#frank castle request
Note
Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️
i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤
I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't
warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it)
word count: 4.1k
the blip.
A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.
You were gone.
Year One.
This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.
Did he?
It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.
Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to.
Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different.
He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them.
As soon as you came home.
But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.
But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.
Year Two.
The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.
Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.
It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.
You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.
Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.
Year Three.
Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie.
The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight.
All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.
Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.
Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.
“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”
Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.
Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years.
He prayed.
“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”
Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?
Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.
As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.
“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”
Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”
“Frank-”
“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”
Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.
“You’re drunk-”
“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”
“Look, whoever you lost-”
“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”
Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.
“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”
“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”
Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.
“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”
Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.
“She ain’t comin’ back-”
“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”
The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.
“Don’t do that.”
“You have to have faith, Frank-“
“I don’t, Red.”
“I do.”
Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy.
What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?
“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”
A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now.
What was one more?
Year Four.
Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.
Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.
While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.
Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.
Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.
Except for Matt.
And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.
Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.
“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”
“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”
After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.
“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”
“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”
“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”
The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.
He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.
As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.
Year Five.
The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.
“What is it, Daisy?”
The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.
“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”
The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment.
“Sweetheart?”
His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.
“Frank?”
God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home.
Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.
“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”
Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“You’re really here.”
“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”
As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.
“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”
Five seconds ago.
Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.
When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.
“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”
“Gone? What-”
“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”
Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.
“Okay.”
As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.
“Hi there, precious.”
“Daisy.”
Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.
“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”
Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.
“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”
Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.
“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”
tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
#frank castle#frank castle x you#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle request#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher request#the punisher fic#matt murdock#daredevil
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Pretty and Sweet
Frank Castle x F!Reader
request: Omg I got Drabble in my mind Please write Frank Castle being obsessed with reader wearing Lacey pinky clothes because she looks cute in it and then he says things like“Such a pretty girl” “you look adorable in this I should get you clothes, would you like that sweetheart?”Or him being a soft dom and overstiming the reader in their lingerie“Just one more sweet girl”“your shaking honey” Just like praising her the whole time and being sweet but is being rough 🤭 Frank just gives that vibe he’d be so sweet
warnings: pet names, explicit language, smut, teasing, fingering (f!receiving), sub!reader, dom!frank
word count: 1k
a/n: i haven't done requests in sooooo long I'm not even sure if I know what to do anymore. I know this tool a lot longer than it probably should and I'm aware its not exactly what you asked for anon but i did my best i hope you get to enjoy it. If you end up reading it please let me know what you think!
“You gonna wear all that and then try to tell me you weren't trying to get my attention, sweetheart. Huh?”
Frank's voice rumbles through the air, filling the dark space of the bedroom the moment his body leans over yours. You smile a soft innocent smile, contrary to the current situation you found yourself in.
“I just thought they were pretty.”
Dragging your finger over the straps of the pastel pink lingerie, you trace your eyes up and back to his face. The warm feeling at the bottom of your stomach gradually grows stronger as you let Frank's eyes skim over your body. His big hands were on either side of your head, his chest hung in the air over your own, one of his knees now wedged between your legs.
“Yeah?”
The firm frown on his face makes the muscles in your thighs twitch slightly and for a second you wonder if he noticed. He did. His eyebrows raise slightly and an unimpressed expression on his face when he glances down and back up into your eyes the second your body betrays you.
“Really?”
You fight with yourself, trying to play this off as nonchalantly as possible but you know, you know with Frank, with the way he knows his way around you, that's nearly impossible.
“One question is all it takes to get to you, sweetheart?”
“Frank.”
You begin to explain yourself, the heat on your face prickling slightly when his eyes trace over your body one more time.
“Shh shh shh.”
That goddamn whisper. You swallow hard, feeling his thumb brush over the edge of your lower lip. The pounding in your chest picks up slightly.
“Just wanted me to see you in this, huh?”
You nod, a silent confirmation followed by Frank's quiet, low chuckle.
“Right so, let's say I believe you, yeah?”
With your eyes fixed on his you listen, your chest rising and falling faster than before when his hand finally caresses your body.
“Do you like it?”
You whisper, your hand now resting on his bigger one. His fingers brush over your sides, over the soft fabric of the lacy details. Frank scoffs, not at your question, only at the fact that you try to question the way he could feel about this.
“Really gonna ask me that?”
Tracing over the straps, his eyes drop one more time. Following his gaze, his fingers trace over the many straps and buckles of your pastel pink lingerie set. You watch as he lets out a quiet grunt, followed by a hum when his eyes shut for a moment.
“Such a pretty girl, huh?”
Mumbling the praise he finds your eyes again, a split second before your body involuntarily reacts to his words.
“All that for me?”
Squirming under his body, you nod quickly. The need for his touch rises with every other minute he chooses to devote to letting the situation get the best of you.
“Frankie, answer me.”
Feeling brave, you use the pet name to get his attention. His focus is now on your face once more, eyebrows raised, impressed with your choice of words.
“Oh, look at that, using your big girl words today?”
Moving his knee to the side, Frank pushes your legs apart slightly more. His hands are still on your side, rubbing over your exposed skin. The touch feels reassuring and so do his words.
“Just want to know if you like the set. I picked it up in the store I thought it-”
“Sweetheart, the only place this thing would look better is right there on the floor.”
He nods his head to the side and you feel yourself getting warmer again. Rising your hips slightly, you gently grind against his leg once, then pause, waiting for his response.
“You wanna ruin these? Hmm, you think it's worth it, sweetheart?”
Dragging his fingers down your stomach and then over the fabric, Frank begins to rub slow, gentle circles over your center through the pink fabric. Your lips part with a quiet gasp and your fingers wrap tightly around his free hand. The touch you’ve waited on for so long now, finally where you wanted it the most. Thankful for his decision,you breathe out relieved. Relaxing your body into Frank's palm, you confirm your desire for his attention.
“That okay? Hmm? Can I touch you here, baby?”
The pressure intensifies slightly, your breath hitches, legs pressing together faster than you can even attempt to stop it.
“Mhm.”
You murmur, not wanting his question to remain hanging in the silence of the room.
“Think we're gonna have to get rid of those, huh, sweetheart?”
The question rings out in your head as you try your best to focus on Frank's words once more. Hooking his fingers over the waistband of the lower part of the pink underwear, he pulls the fabric down, his body moving as he leans closer to you. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, he presses a gentle kiss right under your belly button. His warm kisses follow the soft sensation of the fabric brushing over your skin while Frank exposes more and more of you with every kiss.
Finally touching you without the barrier of the garment, Frank chuckles softly, satisfied but not surprised with how much the whole situation got to you.
“Attagirl, you like that, huh?”
Paired with his touch the question has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and you dig your nails into his palm.
“Fr-”
You start, but pause, biting your lip once he slips his finger inside you slowly.
“Shhh shhh shhh, that's it, sweet girl, that's it.”
Turning his head to the side, he plants the kiss on the inside of your thigh, the touch even softer than the kisses from moments ago. After pulling them out, he pushes his fingers inside again, then again and again. The repeated motion picks up pace as he begins to work his thumb over your clit.
“Oh f-mmmm.”
You hum, and he scoffs loudly, breaking the overly sweet character. He can't help but tease you and your hips buck up slightly.
“Shit, sweetheart, really? That much?”
“Frank-”
“You wanna say something? Hmm? Think you’ll have to speak up, baby.”
The pet name contrasts with the teasing character of the statement and your body reacts one more time.
“Cause if you won't talk sweetheart. I think this will take a long, looong time.”
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I am but a simple whore humbly requesting some frogging with a jealous frankie in a bathroom stall at a bar 😇 (I thought the gif might spark inspo or just rile you up like it did me)
congratulations on your milestone angel!!! you deserve it so much and I LOVE YOU MWAH 💘💋🫶🏻
a/n: honestly just how dare you plop this idea in my brain. how dare you. you know what you're doing... you know exactly what you're doing... like I don't fucking stop breathing every time I see him take off his belt..... ahhh I think I'm gonna pass out (also I never write smut with this little dirty talk, but that was just the vibe. needy, desperate, silent. at least the beginning, what I wrote... in my head they start screaming by the end)
word count: 887
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“Wow, Frank,” you protest as the bison of a man pushes you into the vacant bathroom, “what are you doing here?” pushing his strong hands off of you as the door slammed behind him.
“What am I-, what are you doing here?” he growled, towering over you.
Crossing your arms, you scoffed at his audacity, “I am allowed to go out and have a drink.”
Narrowing his dark eyes at you, he shook his head lightly and uttered, “you were not just having a drink. If you wanted just a drink, then you would have stayed at home.”
“And why would you care?” you sighed, completely over his bullshit, wanting so badly to just push passed him and return to your reckless plan of blowing off some steam and perhaps finally getting over the bastard standing in front of you right now.
His sturdy nose lightly twitched a second as his eyes drifted down your face, taking your breath away completely when he then unexpectedly reached out and pulled you into a fevered kiss. Reeling, a shuttering breath escaping your lungs as you eventually melted into the reality of what you had dreamed about for so long.
“Because,” he pulled back, hands still lingering in your hair, “I can’t stand the thought of someone else so much as looking at you.”
Instead of scrambling your brain for the right words to respond with, you simply let your body lead and yanked his head back down to capture his lips with your own once more. Soon your tongue was dancing across his as you clawed at each other's bodies in order to get closer to one another. Hands palming the curve of your ass through the thin material of your flowy, floral dress, you let out a breathy yelp as his greedy hands suddenly grew impatient and scooped you up, drawing you that much closer to his warm body.
Your lips jolted away from his as your back swiftly bumped into something, his stumbling feet haven carried you into one of the stalls. Letting your head rest back against the thin wall, you glanced down at Frank with hooded eyes as he slowly lowered you back down to your feet, letting his touch linger as he did so, gliding his warm palms down your sides and with his eyes locked on yours, gently fiddled with the hem of your dress.
Goosebumps visible on your tingling skin, your own fingers dug into the fabric at your sides as you slowly hitched it up for him. Your knees nearly buckled as you then saw him sink down onto the cold tile, kneeling before you as he helped you expose yourself to him.
Keeping his eyes on yours, his scratchy chin tickle your thigh as he began to slowly pepper pecks along your tender flesh and your body fell back against the stall completely. Running his wide palm up along your other leg, soon coming into contact with your underwear, you sucked in a needy breath as his broad thumb skimmed over the wet spot adorning the cotton, pressing down even more fiercely as your hips bucked in search of more.
Hooking his finger in the fabric as his pillowy lips neared your centre, your pulse impossibly clear in your needy pearl, he tugged your soaked panties to the side and let a desperate groan rumbly deep within his throat as he took in the sight of your glistening folds.
You clasped your hand over your lips as you felt his tongue began to swipe through your folds, nuzzling closer and bumping the bridge of his nose insistently against your clit as he sloppily made out with your pussy.
Sinking into the long-yearned-for sensation, gazing down at him in awe, your eyes then grew wide as the sound of the lavatory door opening suddenly found your ears. Freezing up, your knee swiftly bumped his shoulder, pushing him off of you as you clutched your palm even harder against your lips, the summery dress flowing back down around your thighs.
Not giving the boisterous audience a second thought, Frank simply slammed the stall’s door shut, twisted the lock and rose to his feet. Lower half of his face glossy with your desperation, breathless, he slumped back against the opposite wall and stared at you electrically.
Your shoulders bounced in a giggle, accompanying the light shake your head offered as you listened to the drunks' conversation and reeled in the ridiculousness of this whole situation you had stumbled into. But when you looked back into Frank’s espresso eyes, it all melted away and you realised just how much you wanted this. You wanted him so much that you didn’t care where it was or who heard. You just wanted him.
Your hand finally dropped from your lips as your eyes too lowered, nearly letting out a whimper as you gazed at the palpable tent in his dark jeans. Absentmindedly, still on the other side of the stall, your deprived hand reached out and grabbed at the air between you.
Catching your hand in his, your eyes briefly flickered up towards his, catching his cocky smirk before you glanced down again to see his free fingers begin to work at his leather belt, unhurriedly undoing the buckle as he gave your hand a squeeze.
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
#3k celebration#lea’s writing#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader#frank castle imagine#marvel smut#frank castle x you#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#the punisher smut#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle fic#frank castle request#the punisher#the punisher fic#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle#the punisher x reader
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frank castle x reader with like a bakery au or where he always comes in just to see her
wordcount: 1004
i apologize for any editing errors, my brain is not working currently.
-----
“Black with room and a slice of toast?” You ask, cleaning out an espresso puck when you see Pete at the counter.
“You know it, sugar.”
“For here or to go?” You wipe your hands on your apron, punching in the items in the register.
“For here, favorite spot’s open.” He nods his head towards the small chair and table in the corner of the cafe, basked in golden morning sun.
“Alright, have a seat,” you smile at him, “I’ll bring it over.”
Readying his coffee and filling a cup with cream, you deliver everything to him. He looks up at you with wide soft eyes, muttering a “thanks, sugar.” before indulging himself.
It wasn’t a busy day, a Tuesday at 10am meant the morning rush had left and it was only retirees and people like Pete. You’d kept the counters clean and baked more treats, but there wasn’t much to do. You boxed a few to-go orders, only leaving the counter when someone wanted to have their coffee topped up.
Sooner or later, you find yourself and Pete alone in the cafe, life bustling outside the cafe doors. You hum along to the background music playing, and Pete scratches away at his journal. He stares out the window a few times, watching families with an almost heartbroken look in his eyes. You watch him for a while, and although he can feel your eyes on him, he lets you.
After he sits in the cafe for about two hours, he gets up with a sigh, wrapping up the leather-bound journal and tucking it into his pocket.
“I’ve gotta be on my way, sweetheart,” he calls out to you, “see you soon.”
“Wait!” You call out after him, “can you- can you take this? Just as a taste test, it’s a new recipe I’m working on and I need someone other than myself to tell me how it is.” He glances at you wearily but still takes the pastry bag. You watch him leave, sighing when he leaves. He was genuinely one of your favorite customers, he didn’t talk much but when he did, the two of you had amazing conversations about everything. You didn’t know much about him, only that he served as a marine and didn’t really have anyone else, other than a nice man named Curtis who came in maybe twice.
—--
A few days had passed before you saw him in the morning at opening time. He was the first customer, in fact, ordering his usual with the addition of the pastry you gave him the other day, “if you have it sweetheart.”
“I take it you enjoyed it?” He hums.
“Keep giving me treats like that and I'll be your taster forever.”
“Gotta come here every day then,” you tease, “constant feedback.”
He tenses at your words and you panic, thinking you overstepped or something, but he relaxes soon enough.
“I’ll see.” He says simply, and that was that. He takes a seat after paying and you deliver him his typical order, along with the pastry. He hums out a thanks and you leave him to himself.
The cycle continues, he sits quietly in his spot jotting in his journal while you tidy up the never ending mess. He takes his leave after a few hours, and you wave him off after giving him a new pastry to try, cleaning up his table when he leaves. You spot a napkin face-side-down on the table, sharpie ink bleeding through the thin sheet. You look around before flipping it over.
“So you don’t have to wait for my reviews.” It read, and under was his phone number scribbled into the napkin. You smiled, thinking you’ll wait until tonight to text him.
—--
“Hey Pete.” Frank’s phone dinged as he stitched himself up, glancing knife wound on his thigh. He cleaned himself up of blood and grime before responding to you.
“I was waiting for you to text me, sugar.” His teeth gritted almost immediately after sending the text, hoping he didn’t come off as too straightforward.
“Did you try the pastry I packed for you?” Your response read. He smiled.
“Eating it right now. It’s yummy.” He could hear your laugh, airy and full of light.
“Glad you like it, any criticism?” You ask.
“Yeah, you’ve gotta pack me more next time, sweetheart.”
“Will do.” The two of you ended up texting for hours about everything and anything and Frank realizes just how easy it is to talk to you. You two talk until Frank realizes the gaps between your texts are growing longer and longer, and Frank chuckles at you.
“Head to bed, sugar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Promise, Pete?” His heart aches just a little when he hears his fake name.
“Of course.”
—--
Sure enough? He’s there when you walk to the door, bouquet of flowers in hand.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” You joke, inserting your keys into the lock to open up the café.
“They’re uh- actually for you.” He hands the flowers to you.
“Oh! Thank you!” You take the flowers, grabbing a vase from behind the counter and placing the flowers in them, displaying them on the counter.
“Do you want to order anything?” You ask as he makes his way towards the counter.
“No.” He says simply, and he places his hands on your hips.
“This okay, sugar?” He asks, thumb rubbing light circles.
“Yeah.” He leans down, lips hovering right over yours, but he lets you make the final move to pull him in.
The kiss was short and sweet. His hands pulled your hips flush to his as your arms wound themselves around his neck.
“Pete…” your voice trails off.
“It’s Frank.”
“What?” You pull away.
“My name, it’s Frank. I don’t like people getting too close, but I’d break that rule for you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, you’re not as mysterious as my last boyfriend, he had a lot more secrets than that.”
“You’ve no idea, sugar.” He leans down to kiss you again.
#frank castle#frank castle fluff#frank castle drabble#frank castle fanfic#frank castle request#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle x male!reader#frank castle x male reader#frank castle x gn!reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle x female reader
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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
#frank castle x reader#frank castle#frank castle fluff#frank castle angst#frank castle imagine#frank castle x you#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher x reader#the punisher x you#the punisher angst#the punisher fluff#the punisher imagine#jon bernthal#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal x you#daredevil#nmcu#angst#drabble requests#amhrosina
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hi luv :), i have a frank castle and reader request. something like the reader is an introverted & quiet person and when being introduced to his small group of people at a small gathering like karen page, she feels inadequate & insecure and everyone’s attention is on karen. but he always notices every little thing about reader & knows she can be talkative, especially with just him, reassurance and maybe smut in the end, tysm :’) <3
hii lovie!! my thing for him has resurfaced lately so this is perfect, but no smut in this one, really sorry. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
—
NODS AND SMILES
frank castle x f!reader
word count. 652
warnings. none, just fluff. frank being so bf😔
You and Frank shared many similar characteristics - both quiet individuals, preferring the company of oneself over the hustle and bustle of others. But amongst the likeliness laid many juxtaposing traits. Frank had the charm and confidence to initiate a conversation with a stranger - to talk as if he'd known them a lifetime, whereas you were the polar opposite. You had trouble stirring up a discussion with someone you didn't know - to talk freely without fear of embarrassing yourself.
You're the kind of person who requires time to warm to someone - who needs a blanket of security to feel comfortable enough to open up. There were very few that have made you feel that way, the main being your boyfriend, Frank.
Through Frank's unquestioning love and reassurance, you've learnt he is a pillar you can rely on to feel comfortable - someone that can make you feel safe in unfamiliar settings. He's the kind of person you use for a sense of comfort.
So when you find yourself a shy, queasy mess surrounded by Frank's friends, you know you can count on your boyfriend to coax you out of hiding if needed. You wanted to mingle, to join in on the conversation -with the help of liquid courage- but you couldn't form any words for the life of you.
There wasn't much you could do other than nod and smile as Karen shared stories about her work. You wanted to ask her questions - get to know her, to get to know more about the woman who's helped keep your boyfriend alive, but as others chimed in, steering the conversation, you decided to stay quiet, nervously biting your straw as you tapped your foot to the bar music.
Frank sat beside you, cornering you in the booth, a protective hand on your knee as he sipped on a beer and caught up with his friends.
You wanted to speak up - ask questions about them, talk about something that interested you, but as you finally buckled up enough courage, the conversation drew to a close, and the others went to the bar to refresh their drinks.
The second the table empties, Frank turns to you, his face full of concern. He wanted to ask what had happened - why you cocooned yourself after promising to try. He wanted to ask what had you all turned around, why you hadn't said more than five words, but as he noticed your subtle frown, he knew now wasn't the time.
"Wanna go home, mama?" Frank quietly asked, slipping his hand into yours, his thumb brushing comforting strokes over the back of it.
"No, no. I'm good," you lie, flashing a faux smile.
Frank could see right through you - he always could. He knew you were lying to spare his feelings, pretending you were enjoying bar night for the sake of him. He found it admirable for you to put yourself in the depths of discomfort so that he could catch up with old pals.
And as the others rejoined around the table, Frank began to gather your things, whipping up an elaborate lie to avoid putting you in the spotlight - saying how it was getting late and he hadn't eaten yet.
You said your goodbyes with genuine smiles, hugging his friends before leaving the bar.
Your arm wrapped around Frank's as you quietly walked down the late-night street, following after his lead. He knew you felt worn down and tired from your evening out, drained and wanting nothing more than to be in the comfort of home, so he suggested grabbing take-out to enjoy on the couch.
You stopped past one of your locals, ordering all your favourite dishes to reward you for your efforts tonight. And after eating your body weight in take-out food, you spent the rest of the night snuggled on the sofa watching shitty tv, recuperating.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
#request#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x you#frank castle fluff#frank castle imagine#frank x reader
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whatta man for @souliebird
#jon bernthal#the punisher#those who wish me dead#american gigolo#frank castle#ethan sawyer#julian kaye#video edit#darlingedits#requests
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Guys please give me request on oneshots
Masterlist ig
Steven Grant / all the moon boys
Aaron hotchner
Spencer reid
Miguel o’hara
Peter Parker (Andrew)
Hobie brown
Joe Goldberg
Ghost/ König
Frank castle
Please send me request for them.
#steven grant#steven grant x reader#miguel x you#moon knight fanfic#frank castle x f!reader#joe goldberg#jake lockely#tasm peter x reader#ghost cod#joe goldberg smut#dr spencer reid#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner#hobie x you#hobie brown#hobie x y/n#joe goldberg x reader#joe goldberg x you#request#masterlist#steven grant smut#astv miguel#frank castle x reader#frank castle fanfiction#joe goldberg fanfiction#ghost smut#simon ghost riley x reader#könig modern warfare#könig fanfiction#könig x you
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Ok so it literally took me less than 1 full episode of The Punisher in order to understand Frank's appeal, so I'll be needing fic recs! What y'all got for me, Frankophiles?
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Helloooo, 💕💕💕💕
I had an idea for a fratt and reader fluff piece. They are stuck in the car on a road trip, Frank is driving (because is his truck), Matt is in the copilot seat and Reader is in the middle seat in the back.
She falls asleep and Matt asks Frank to stop the car. Frank asks him "Why?" and Matt says "Because I want to cuddle with her".
When Matt is in the back, Frank asks him "Ever wonder why she always falls asleep in the car?"
That's it, I leave the rest up to you 😘😘😘
Also I wanted to thank you again for doing my request about the teddy bear, it was the cutest like these two gentlemen 😍😍😍😍
I am so sorry for the wait, darling! I had a lot going on. I've honestly never written for Fratt or Frank before in my life, so this is my first. I tried my best, and I hope I did your request justice <3 I’m so happy the teddy bear request was to your liking, so I hope that it’s the same with this one. Sending you all the hugs and kisses, especially for these gifs!!
Ours | Matt Murdock x Frank Castle x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You fall asleep in the car and the boys wonder why that always happens.
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff
Word Count: 2.6k
A/n: I have no idea if this is good enough or not, but...I tried? Let me know if you liked it and maybe I'll write more for Frank in the future. I don't know. Also, I have decided not to tag for this because I'm not sure how everyone on my tag list stands with Frank. Since this is a poly ship and not everyone is into that :) Just so you know that I didn’t forget you, I just know not everyone ships Fratt. This is the first fic in that direction I’ve ever written, and I’m a bit shy, but oh well…
The purr of the engine resonates through the cab of Frank's weathered truck as it speeds down the open highway, the asphalt stretching out before them like an endless ribbon. The moon stands high in the sky, the clock showing an even number of 4:00 am. The car is dark except for the light of the controls and the headlights reflecting off the puddles in the road.
At first, the radio had been playing a random 80s rock tune, but as soon as Matt slipped into the driver’s seat, he sneered at Frank, “Turn that off.”
In response, Frank turned up the volume even more. You told him before that it’s your favorite song, and you wanted to hear it.
“Fuck that!” he’d said. “Our girl wants to hear this. You wanna say no to our girl, Red?”
You smiled so innocently from the backseat, Matt could only sigh and cup his ears to try and keep the volume out. With his heightened senses, something as easy as that won’t even remotely work, but he tried.
Frank laughed out loud. “Told ya!” And then he sang along with you to whatever song came after that one, and Matt had to suffer through it.
The first ten minutes of this drive were torture, to say the least.
Matt accepted it for a while, but eventually decided he had enough and turned the radio off entirely, leaving the car in an eerie silence.
Now, you’re driving without music.
The gentle hum of the tires beneath you eventually lulls you into a peaceful daze. One second, you are lecturing Frank on why opening the car door and throwing Matt out of it while he was driving eighty miles per hour wasn’t such a good idea, the next you slowly start dozing off.
It doesn’t take long before the rhythmic vibrations of the car have you drifting off into a quiet slumber. The soft sounds of Matt and Frank's conversation turn into a distant murmur as your head nestles against the backrest. The gentle sway of the vehicle matches the cadence of your breaths, and soon you are lost in dreams.
Frank lifts his eyes off the road for a moment, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You don’t talk much, but every time the three of you come from a mission, the adrenaline runs high in your bloodstream and you become chatty. Ever since you went quiet, Frank has wondered whether or not you’ve fallen asleep, and he gets his proof when he looks at your sleeping form in the back.
Matt notices him shifting and he tilts his head slightly in your direction. The gentle rhythm of your heartbeat resonates in his ear, your breathing even, and your shirt brushes against your chest ever so slightly whenever it lifts to let some more oxygen into your lungs.
“She’s asleep,” he states.
“Yeah,” says Frank. He reaches back and cups your knee. You don’t move. “Dead fucking asleep, I’d say.”
Matt only shoots him a glare, his unfocused eyes landing on the point closest to where his voice is coming from. “Would you mind keeping both your hands on the steering wheel?”
Rolling his eyes, Frank straightens up. He wants to say something smart, but Matt has said more annoying things in the past. And when he looks at him, he can’t be mad because he looks so soft in the moonlight. It hits his dark curls just right, meeting the brown of his eyes and turning them slightly green, maybe even a little golden.
Matt Murdock is golden, Frank does not doubt that. More golden than you? No, but he is golden nonetheless. A golden retriever, you once called him, and you were onto something then.
Frank doesn’t like a lot of people, and while Matt can annoy the shit out of him, there’s something too good about him that makes it impossible for him to hate the man that’s sitting next to him, his red suit hugging his curves just right, the gloves that usually hug his thick fingers placed in his lap as he fidgets.
He’s aware that the relationship between you three is unconventional, but he couldn’t care less.
Matt frowns. “What?” he asks him.
Frank blinks. “Nothing.”
“Do I have something on my face?”
“Not yet,” he retorts.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I fucking said, Red. Exactly that.”
Once again, Matt only rolls his eyes. He leans back in his seat, head tilting even further to listen to you sleep. You sound so peaceful, your body slack with relaxation. You always sit in the middle so you can talk better to them, or hold his hand in the passenger seat. Whenever you’re alone with Frank, you are the passenger princess, but that changes as soon as Matt is involved. They sit in the front to protect you, that much is true, but Matt also gets sick easily in the back, so he always sits in the front. That doesn’t mean you don’t want to hold his hand every once in a while, so you recline in the backseat, always.
Matt reaches behind himself to cup your other thigh. You shift slightly, bucking into his touch as if seeking his comfort. Your heart skips a beat. With the moonlight hitting your face the same way it does him, Matt is sure you must look ethereal.
“She does,” Frank murmurs beside him.
He shoots him a confused glance, but Frank chuckles and adds, “You tend to think out loud when you’re turning into a needy mess. Ain’t my fault.”
A blush forms on Matt’s cheeks, and he instantly turns his head away. He forgets that Frank sees him better than anyone, probably. Not just in the literal sense but in a very deep, emotional way as well. They are so alike yet so different, and you only seem to tighten the bond they already shared from the beginning. With you, life is easier.
Matt slips his hand from your thigh back into his lap, and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. He leans over to Frank, his voice a low murmur. "Hey, could you do me a favor and pull over?" he asks, his hand already fidgeting with the seatbelt.
Frank's brows come together in confusion, so close they almost touch, and the slightest hint of frustration flickers in his eyes. "Why?" he asks back, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
Matt's smile remains. "Because I want to cuddle with her," he confesses.
Frank's lips twitch into a half-smile as he glances at Matt. “You're such a fucking softie, you know that? It’s disgusting.”
Matt shrugs. "Well, she's asleep, and I don't want her to wake up all stiff and uncomfortable."
With a huff, Frank slows down and finds a spot on the side of the road where he can pull over. “You’re lucky your tits make great pillows,” he says as he pulls into the small lot.
He opens his mouth to protest, but one look at his armor makes him shut up. Frank isn’t entirely wrong.
The truck rumbles to a stop on the shoulder of the road, and Matt swiftly unfastens his seatbelt and moves to the backseat. He methodically makes his way forward by using his bare hands to find the door handle and then climbs back into the familiar interior.
Frank watches him through the rearview mirror, admiring how gracefully he moves, all just so he won’t disturb you. “You good back there?” he asks.
Matt nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. You can drive.”
Carefully, he slides in next to you, grabbing the blanket from the seat next to you. You must have been so tired, you forgot to make yourself comfortable. He wraps it around your form, tucking you in. The truck starts moving again, but he won’t let Frank’s driving distract him from taking care of what’s his.
Matt wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side, and you snuggle against his chest. The steady beat of his heart creates a soothing melody that harmonizes with the gentle hum of the car's engine.
As Frank resumes driving, his eyes occasionally flickering to the rearview mirror, he can’t help but smile at the sight. He had seen many things in his life, but the simple tenderness of this moment was a reminder of the unexpected bond you have formed over the past few months, and it continues to fasten every single day. Whether it’s sharing a bed, sharing dinner, or taking down a bunch of gang members in an abandoned warehouse far away from your familiar Hell’s Kitchen, you always find a way to come out better together.
After a while, as the sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the road, Frank's curiosity gets the better of him. He glances over at Matt, who is running his fingers through the messy strands of your hair, and his voice is gruff but tinged with intrigue when he speaks. “Hey, Red,” Frank says, catching his attention. “Ever wonder why she always falls asleep in the car?”
Matt pouts. "I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Maybe it's the steady rhythm, the feeling of movement. Makes her feel safe like she's being taken care of."
Frank nods thoughtfully, his grip firm on the steering wheel. "Yeah, maybe."
“Or maybe it’s us. She has this thing…” Matt shifts you slightly, and you curl even closer to him in your sleep. He chuckles. “She has this thing where her heartbeat skips whenever one of us is near, and then it slows when one of us touches her.”
“Slow down?” Frank cuts him off, a smirk on his lips. “Man, you sure about that?”
Matt kicks him. “Oh, shut up, Frank!” he says. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”
“C’mon, you can’t blame me. I may not have your super senses, but I know her body inside-out. I know that her heartbeat doesn’t slow down when we touch her.”
“You don’t really know her heartbeat then,” his voice is barely above a whisper. He lowers his lips to your forehead. Your heart jumps again as if you know what he’s doing. “Whenever we’re being affectionate with her–not in a sexual way, mind you–she calms down. She’s always so on edge, but when we’re together like this, when we’re talking and driving and everything is a little less heavy, that’s when she sleeps best. I can’t describe it, but it’s…it shows me that she feels safe with us. With you.”
In an instant, Frank shuts his mouth. Matt’s words make sense, but they still hit him hard. He has a hard time believing that anyone would feel safe in his presence, that anyone would love him, but whenever he looks at you, he knows he’s often just overthinking because you do.
You love him, you love Matt, and you love what the three of you have. You feel safe. You come to him when you’re sad, and he can come to you when he feels the same. You open up to him and Matt, no one else. You let your guard down for him. He never thought he would feel this way again, and it’s often overwhelming to even exist with all the pain he’s carrying, but he’s not alone anymore.
“Can’t say I blame her,” Matt adds.
Damn him, Frank thinks. He doesn’t even have to say what he’s thinking; Matt always knows. He hears his heartbeat, he hears his breathing change, and he feels something switch in the atmosphere, and he instantly knows something isn’t right. Frank thinks too much, even though it doesn’t seem that way, and Matt is very susceptible to people thinking too much. And he’s attentive.
Frank huffs, his fists clenching around the steering wheel. “Fifteen minutes, Red,” he says. “I’ll drop you off at your place. Both of you. I think she’ll be more than happy to stay with your annoying ass tonight.”
“We’re all staying at my place,” he sounds so calm back there.
“Can’t. I’m busy.”
“Yes, you can, and no, you’re not. You don’t have a life outside of me and her, and your guns. We both know that.”
Yes, he can. And no, he’s not busy.
Frank shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything else. Matt continues to stroke your hair, his attention both on you and the man in the driver’s seat. A small smile plays on his lips. He’s home right here. With you, with Frank, even if it’s an open road–He’s home wherever you are because that’s where his heart is.
The journey continues through the night, the road unwinding beneath the truck's wheels. The moon remains their silent companion.
Even in your sleep, you seem to sense the harmony of the moment, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you nuzzle closer into Matt's chest.
Frank's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror once more, catching sight of your peaceful face. He can't deny that there is a certain comfort in seeing you this way, your guard down and your worries temporarily silenced by tranquility. It's a rare sight, one that fills him with a sense of contentment he didn't anticipate.
Matt's focus remains on you, his fingers lightly brushing against your hair. He marvels at the vulnerability you exhibit in your sleep.
He tilts his head slightly. "Does she look as peaceful as she sounds?" he asks softly.
Frank grunts in agreement. "Yeah, she does," he says.
Matt smiles. "Good." The miles slip away. The open road ahead holds a unique kind of therapy, and the world outside seems to fade into insignificance, leaving only the here and now.
Matt's fingers trace patterns on your arm as he speaks again, his voice low and steady. "You know, I think that when we're in the car, it's like a sanctuary for her," he says, adding to his previous answer. "The movement, the sounds, they offer a sense of security she rarely finds anywhere else. She said her life wasn't pretty before we came along, and we can argue that it still is far from pretty all we want, but she loves us. That counts for something, Frank."
Frank contemplates, his lips pursing. "Security?" he questions. Of course, he would pick the part he didn’t emphasize.
“Yeah.” Matt sighs, then he nods. “She feels safe with us. It's more than just the physical presence—it's the emotional support we provide. We're her safe haven,” he says.
Frank's eyes flicker to Matt's profile, his lips twitching into a shit-eating grin. “You've thought this through, huh?” He chuckles. “That’s a new one.”
Gone is the doubtful Frank, leaving behind the teasing asshole he likes to be. And Matt eats it up every single time.
He rolls his eyes, something he should get paid for at this point, but the hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips. "I've had a lot of time to think," says Matt. "I always think, especially about her. And you."
A small chuckle escapes Frank's throat, the sound almost incredulous. He's trying to play off the blush that is threatening to break out. Whenever Matt is being sweet, he does it with such precision, Frank wants to break out into hives. But in a good way.
“I'll be damned, Red,” he says, his voice edging on a mock. “Who knew you could be such a fucking philosopher and shit-eating romantic at the same time?”
Matt's lips turn into a full-fledged grin. "Well, we all have our talents," he says.
"Yeah, I guess we do," Frank agrees, his voice softer than usual, even bordering on a whisper.
As the road stretches ahead, the miles disappearing beneath the truck's wheels, Matt's fingers continue their gentle dance along your skin. His touch is a silent promise that he's always going to be there for you, no matter what, and the sense of safety makes you melt. His touch holds a magic power, and you're too weak to fight it.
Frank's eyes flicker to the road again. He's not one to openly express emotions, but he knows that this connection—the one forged between you, Matt, and himself—is something he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He finally has a reason to live again, and he'd be damned to let it go. To let you go.
"You think she knows?" His question hangs in the air. He doesn't even have to say what he means for Matt to understand.
Matt's expression softens as he takes in the sight of your peaceful form. "I think she feels it," he answers. "She knows she's cared for. She’s knows we’re here for her. That we love her. Both of us."
It's a simple truth that Frank has come to realize over time—that you've found a home within their unconventional dynamic, and that the sanctuary of the car is just one representation of the security they offer you. You spend most of your time there, anyway.
And so, the miles roll on. With the open road stretching before you, and the soft embrace of sleep enveloping you, you continue your trek, each moment etching your story deeper into the tapestry of your lives.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#daredevil#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock angst#frank castle#frank castle x reader#the punisher#matt murdock x frank castle#matt murdock x frank castle x you#fratt#lizzi writes#requests are closed
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what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍
oh my darling sweet nonnie
I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it
being married to frank castle
i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind
he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted
you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint
your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another
you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*
frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky
I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in
he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax
he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day
anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart
he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can
he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home
he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort
frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart
he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch
he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face
to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you
bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes
#frank castle#frank castle request#frank castle headcanon#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader#the punisher#the punisher x you#the punisher x reader#the punisher request#the punisher headcannon
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life or death. right or wrong.
#comicedit#marveledit#marvel#punisher#frank castle#userbrieuc#tusergaya#im so eepy i hope u like the edit :')#im very much still in deep creative block so this looks to me as it feels. an attempt to push through that...#request
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And if eating cake is wrong, I don’t want to be right - hi first, congrats, sending love!!! second, i have a prompt idea, going off list so sorry if it's awful! reader covering frank with a blanket and him bring so big it won't fully cover him so reader trying again and again to make it cover him adequately so he won't get cold and he's lay there half asleep and suddenly has the realisation of 'fuck i love this woman'
feel free to ignore!!
A/N: omg this is so cute ♡
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | join my 3.5k celebration!
Like ocean waves, the soft knit blanket rippled over Frank each time you tried to throw it over his resting form, and each time it landing in a different way on him and never quite to your satisfaction as it never succeeded in encumbering his entirety.
“Mhm…” he suddenly stirred, his eyes slowly peaking up at you.
“Sorry,” you whispered, still trying your best to cover his body sufficiently, “go back to sleep!”
Breathing out a soft chuckle at your overly hushed tone, he asked, “what are you doing?”
Giving up with a small sigh, you then clumsily crawled over the carpet to the basket at the end of the couch and fished out another woollen blanket, “trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death,” you unfurled them both one after another upon him, “now please go back to sleep,” your fingers tugged in the ends around him, making sure the gap between the two was nowhere to be found, “you barely got any last night.” Finishing up your fussing, you looked to Frank’s face, hoping for him to already be asleep again, though all you saw was a dreamy smile as he gazed at you in adoration. “What?” you asked, your palms lingering on his warm, covered thigh a moment longer.
“Oh, nothing,” he breathed, one of his arms folding up to rest between his head and the embroidered pillow below it, “nothing at all…”
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
#3.5k celebration#lea’s writing#frank castle x you#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle fic#frank castle request#the punisher fic#frank castle imagine#frank castle fluff#frank castle fanfiction
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Idk if u write for this sort of thing but if you do, can I request frank castle in subspace x male reader who takes care of him?- just some fluff with frank being cuddled and spoiled 👉🏻👈🏻
mdni for slight sexual content
okay i feel like he'd have to really trust the person he was with in order to let himself even think about going "brain numb" but...
it'd be after a long, arduous mission. something that really took a toll on him and made him just... need you. usually he comes home and grumbles about, taking a shower and then cracking a beer and slumping on the couch, but this time he seeks you out, and that's how you know it's different. he's softer, slower, shoulders sunken versus sitting at military attention. i feel like he'd be an entirely different beast, and he'd be physical about it, draping his body weight over yours while you're doing whatever. he's quiet, even when he's needy he never expresses what it is he craves.
anyways, i feel like afterwards, when you two are laying there, skin glowing with sweat in the aftermath.
"need anything? some water, a snack?" he blinks up at you, eyes glassy.
"huh?"
"can i get something for you? or can i do something for you?"
"i- water would be nice."
i genuinely he'd be like a little shocked, a little frozen because 99% of the time he's the caregiver in the relationship and now he's thinking why is the person i have a need to take care of taking care of me?
and you'd just quietly bring him water and slide back into bed, holding him against you as he drinks the water, praising him as he drink the whole thing and now he's actually so confused. he's getting into his head about it and you're so quick to snap him out of it that he doesn't even realize it until he's a melted puddle against your chest cause you're scratching his scalp. but the fact that he knows, even subconsciously, that he trusts you means that he's not even mentally there anymore. he's just floating away on some lazy river.
he can vaguely feel a towel of some sorts, a warmth flowing through him as he realizes you're just cleaning him off because there's no physical way you're dragging him to the shower. he feels pressure on his forehead, a gentle kiss, he thinks.
"frank?"
"mm?"
"feelin' okay?"
"high as a kite." you laugh at his words.
"that's nice."
"tha' fuck did'ya do t'me?" you laugh again.
"i'm magic."
"fuck outta here."
#dev writes#frank castle request#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle x male! reader#frank castle x male reader#frank castle fluff
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could I maybe ask for a Cg!Frank Castle and Cg!Matt Murdock with little reader? I love them both so much and my poly heart thinks they would be such great cgs- and little me does too lol. If thats okay?
Bedtime!
CG!Frank Castle x CG!Matt Murdock x GNLittle!reader
Rating: Gen
Summary: It's bedtime for little reader so Dada Matt Murdock and Papa Frank Castle help them get ready for bed.
Word Count: 409
Warnings: confirmed romantic relationship, bottles, non-sexual un/redressing, baby/toddler reader headspace, kissing, non-sexual tickling
A/N: Sorry such a short story took so long! I watched some of the show but not the whole thing so it may not be perfect. Thank you for the request anon! This was fun to write. :D
Support me on AO3!
You laid on your tummy on the floor while Matt sat next to you. “Dada! Dis’ one! Do dis one, kay?” you asked, handing him a star shaped block.
He ran his hands over it. “It’s not a circle… Is it a square?” he joked.
“No!” you giggled.
“Not a hexagon…”
“No,” you hinted again.
“Oh! Okay, I know, now. It’s a triangle, right?!”
You erupted with laughter. “Es a star dada!” you told him.
He smiled and put the star in the right hole of the box as your papa, Frank, stepped into the room.
“Hey kiddo, it’s bedtime,” he said in his quiet, low voice, leaning over the couch. He then came over to help dada Matt up, offering his hand to him, before picking you up, too.
“Bed-time,” you repeated.
“Yeah. We gotta brush your teeth, put on your pajamas,” he listed in a calming voice, hugging you to him, making you feel all warm.
Dada usually helped you brush your teeth when you were this little, but tonight papa did, keeping you in his arms he handed you the toothbrush and timed you before giving you a stiff pat on the back to spit and rinse.
Then, he set you down on the big bed, right in dada’s lap! “I’m gonna go make sweetpea a bottle. You’re on pajama duty,” he said to dada, before kissing him on the cheek.
“Ew!” you squealed in mock disgust.
“Is kissing so gross?” Matt asked with a grin.
“Yeah!” you replied.
He rolled up your shirt to plant kisses on your tummy, which quickly devolved into tickling you as he got your day clothes off and put your cozy, footie pajamas on.
Then, he suddenly stopped.
Opening your eyes, you realized he had crawled up onto his side of the bed and was about to pick you up to be put in his lap. “It sounds like Frank’s all done with your bottle,” he whispered.
Sure enough, he was right and papa returned, shaking the bottle up as he handed it over to his husband to give you and selected a story out of your bookshelf.
Many of them were in braille, but there were a couple that had been printed as well. He took down a simple one and started to read, petting your legs that spread across his lap.
You were half asleep so quickly. All you felt after shutting your eyes was the replacement of your bottle with your pacifier and your caregivers shifting closer to one another.
#agere fic inspo#fandom agere#marvel agere#x reader#x gender neutral reader#cg!Frank Castle#cg!Matt Murdock#cg!punisher#cg!daredevil#little!reader#matt murdock x frank castle#agere fanfiction#agere fanfic#anon asks#requests#🎠chatter
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Frank With An Inexperienced Reader
a/n: the request was for frank AND matt, but i haven't written matt's headcanons yet, so here's frankie-poo's for now
warnings: virgin!reader becoming notvirgin!reader lmfao, age gap, smut obviously, frank talks you through it, oral (fem receiving), fingering, the usual smut stuff, etc.
Frank would be hesitant at first when you ask him to take your virginity. You’ve done other stuff with him, but you’ve never gone all the way, and he’s nervous about taking that away from you.
Like you’re so much younger than him, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you, but holy shit you’re so pretty and he can’t deny you anything so he just takes it really slow instead and gives you the power to choose when/where it happens.
You’re just as nervous as he is about it but for different reasons obviously. He’s so experienced and you’re the exact opposite and you spend at least a week freaking out about it before finally giving in and showing up at his apartment to be properly fucked.
When I say he takes it slow, I mean he takes it S L O W.
You’re trying to unbuckle his belt but you’re so nervous that you’re visibly shaking, so he gently takes your hands in his and kisses your fingertips and tells you to slow down for a second.
“Let me do this for you, okay? I’ll take good care of you.”
You tell him that you’re nervous because you want it to be good for him but you don’t know how to make it good for him.
He smirks and shakes his head. “You don’t gotta worry about me, sweets. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You’ll be perfect.”
He begins pressing unhurried kisses to your lips and jaw, gingerly making his way to your neck. You’re already so turned on that you can feel the slickness of your arousal between your legs.
He moves at an achingly slow pace, pulling your clothing off piece by piece, leaving kisses in the wake of his removal, until you’re standing in front of him in your underwear.
He presses sultry kisses to your nipples, softly flicking the nubs with his tongue because he knows you love it when he does that.
“Can I pull these off?” His fingers are resting on your hip bones underneath the fabric of your underwear. You nod your head eagerly because it’s Frank and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being this gentle with you.
When he lays you on the bed, spread bare for him, you’re still a little nervous. (He’s so big and you can see why people are afraid of him when he’s in Punisher mode but also like, he’s so dreamy).
Also if we’re basing Frank’s length off of the rumors about Bernthal’s, ummmm let’s just say the man’s very well endowed. This makes you even more nervous because WOW.
“We can stop at any time, okay? Just say the word and I’ll stop. I won’t get mad. I promise.”
You try not to groan at how incredibly sexy he looks reassuring you.
Frank knows it’s going to hurt, but he still wants to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for you, so he does everything in his power to make sure you’re nice and ready for him.
“Can I taste you, baby?”
When he buries his tongue in your folds, you quite literally can’t hold yourself together. You fall apart on his tongue not once, but twice before he finally relents and begins pumping a finger in and out of you.
You’re so wet that it easily slides in and out, and when he adds another digit, and another, you’re coming apart around him again.
When it’s finally time for him to push into you, you’re so blissed out in pleasure that your nervousness has subsided, but he’s still gentle and cautious.
You tense up almost immediately because it hurts, and he almost pulls out because he never wants to see that look on your face again (especially not because of him!)
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Just breathe, okay? It’ll feel good soon.”
Frank refuses to move until you give him a slight nod, hovering over you and kissing the tension out of your clenched features.
When the pain finally subsides and you ask him to move, he’s really really gentle with his thrusts even though he’s dying to pound into you.
He praises you the entire time.
“You’re so wet, baby.” “You look so good like this.” “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” “Fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”
He’s always been an observant man, but watching you moan, writh, and arch into him is something he’d like to observe for the rest of his life (if you’ll let him)
When you come apart around him, you unintentionally clench around him and it takes everything in him to hold himself together.
When you ask him to fill you up, his thrusts stutter out of pure shock.
“Naughty girl. Who taught you that?”
You’re grinning up at him, blinking your perfect doe eyes, and he can’t tell if it's the hormones or the fact that he’s buried deep inside you, but he thinks he might have just fallen deeper in love with you.
You hold him close to you as he fills you up, and when he collapses next to you, you’re both blissed out and sweaty and in love and you feel warm and fuzzy about it all.
“Are you okay?” He’s concerned that he may have hurt you.
“Let’s do that again!” You’re not hurt in the slightest (lol).
Cue both of you giggling like teenagers.
Obviously Frank is an aftercare king so after he cleans you up, he runs his fingers over your skin in a soothing pattern.
When you ask if it was good for him, he’s quick to reassure you.
“It was perfect, baby. You’re perfect.”
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