLIST

---

"Happy mother's day Mariah."

Frank placed a bouquet of her favourite flowers on her grave, kissed the tips of his fingers and touched her headstone. Although he now had a lovely lady waiting back at home for him and a new family of his own, he'd never forget the three that were no longer there with him.

"Dada..dada.." Rowan babbled away in his father's arms, pinching Frank’s cheeks with his chubby hands.

"Alright buddy, let's go."

Leaving the cemetery behind, Frank headed for his truck to strap Rowan into his seat and got in before pulling away from the curb. He left Y/N in bed this morning to get her some flowers and a few other things to surprise her with during the course of the day. Frank wanted her to sleep in today without any disturbances hence he brought Rowan along with him.

The drive home wasn't a long one, Frank pulled up to the curb and killed the engine before getting out to get to his son as well as the stuff he bought. Rowan had spent the entire drive back babbling and squealing in delight while he played with his toy that played music with each button he pressed. Frank swore he was going to shove that toy down Foggy's throat whenever he saw him again.

Once the front door was shut behind them, he placed the toddler on the ground and handed him the bouquet of white lilies.

"Take this to mummy, Row." Frank whispered to the child who eagerly walked off to the dining table where Y/N was having her cup of coffee.

"Mum..mum."

"Oh my goodness, thank you baby." Y/N took the bouquet from his tiny hands and kissed his cheeks before he could run off to play with his toys in the living room. Frank walked over to her and tipped her head back using his thumb and index finger.

"Happy mother's day sweetheart."

"Thank you." He leaned down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Get a room you two." Amy joined the pair at the table causing them to break apart as she wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck from behind, kissing her cheek in the process.

"Happy mother's day, thank you for being such a great mom to Rowan and I, love you Y/N."

"I love you too Amy."

"I got you a few other things." Frank placed the bag in front of her and she dug through the contents. He'd gotten her the chocolates she loved as well as some other things she'd been craving for lately.

"I appreciate it. Now, who's hungry?" Amy took that as her cue to get started on breakfast, brushing off Y/N’s offer to help.

"Just know that this was the savory gift I could've given you around those two. Tonight you're all mine." Frank lightly nibbled on her ear, teasing her.

Y/N bit down on her bottom lip just thinking about the sex that they were going to have once they went to bed for that night.

"You're such a tease Mr. Castle."

---

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @panaitbeatrice @n3ssm0nique @mintphoenix @inas-thing @sketch-and-write-lover @friskae @bernthalbabe43 @trinkets01 @blackcat420 @justreadingficsdontmindme @bakingpotatoes21 @hardcoppizzasludge @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @chrisfucksblog @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @youarethereasonimsmiling @juxtaposition-exe @wanda-1 @katzenwahnsinn @v0idl1nq @winksasleeplesseye

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