#frank castle x reader smut
Text
sweet like wine
Summary: You realize how much you like it when Frank is vocal during sex.
Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n);
Words: 2.1k (18+ shameless smut, aural kink, fluff, intimacy, explicit consent, mutual masturbation, sexy voicemails, dirty talk, established relationship)
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The first time took you completely by surprise.
You weren't expecting a man of few words like Frank, quiet and brooding as he was, to become the picture of an enthusiastic lover once the lights went out and you found yourselves taking the next step in your relationship. That's not to say you didn't expect a certain… level of intensity. Frank was not a bland man — simple and direct, maybe, but he brought a particular devotion to everything he did. He didn't mince actions, or words for that matter. But he also didn't use too many of them regardless of the circumstances, so you didn't expect reality to be any different when it came to intimacy with him. You imagined him to be passionate, and you were not wrong. However, in all your fantasies (and there were plenty), he was always quietly focused. Encouraging, but not with words. Filthy, but never this articulate.
You take me so fuckin' well, baby.
That's it, soak my fingers, let me feel it.
Gonna come, sweetheart? Make a mess all over my cock?
It was nice to be wrong. So nice, in fact, that you almost came untouched just from listening to him tell you what he wanted to do to you the first time you made love. The noises that escaped his lips as he barely pressed his hips into yours drove you insane. He wouldn't let you have it until you asked, slowly and languidly grinding himself against you through the satin of your panties, enough to ruin them and fry your brain, but not enough to give you that rush of pleasure you were dying to get from him. He took his time with no issue, like the clock stopped moving the second he molded his lips to yours.
"That feel good?" he mumbled against your neck, biting down in response when you didn't answer right away, too lost in the warmth of his skin and the pretty noises he was making.
"Uh-huh," you moaned, shivering as he licked a path to your collarbones and his beard left a pleasant burn in its wake.
"You want more?" he taunted, placing a kiss to the swell of your breast.
"Yes, Frank." Then, thinking it not enough, you quietly added a 'please' on the end of a breathy whine as his lips wrapped around your nipple.
You came to learn you didn't have to beg with him, unless he wanted you to — because if you thought you liked it when Frank talked during sex, he was singularly focused on making you utter words that would make a fiend blush. You were resistant at first, partly because the more you'd talk, the less he would, and you couldn't have that. Yet pretty soon you realized that hearing you speak the filth you did to him garnered an interesting and previously unheard noise from your lover.
Frank's only response as you rode his cock and told him how well he filled you was to whine.
In retrospect, you couldn't have known that would be the thing to unlock a noise you didn't think possible, but you certaintly didn't complain when his hand grasped your jaw and his lips mashed to yours, trying desperately to stifle the alluring sound by pressing it into your mouth and making you dizzy with want. That sound worked to push you over the edge just as well as his skilled fingers on your clit. It got you so worked up that sometimes just the memory of it hitting you in the middle of the day was enough to heat up your skin and make you wish you had a recording of it. Which was how the real trouble started, when Frank left on a longer assigment from his contact at the CIA.
Now, you would be fine without him for a couple of weeks. You'd done it before, and you understood the nature of his work and how it'd be woven into your relationship. You knew that when he'd leave, it wouldn't be the same as going on a business trip. There was a strict no-contact rule he enforced, both because he often simply didn't have the means to get in touch and because it was the safest thing to do. He wouldn't put you in any jeopardy because he missed you, and you'd long ago accepted that as fact and respected his decision.
And that was the reason why a voicemail from Frank arriving dead in the middle of those fourteen days away almost provoked a heart attack— twice. First, because you thought something horrible had gone wrong. He was hurt. He was in trouble. Maybe this was all he could do to say goodbye. Your blood pressure couldn't have been any higher as your thumb inched towards the play button on the message, and you thought you could drop to your knees when the first thing to come out of the speakers was a long, drawn-out groan.
This was it. You were going to lose him. He was dying somewhere, alone, and you were never going to see him again.
"God, babygirl…"
You waited with bated breath, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and then the second uptick in your pulse occurred.
"Fuckin' miss you so much. Need to feel that tight pussy squeezin' my cock."
It wasn't hard, given how wound up you already were, for your body to make the switch from horrible adrenaline to an absolutely euphoric rush of pleasure. It happened so quickly that whiplash wasn't far behind, and you gripped the arm of the sofa as you slid down to the floor, unable to stand any longer. Heart beating wildly in your ears, you forced yourself to calm so as not to miss his next words.
"Wish you could see how you got me right now… fuckin' my own hand like a goddamn teenager," he groaned.
You couldn't have helped your reaction if you'd tried. Switching the phone to your other hand with a tell-tale tremor, your dominant one slipped down the front of your leggings and straight into your dampening underwear, fingers moving in tandem with the background noise your ears were hypnotized by. You could hear the motions of Frank's fist going up and down his cock, could make out just how easily his hand moved over himself and feel the phantom taste of him in your mouth. Your own fingers picked up the pace on your pulsating clit, mind trying to remember the sensation of his rougher digits caressing you.
"Gonna come, baby?"
Startled, your tightly closed eyes were pried open to glance at the screen, wondering if you hadn't somehow called him in your frenzy. But no. The voice note kept playing, and the pretty groans kept coming.
"You're so fucking close. I know it. You're thinkin' about me touching you. Can't stand that I'm not there to do it."
High-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips, feeling so empty and wishing he could fill you at this exact moment. You were soaked through your panties, heat turned up inside yourself so much that sweat began to build at your temples. You were a mess in less than two minutes, and all it took was a goddamn recording of his voice.
"Frank…"
Moaning his name into the empty room made you feel dirty and horribly desperate, fingers slicked up to the point you had trouble getting a consistent motion. Your chest was tight with shallow breaths, spine tingling and legs cramping from how wound up your muscles were.
"C'mon sweet girl, let go. Soak that pussy f'me," he demanded in that gruff tone he always used when he brought you right to the cliff's edge.
"Frankie, please…"
You'd lost your mind, begging him for something he could neither hear nor grant you. But he knew. He always knew. Between the sounds of his own slick motions and heady groans, a noise you loved more than anything broke through just when you thought you couldn't take any more.
He whined your name on the end of a heart-stopping moan and just like that, you were gone, vision going white as you threw your head back hard against the armrest you forgot was there. You panted wildly as your hand kept moving, not stopping until you heard that beautiful shudder fall from his lips, signaling his own release. Every inch of you was electrified, sitting there as you breathed together, hours apart but still in sync.
You didn't tell him about that moment, because there was no need. When he made it home at the end of those two weeks, he neither greeted you nor removed his shoes, simply picking you up and planting you onto the counter before burying his face into the crook of your neck.
"Want you to show me," he asked, warm breath hitting the outer shell of your ear. Disoriented, all you could do was make an inquisitive noise. You'd barely had time to take him in before he was on you.
"Huh?"
"I wanna see how you did it. Want to know how you touched yourself f'me last week."
Your heart picked up in double time, knowing he was dead serious and that you'd do anything he asked. This was uncharted territory for both of you, and you were a little shy to try something like this out of nowhere. What would you even do? You weren't even that used to touching yourself anymore, last week having been a rare exception. It was nice and definitely an intense experience, but it still paled in comparison to the average night with him. Or, as it were, the average day— because he apparently expected you to do this right here, right now. On an early Sunday afternoon where you hadn't even bothered changing out of your slip dress.
Sensing your hesitation, he pulled back to look into your eyes as his hands found your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the thin fabric covering them.
"Don't you worry, baby. I'm gonna guide you through it. Watch my pretty girl touch herself like I tell her to. Whaddaya say, sweetheart? You want that?"
Like I tell her to.
Fuck, yes. You wanted that. You wanted it so badly apparently that Frank saw it in your expression, because he smirked as soon as you looked at him all wide-eyed.
"I…"
"Yeah? What is it, baby?"
He must've known, by that point. With how attuned he was to your body and needs as a general rule, it shouldn't have surprised you. Of course he knew you had it bad. He knew exactly what you liked and why you liked it, and he went so far as to break his one rule in order to drive you even crazier than usual. Maybe your brain shortcircuited too severely after that voicemail, because it was only now that you were realizing…
"You sent that on purpose," you said, a pout forming on your lips.
"Sure as shit didn't send it by accident," Frank retorted, an amused snort bubbling out of him.
"I'm being serious! You knew this whole time?"
"Knew what, huh? That my girl likes a little back and forth during sex?" he grinned, delivering a pinch to your hip.
"All sex is a back and forth, Frank," you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he meant but unable to avoid sassing him.
"M'not suggesting anything different," he shrugged, eyes slipping down your body with clear intention.
Right. Back and forth. He talks and you… You struggle not to come from his words alone. A tempting proposal.
"I want to. I'm just not sure what to do," you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as you finally took a good look at him. He looked good, his beard having grown out even more during his time away.
"What'd I say? You ain't gotta worry about that. S'my job. Just gotta listen to what I say," his voice rumbled in your ear as he leaned in again, a brief but meaningful touch of his body to yours making you realize he was half-hard already.
This man was going to be the death of you, but you had no doubt: he would always making good on his promises, especially the ones he whispered in your ear.
.
.
A/N: Just the product of a horny brain. Hope you enjoyed it!
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle imagine#frank castle smut#the punished x reader smut
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Can I get a whiskey with Frank castle and “I don’t deserve you” please?
Multi Talented.
warnings - smut. cursing.
haven't written frank in so long!! thank you for requesting <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
"Oh fuck, Frank."
You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, eliciting a groan from the man who's broad shoulders are keeping your legs apart.
"Shit, Frank. Just- I just - fuck, give me a minute to just-"
Your back arches off the bed as he sucks particularly hard, teeth grazing over your clit. You're panting, chest heaving, hands scrambling for purchase. You're not sure if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer.
He's doing this thing with his tongue, making it difficult for you to breathe. There are silver stars floating in front of your eyes, blurring your vision, shifting your reality.
The city outside hurries on, sirens and car horns soundtracking the night. The room is dark except for the light of the streetlamps, illuminating the shining purple bruise on Frank's cheekbone.
He pulls away to mutter under his breath, barely audible. You wouldn't hear if you weren't so in tune with everything he says or does.
"That's it, pretty girl."
"Atta girl. You got it."
"Yeah. Good fuckin' girl. So good f'me."
His low, raspy tone is what sends you over the edge, gasping as his fingers curl just right. You see salvation in your release, the universe white hot and blinding.
"Where did you learn to do that?" you ask breathlessly, relaxing back against the sheets.
"Told ya I know a few things," he chuckles, crawling up your body so you're face to face.
You kiss him eagerly, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself.
"I don't deserve you," you laugh.
"Let me show you how much you deserve me," he whispers against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs to part them for him again.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle imagine#frank castle smut#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader fluff#frank castle fluff#jon bernthal#murphy's 3k celebration#the punisher x reader#the punisher fluff#the punisher imagine#the punisher#the punisher smut
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my girl
frank castle x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI!!! mentions of alcohol consumption, roleplay-ish, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, soft dom!frank, degradation/praise kink, “daddy” and “sir”, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, cockwarming if you squint, little aftercare
summary: the game: no touching allowed
A/N: omg hey 🙈 it’s been a while! but I’m back! this is pure filth and I’m not ashamed! we all know Frank Castle would talk you through it!
COMMENTS/REBLOGS/LIKES ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND WELCOMED <;3
DONT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY SHIT.
It was one of those nights.
The kind where you and Frank attempted to pull your heads out of your asses after a shitty week and have fun for once.
He would argue that his version of fun was only found with a gun in his hand or kevlar strapped to his chest, and he truly meant it at one point, but that was before you, his girl, and he would do anything for his girl— even if it meant indulging you in your own fanatical definition of entertainment.
Your idea of fun, however, was a shitty dive bar that smelled like stale beer, wearing skimpy dresses that you found in adult stores, and pretending like you had never seen Frank a day in your life, imagining he was some hot shot trying to show you a good time.
It started off as a game. Frank didn’t get it at first, struggling with the idea that “pretending” wasn’t lying, it’s not lying, Frank. I still love you. It’s just a game, you have to convince me to come back home with you, but eventually it became a different challenge entirely— it was now healthy competition between the two of you, seeing who could last the longest without touching one another.
And it was one of those nights where you played dirty.
Wearing nothing but a silk slip that left nothing to the imagination and crotchless panties, you expertly navigated around the bar while the music bewitched you, leading you in different directions and drawing men towards your magnetic pull.
It didn’t take much for men to pay attention to you. You knew that, but more importantly, Frank knew that, and he was painfully aware of how alluring you were.
It was all fair game, and he let you have your fun, only finding comfort in knowing that he was the only one who could shove his face into your chest and cunt. That he was the only one that would take you home and pull moans out of you like it was his job. That he was the only one who could bury and empty himself into you and you would take all of it, because you were his girl.
Frank was more possessive than he led on, but it was the only consolation he had while playing your game. He ignored the few stray women that eventually found their way to him with ease. He didn’t enjoy their attention, it almost disgusted him, but he did appreciate the way your jealousy manifested itself.
You knew it was a game, that the blonde woman meant nothing to him, but the jealousy turned you into something else completely.
The envy mixed into the final swig of your drink and went down easily as it burned the back of your throat. The liquid courage warmed you enough to move, and you shuffled down from your perched stool with a fire stirring in your belly.
It wasn’t your fault that your purse conveniently fell from your shoulder, or the way your dress rose above your ass when you bent over to retrieve it, revealing your crotchless panties to the patrons of the bar. It also wasn’t your fault for the dog whistles that pierced through the music, the droopy eyed stares, or the coughing fit that Frank fell victim to as he choked on his beer.
You could practically taste victory, unable to hide the smirk that plastered against your cheeks as you collected your belongings, turning to face him. The win, however, was short lived, and your face fell when you caught his eye, unable to read his darkened expression.
Whether it was the churning alcohol or growing need between your thighs, you found the confidence to hold his gaze, paying attention to the way he slammed his beer back.
Fuck.
The game was over, that much was clear, and your heart hammered against your chest. Maybe you had gone too far this time. Maybe the panties were too much. Maybe he would understand if you apologized and forfeited this time. Maybe—
Fuck.
For a moment, you swore you faced the Punisher. He grew in size and stature, towering over you as he straightened, the random woman falling off of him in return. He was unreadable, almost threatening, but his façade flickered as he subtly nodded towards the door.
Fuck.
The tension was palpable. It practically trailed your wobbly stride as you found your way out of the bar, hiccuping down your anxiety. Frank followed your lead, silently stalking behind you. His presence was looming, and the silence was baiting your wanton anticipation.
“Frank,” you broke character, turning to face him.
His stride never faltered, and he beat you to the truck. “Frank, wait.”
“Ladies first.” The truck door swung open with a creak as Frank all but pulled it from its hinges, eager to usher you into your place.
You must’ve looked uneasy, tottering on the balls of your feet, and he took note of your lip tucked between your teeth.
“It’s okay,” he reassured you with a wink, holding out his hand to help you into your seat.
Yellow street lights hid the warmth in your cheeks as you softened beneath Frank’s gentleness, and you couldn’t help but hide a smirk as you made a final attempt to claim the last word at your own game.
The hem of your dress tickled the back of your thighs as you attempted to climb into the truck, only pausing to pull the rest of your dress over your hips. It was a lousy move given the circumstances— you pretending to busy yourself while exposing your dripping cunt for anyone in the parking lot to see, but you knew it would rile him up in a way that would benefit the both of you. Eventually.
“C’mon now, sweetheart,” Frank groaned at the sight before him, his own pants growing tighter while he studied the way your core glistened.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you quipped innocently. “I’m just looking for my phone.” You spread your legs ever so slightly, silently inviting him to have his way with you.
“That right?” He drew closer with slow, deliberate steps, knowing how much you enjoy the anticipation. It was exciting, and he was so close, and you were offering yourself to him, and the act was slipping…
“Cause I thought maybe it could be in here?” You jump as your purse lands in front of your face with a thud, bouncing in the driver's seat.
“Huh,” you let out an amused chuckle before Frank fit himself against your spread legs, a small gasp escaping your lips as he pressed himself into you, his bulge hitting your clit directly. “Probably is,” you whimpered, dropping your head as a silent thanks to the truck for providing a welcomed new height and angle.
“Probably is?” He questioned, his voice startling as his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He’s careful not to kiss you fully, not wanting to break the rules of your game, and he forces his arms to land on either side of you, caging you beneath him.
You felt his chest heave against your back and you smile to yourself, relishing in your ability to unravel the Punisher, but the victory is short lived; he unfurls himself from your bent form before delicately pulling your dress back down to cover your ass.
“C’mon.” His palm landed against your supple flesh and you yelped at the unexpected contact. “Let me take you home.”
“I win!” You exclaimed, nearly hitting your head on the inside of the truck.
“What?” He cocked his head to the side with a loose smile.
“I win!” You twisted in your seat to face him, your smile radiating in the dark. “You touched me first. I win.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He playfully shut the door in your face and you laugh, watching his lip curl into a smile as he fakes his own disappointment.
The door to your bedroom thudded against your weight, the doorknob rattling as you blindly maneuvered your way into your room.
“Frank,” you moaned into his mouth, pulling him impossibly close while stumbling towards your bed. The mattress dipped below your combined weight, Frank hovering over your sprawled frame.
Your hands traveled the length of his body, studying every contour of muscle like you would lose him if he pulled away. “Touch me,” you whispered, catching him by surprise.
“Aht aht,” he laughs into your neck at your demand, his lips attaching to your steady pulse. “You know the rules, babydoll. You gotta finish first before I can touch you.”
“But,” you attempt to refute your own rules.
“You wanna act like a big girl? You can make yourself cum.” He places deliberate kisses down your neck, taking extra care to suck on your delicate skin. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
It was so patronizing, the condescension sweet and sticky and so contrasting from the way he cradled your head, stroking your hairline before planting a kiss to your temple.
“Yes sir,” you submit willingly, whining when he peels himself away from you.
“Atta girl, you can do it,” he encourages you before settling on his side, adjusting comfortably into your mattress.
His eyes widened as you lifted yourself from the bed, pulling the billowy silk off of your frame before throwing it in his direction. You played into your short-lived victory, tracing your fingertips alongside the curves of your body and cupping your breasts together, letting a moan escape as your fingers brushed your hardened nipples.
It was obvious your ministrations affected Frank, and you watched as he pulled at his jeans, clearing his throat to conceal his grunt.
As much as you loved his response to your body, you can’t help but notice the way your breath catches in your throat while you watch him palm himself through the rough denim. It was a silent invitation for you to do the same, finally realizing how agonizing the ache in between your thighs had grown.
The elastic band of your barely there panties hadn’t made it around your fingers before Frank interrupted.
“Leave 'em on,” he huffed a laugh. “Ain’t hiding shit anyway.”
Your cheeks flushed at his enthusiasm, and you sheepishly found your place on the bed, your bare back resting against the headboard. It was only then when you realized how exposed you truly were, and you pressed your thighs together for some semblance of modesty.
“What’s the matter?” he teased. “You nervous or somethin’?”
“Mhm,” you nod your head, stifling a moan when your thighs instinctively clench together, adding just enough pressure against your already sensitive clit.
“Funny,” he chuckled, “cause you sure as hell weren’t shy before.” He was right, and you knew it, your skin consequently growing warm as he spotlighted your cheap plays at winning. “So go on,” he continues, “show me how a pretty whore like you wants to be touched.”
The expletive took you by surprise, but you obeyed shamelessly. Eagerly. Spreading your legs open as an offering to the man who watched just a few feet away as your fingers dipped between your thighs, pressing gently against your clit.
“Fuck,” you moaned, your lip finding its place between your teeth.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” Frank cooed towards you, his tongue darting across his bottom lip while his eyes flash between your scrunched face and drenched fingertips.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“What was that?” He goaded.
“Yes, daddy,” you correct yourself. “Feels… so good.”
He moaned alongside you, grunting as he pulled himself out of the confines of his pants. You watched unabashedly as he spit into his palm before pumping his already weeping cock, the sight only pushing you closer towards your orgasm.
You made no attempts at hiding your pleasure.
“Fuck,” you whined, grinding your hips as your fingers circled your clit.
“There you go, that’s it,” Frank matched your pace, stroking his length as he spurred you on. “That’s my good girl, makin’ that pussy feel so good for daddy.”
“It feels so good,” your head fell against the headboard with a thud, but you hardly noticed. His gaze felt like fire creeping up your body as he studied you with anticipation. “I’m close,” you squeaked.
“Yeah? You’re doin’ so good, pretty girl,” he praised.
Your fingers worked tirelessly as you chased the familiar feeling, and you held your breath as the pressure grew.
“Attagirl, look at you. Just like that,” he bit his own lip while fisting his cock. “Be a good girl and cum for me.
“I’m gonna cum,” you croak out, too busy concentrating on the budding climax to notice the way Frank savored your rising chest and your fingers working your dripping cunt.
“That’s it, cum for daddy.”
It was overwhelming and you were unprepared for his attention, all but crying out as he expertly ran a thick finger between your folds before plunging into you. He hooked himself to your core while manually pulling your orgasm from your body, never breaking a steady rhythm.
“Fuck, don’t stop!” Your body stiffened and you held onto Frank’s forearm as your pleasure uncoiled and gushed from your core.
There was no time to process what happened or to even catch your breath; he clasped onto your ankles, pulling you closer to him before he delved into your wetness, collecting all of you on his tongue, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit.
“Frank!” you jumped at the sensitivity.
“Taste so good sweetheart,” he adjusted accordingly, continuing his languid strokes and moaning into the taste of your pussy.
You can’t help but ride out your high and grind against his tongue as he laps up the remnants of your orgasm, shuddering at each flick of his tongue against your clit.
It was too much and not enough all at the same time. He was close, but you needed him closer.
“I want you,” you reached down, pulling him to your lips. He moaned as your teeth nipped and sucked at his lower lip, savoring the taste of your arousal.
“What’s that?” He baited you, all but ripping his clothes from his body.
“I, fuck-“ you moaned as he lightly tapped his heavy cock against your swollen nub before trailing himself through your folds. “I want you, Frankie.”
“You do?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“I don’t really believe you, sweet girl,” he softened ever so slightly at the name, and you almost believed he would be merciful and indulge you, but his jaw tightened and his expression hardened in front of you. “Beg for it.”
Although deserved, it was a cruel, cruel punishment.
“I want you to fuck me,” you began, jutting your hips towards his cock sliding against you. “I want you to use me.”
He moaned at that— the way you submitted yourself to him, spreading your legs further apart to tease him into submission, waiting for him to break.
“I want you to fill me up and make me yours,” you snaked your hand between your bodies and guided his cock into your drenched cunt.
A hiss filled the room as he buried himself into you in one motion, and you groaned at the sudden sensation. He met your every need and ache, leaving you breathless and with double vision. Completely entranced by the delicious fullness.
“This what you wanted?” He growled into your ear, his body hovering over yours as he thrusted with precision. “Wanted me to use you like a good little slut?”
Your response was guttural, and you grabbed onto any part of him, pulling him in for more, more, more.
“Feels so fuckin’ good,” his lips brushed the soft curve of your neck. “Like that pussy was just made for me, ain’t that right?”
Of course it was right, every fiber of your being screamed out for him. He was insatiable, and it would never be enough.
“S-so good,” you stuttered through chattering teeth, attempting to focus your gaze on his face. “Feels so good, you feel so good.”
“God, look at you,” he cooed. “Already fucked out, huh? Have you had enough, sweetheart?”
You almost said yes; each thrust of his hips was a coordinated attack against your g spot, and you were debilitated, barely able to conjure words, let alone sentences.
“No,” you mustered. “Need you to use me, please.”
His brows creased together, your request causing him to teeter towards his own pleasure.
“You’re doin’ so good for me. Takin me like such a good girl,” he spit on his fingers before rubbing circles over your clit. “Want you to cum with me. Can you do that?”
“Mhm,” you didn’t think it was possible, but dammit you would try. You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to draw the scattered pieces of your brain together to revel in his movements, becoming pliable in his hands.
“That’s it,” he grunted, enjoying the sight of his length disappearing into your dripping pussy. “Takin’ me so well, that’s my girl.”
You moaned at his praise, relishing in the way he claimed you both physically and verbally. He knew you were close, and you knew he was closing in on his precipice. He could feel the way you pulsed around him, beckoning his own release, and he gave into you completely.
“Cum for me, daddy.”
It came out so sweet he thought he imagined it.
“Keep talkin’ like that and I will,” he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would prolong the pleasure.
“Cum in my pussy, please. I need you.” You whimpered as you replaced his fingers with your own, chasing your own release while cupping his neck to bring his lips to yours. “So close,” you whined.
“‘Want daddy to fill that pretty pussy up, hm?” He mumbled into your open mouth.
“Yes sir.”
You were so close. It was right there.
“Be a good girl and cum with me.”
The room erupted in a cacophony of moans and you were sure flames had licked your skin. Your thighs shook against their will as your orgasm rolled over you, radiating between your bodies.
“Attagirl, there it is.” Frank admired the way your body responded to him, the way you clung to him while your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung agape. You were so beautiful sprawled out, and he gripped onto your fleshy hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“Fuck!” He groaned into the side of your neck as you pulsed around him, his thrusts growing sloppy before he spilled into you.
There was a moment of clarity between your blissful haze where you became aware of his presence, and the incessant need to have him closer overshadowed everything.
“So good,” you cupped his face, ignoring the way his stubble tickled your palms before pressing your trembling lips to his.
“So good,” he repeated, his nose pressing into yours while your lips met. “Did so good for me.”
He carefully pulled himself from you, never breaking the kiss even as you hissed. He simply ran a large hand along your head before looking over you.
“You okay sweetheart?”
You gave a drowsy, heavy-lidded smile with a shaky thumbs up from beneath him and he chuckled before placing a chaste kiss along your sternum and settling on top of you.
The added weight was welcomed and comforted you, acting as some grounding agent to bring you back together. It was the same for Frank; he clung to you, his arms wrapping around your fleshy frame while his fingertips pressed into you, memorizing each curve and contour of your body.
You followed suit, running your fingertips along the lines of muscles and splatters of raised scars before lazily squeezing him. He hummed when you grazed your nails along his scalp and nestled into your chest accordingly.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” you sleepily confess.
“Don’t worry bout it.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Nah.” His eyes remained closed, much to your confusion.
You were quiet for a moment, not fully understanding his answer. He knew you were quizzical. He didn’t need to look at you to know your face was scrunched and your eyebrows creased while you attempted to do the mental math behind his answer.
“Ain’t mad cause you’re my girl,” he beat you to it. “Unless you got somethin’ to tell me.” You could feel his smile against your chest.
“No I don’t,” you relaxed. “I’m your girl.”
#frank castle#frank castle smut#soft!dom frank castle#frank castle x female reader#the punisher#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle x reader smut#the punisher smut#the punisher fanfiction
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focus on me
summary: you tease frank while he’s on a call
pairing: frank castle x male reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: 18+ warning, domestic frank castle, sex while on call, blowjobs, top!frank obviously
a/n: from a prompt by hailey !! (omg mike 2 fics in a day?)
masterlist | more frank castle
It was a Sunday morning spent watching football with Frank. He sat on the couch holding the remote while you were lying down with your legs resting on his lap. He was busy watching the game and you were completely unaware of what was going on. He would cheer, curse at the TV, shout, and almost throw the remote.
“Fuck! What the fuck is up with this ref?” he said, throwing his hands around.
He was so serious, his brows furrowed and his body so animated. You try to tease him through his sweatpants, the heel of your foot lightly grazing his crotch. You twist and turn on the couch to show that you were just shifting for a more comfortable position, but the truth is you were focused on getting him hard.
“Babe,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“You’re so riled up with that game I figured you could ease up a bit,” You feel his crotch harden underneath your heel. You sit beside him, palming his growing erection. “It looks like it’s working though.”
He grunts, your middle finger drawing circles around his tip. You loosen the tie around his waist, putting your hand underneath the fabric to release his cock. It was thick, your fingers wrapping around the whole shaft. The tip was already red and leaking, your index finger spread the wetness all over to form some lubrication as you stroked it.
“Shit—,” Frank groaned.
You were about to take him in your mouth before the phone started to ring. Frank moved over to reach for the phone, his cock still bare. He answers the call–it was David Lieberman.
“Hey, what’s up.”
“There’s a problem with the site,” David said through the phone. You tried to back off—to let him finish before playing with his cock again; but the aching red tip was taunting you, practically begging for touch.
As they were discussing some work stuff you started to stroke his cock again. Frank’s eyes darted towards you enlarged with his brows furrowed. What the hell are you doing? He mouthed. You opened your mouth, saliva dripping like a clear string on his cock. You stroked him again before you took him in your mouth.
Frank grunted. “All good there boss?” David asked.
“Yeah yeah all good,” he cleared his throat. His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you as you tasted him.
Frank tried to stifle his groans, his grip on your head getting tighter. Your lips wrapped around his thick length, sucking in all the air as you bobbed up and down. His hips started to buck into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
You pulled off from his cock with your lips making a popping sound. You gasped for air as David continued to ramble about money and costings. Frank pulled away from the phone to speak.
“Oh so now you want to pull away? Nuh-uh kid, go back at it,” he said, pulling your head back in.
Your eyes started to well with tears as he fucked into your throat, using your mouth like a toy for his pleasure. He continued to talk to David, almost as if you weren’t there. Your jaw started to sore, your lips dripping wet, and your back hunched over. Your crotch started to stir.
“Attaboy.”
You started to use your hands to stroke him, even fondling his balls. Your warm hands and wet mouth drew the hardest grunts from Frank. You could hear David ask him if he was okay.
“Yeah, just need a drink that’s all,” he said, clearing his throat. “Talk to the other guys, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.”
“Sure thing boss,” David said, dropping the call after.
You look up at him with teary eyes. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, patting your head like you just did a good job. He pulls you to his lap taking off your lower garments before straddling him. You align his tip with your hole, slowly sinking in. You held onto his broad shoulders for stabilization, his lips smirking as you wince in pain.
“Fuck—it’s too big,” you cry out.
“You the one who started this,” he said sternly. “You gotta finish it.”
He holds your waist, pulling you down on his erection as it stretches you open. You cry out once more, your nails digging into his skin as you try to stay calm. You started to move your hips, moving it in circles, his cock filling you to the brim. It was an immense pleasure, the heat from your body rises tenfold. You ride him faster and with more vigor, your eyes closing in.
He takes your chin to fix it in his gaze.
“Open your eyes when I fuck you,” he said, lifting you so he can move his hips into you. He was quick and rough, your brows twitching trying not to close your lids.
He lays you down on the couch so that he’s on top. His large arms above you as he fucked into your hole, your legs shaking and clenching in. You wrap your arms around his neck, moving your hips in sync with his. At that moment you felt your body join him, in complete synchronicity, both pleasure-bound.
“Frank—” you moaned out.
His lips let out hard grunts, his dark hair plastered across his forehead. You couldn’t stop admiring him. His stubbled face and his crooked nose. This man was all yours, to tease and to toy with, to fuck and to adore.
“You gotta cum for me alright,” he groaned. “Then I’ll cum inside you, yeah?”
He started to buck his hips, his biceps flexing and his hands more veiny. The pleasure was too much, it was sending a thousand shocks of electricity all over your body. Your vision started to darken, Frank started to grunt louder, his thrusts more erratic.
“Shit—shit,” Frank repeated as he hit his climax, spilling his cum inside you.
You came all over your chest, some on Frank’s. He collapsed on top of you after, his large body weighing on you. You kissed him on the cheek, patting his head.
“I think you missed the game,” you said, turning on to see that the game was done.
“Fuck the game, we’re not done yet.”
“What?”
“Yeah, this is your fault for teasing me,” he said nonchalantly. “Now go on your hands and knees, I’m fucking you again.”
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle x male reader#frank castle x male reader smut#frank castle fic#frank castle smut#frank castle x you#punisher fic#punisher smut#punisher x reader#punisher x reader smut#punisher x male reader#punisher x male reader smut
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sit around and miss you
pairing. frank castle x female! reader.
an. hello!!!! pls reblog & comment if u like !!! love u
warnings. 18+. female receiving penetration, spit play (!!in mouth!!), detailed descriptions of violence, use of the word sir, references to somnophilia (but not actually happening), mouth covering? with hand. frank’s a big meany who loves you.
synopsis. frank’s antsy after a night shift, especially when his buddies were talking smack about how he’s leaving you in bed all alone.
Sometimes, Frank works nights.
It used to be his full-time gig, but now that he’s moved onto a new line of work, he only has to do it once a week. On the Jobsite for eight pm, finish at four am. In bed by five. Showered.
His hair damp and sticking on end from where he’d shoved a towel through it, too tired to care about the consequences of sleeping with it wet.
Just wants to get into bed, curl up behind you, and breathe morning sunshine, into the skin of your back before sleeping until lunchtime.
Every so often though, he gets distracted.
When he’s wired from being on a construction site for the last eight hours, and from the coffee he’d consumed, gallons of it, you’d said, but it was more like a litre – he’s not ready to sleep.
See’s you snuggled up in your shared bed.
Blanket stuffed between your limbs, legs wrapped around the fabric, letting him see the bare skin of your legs and the little slither of skin at the bottom of your back from where your shirt has risen. Cute little sleep socks fuzzy around your ankles.
The skin of your thighs, soft on top of the duvet, and the way your shorts didn’t really fit you anymore, but every summer night you tugged the washed-out cotton on, driving Frank crazy by the way the fabric stops just after it starts.
I think it’s time to get new shorts sweetheart.
Your smug smile as you scrunch your face up. You don’t really mean that.
He didn’t.
Same way he didn’t really want to let you sleep.
Wanted to tug your shorts down and stretch you open. Slip inside of you. Feel how warm you are, all sleepy and groggy, whimpering his name as he says, shhh shh, go back to sleep baby. It’s just me. I’ll be quick I promise.
Franks wired again.
Chomping at the god damn bit.
The guys at work were giving him shit. In his onsite office, there’s a picture of you on his desk. One taken last summer. You’re smiling at the camera, glistening from the vitamin D, and dressed in a pretty, frilly, and short summer dress.
A bunch of guys were in his office, talking about on loads and offloads when O’Brien made a whistling sound and tugged at the picture frame.
“That your girl, Castle?”
“That’s my wife, O’Brien.”
“Damnnnnn,” Simpson sounded, taking the frame, “and you left that in bed to come here?”
Yeah. He did. And he felt bad about it every time. Even if before he left, you’d cup his face and kiss his forehead, saying, go bring home the bacon. Even if you pouted at his sad face, saying, you’ll be home soon.
He imagined your pouty face then, as the guys were ogling over your picture.
Imagined you saying, Frank, again? As he dripped blood onto the welcome mat. Covered head to toe in it, the stains from what was left of O’Brien and Simpson.
Last time, I promise.
You said that before.
Some guys just needed to be put down.
He thought about it. He really did. Thought about taking the paperweight you’d bought for him and slamming it against O’Brien’s head. Felt the impact, feeling it rattle through his frame before breathing a sigh of relief.
Then again, maybe not.
That didn’t stop him from laughing along with his buddies, though, as he got up from his chair. Stating a level of calm as he walked around his desk, nodding, saying, yeah, yeah, I did, as he took the frame from Simpson’s fingers, and then dropped his smile.
Going completely serious.
Face a death mask, absolutely nothing going on behind his black eyes. The boys’ laughter turned nervous. High pitch sounds trailed off, looking at each other for help as Frank stood there silently, time ticking by.
He could do it for hours.
He hadn’t needed to, though.
“Hey, Castle—” a voice from the door, punctuated by a knock. “They need you at the drop site.”
He chooses to ignore how wired he is.
He chooses to sit at the edge of the bed you share and stare into the darkness, the moonlight cutting the room in half from the slits in the blinds. Chooses to ignore the desire swimming in his belly.
The feeling that’s been brewing since the guys made their comments. The feeling that burns deep, so deep sometimes that it scares him.
The feeling to take. To possess. To consume.
You blink awake suddenly, the feeling of someone in the room waking you up. There’s a white figure in front of you, turned on its side from your position.
You let out a little breath of surprise, whispering, “Frank?” in a concerned tone. He shifts quickly, turning round to face you. Messy damp hair and fingers combing through his beard.
“Hi baby,” he greets, whispering so as to not disturb you further.
Still, you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Did you just get in?”
“Half an hour ago?”
He watches you shift across the bed, the moonlight bathing you, reminding him that you went to sleep in shorts and a thin tank top. “Mm,” you begin, sitting on your knees in front of him, “and you’re just sitting there?”
“Mm-hmm,” he nods, black eyes tracing your features.
“Like a weirdo,” you tease, raising a brow.
He doesn’t laugh, just chews on his bottom lip and watches you. Sees the way you sit on the backs of your thighs, your hands on the tops, arms inadvertently pushing your breasts together in your thin vest.
“I guess so,” he trails off.
“What’s up?” you frown.
He gives you a non-committed shrug.
“Something happen at work?”
He blinks.
Bingo.
There it is.
Still, he shrugs. Doesn’t say a word as his eyes drunkenly study your features, seeing your puffy lips, and sleepy face. The way you wait so patiently for an answer. He knows that It’s just because you’ve just woken up.
Any normal day, you’d be scoffing, saying, I’m not a mind reader, Frank, before dramatically rolling your eyes.
His finger comes out to smooth over your hip.
“Frank,” you whisper, cocking your head to the side. It didn’t matter that you’d been together for what had felt like a millennium – Frank got quiet. Tried to hide his demons in his silence. In his hard face and busted nose.
You reach out, now, and trace the bumps there, cooing, saying, I can’t help if I don’t know.
He smells shower fresh. His hard, scarred skin is soft and clean. Hair damp at the edges, beard a little wet, too. Pretty. His naked back flexing – tense. Muscular chest the same, yet you trail the length of his nose. Delicately lift your finger and trace the outline of his eyebrows, leaning forward. Frank stays where he is.
Tell me, you breathe.
Frank decides to show you.
Something snaps. That tense, that clench that he was holding onto disperses into the night as his big palm comes out and collects your waist, driving your back into the pillows as his body hovers over you.
Surprised, a shocked sound tumbles from your mouth before Frank covers it, tasting your sleep and mint with his quick tongue.
It consumes you.
You’re still in that groggy, half-awake phase and it causes you to react slowly. You’re silent and unmoving from his touch until your body awakens.
Ohhh. So, this was what he was fighting? You wonder, feeling his big, bumpy nose mesh against your cheek as he kisses you, mouth hungry and skilled, tinged with a little desperation, then a lot as your legs lazily open, his body slotting against yours perfectly.
He grumbles against your mouth, your crotch brushing against his chest.
The sound echoes throughout the night, throughout your bewildered body, and it forces your thighs to tighten around him, feet crossing over at the bottom of his back and slackly pushing at the elastic of his sleep trousers. Digging into the muscle of his ass and across the scar there.
He pulls away, your mouth trailing after his until his big hand comes into view, tightening around your jaw.
The ghost of a smile finds your lips, one that makes Frank go warm. Though, he frowns. “The guys at work were talking about you.”
The admission makes you mimic his face.
“They saw the picture I have of you…asked how I could leave a woman like you all alone in bed.”
A woman like you. A woman like me? you think.
“Gosh, such a travesty,” you say, rolling your eyes. You introduce a pout, your tone twisting into a mocking sound.
“Oh, Frank! What ever would I do without my man?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles. Still, you carry on, a light-hearted, sleepy smile on your face as you clutch his chest.
“I am lost, lost without you! Whenever you’re away, I just sit around and miss you!”
Which is not entirely wrong, if you’re being honest.
Frank’s face gets hard. “It pissed me off, having them question me. Question…” my love for you.
“Ohhh,” you whisper, leaning up to brush against his wanting mouth. “So, you want to show them who’s boss?”
Frank shakes his head. “They’re right, how on earth could I leave you alone in our bed?”
He mouths at the dip at your neck. Tongue jutting out to lick at your skin, making your mouth open to the white of your ceiling.
His large, bear-like palm flattens across your body, smoothing down your side to the small shorts. “Especially dressed like this.”
He’s half-hard against you already, cock pushing against the bottom of your belly. The feel of him is a welcome one. It fuels you on – makes you act on instinct and rut your hips up into him, grinding your crotch against his length.
“Oh fuck,” he curses, the end of the word high pitch and breathy. You carry on grinding your clothed cunt against him, feeling him swell, hearing his breathing quicken and he tries to hide it, tries to muffle it against the hot skin of your neck but it’s no use.
“God,” you gasp, clenching as the head of his cock brushes at your clit. The side of his face comes into view, and he moves to kiss the underside of your jaw.
Moves lower, mouth trailing over your collar bones while his big fingers tug at the elastic of your vest, forcing your tits to spill out.
With your fingers in his long hair, he mouths at your hardened nipple, tongue lapping at the skin and sucking it into his mouth.
“I nearly killed them, I swear,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Your sleepy brain remembers how this started.
He would have and don’t you know it.
But, right now, you’re too focused on the feeling of his calloused hand gently rubbing at your skin. Too focused on the wet of his mouth spreading over your breast, his teeth running over you ever so gently, forcing you to gasp his name.
You rake your nails lower, over the top of his hard, muscular back. Ground-up again, hips rolling against the tense skin of his chest.
God, you’re tired. So fucking turned on, too. The drowsy feeling, mixed with the heightened sensation of his cock still pushing at your clit makes you loopy, makes you mouldable.
He’s being so gentle with you, yet his words are venomous – tinged with hate.
“Smash their heads in for even looking at you.”
He would, too.
Back then, probably. Didn’t he do that one time? …you can’t remember.
Big bad Frank Castle. Your, big bad Frank Castle, who’s leaving marks over your chest with his tongue, mumbling out, kill em, for looking at my pretty girl.
He tongues your nipple, chuckling at himself.
“I will pay thousands of dollars to keep the heating on, just so you can go to bed in outfits like these every night,” Frank declares.
You close your eyes and arch your back, a dreamy smile on your face as you tease, “What’s the point if you just leave me here all alone though?”
He stops. In the dark, you can feel his breathing fluttering against your face. Dragging your eyes open, he’s there, that big nose that you love, the wet lips you dream about. Black eyes that make you squirm.
“Hi,” you giggle, thinking it’s funny. Frank’s face is serious, though.
“You laughing at me, baby?” he asks.
“No way,” you sound, shaking your head. Still, there’s delirium in your eyes. In the silence of the night, Frank watches you. Sees you chewing on your lips, and sees the way you’re lazily blinking at him.
“What’s the matter?” he asks softly.
“M'sleepy.”
Suddenly, Frank feels like an asshole.
His face crumbles.
You see it happening, see his self-hatred rearing up to come and grab him.
“I’m sorry, baby—I,” he starts, and Nononono, you think.
Quickly, you shake your head. Kiss his lips to quiet him, peck at his cheek, his thick neck, “m’want you, though,” you mumble against him, hoping the words seep into his skin.
Frank’s silent, contemplative. You slide your fingers back into his hair, mould your mouth to his and hitch your hips up, sliding your clothed pussy against his dick.
“M’was dreaming about you,” you admit, and the admission forces a pained groan out of him. He kisses you back, albeit with less vigour than before. Battling with himself.
“Whenever you’re gone, I always do. Think about moments like this,” you carry on, grinding your hips into him, whimpering out when the head of his dick meets your clit again and your tone is breathless as you whisper against his mouth, “think about waking up with you inside of me.”
You swear he whimpers, but the sound disperses as he meshes his mouth deeper, tongue pushing against yours with his big hand wandering over your body.
Over your tits, stomach, until he stuffs it between your legs, dragging a desperate whine from you, then the truth.
“When um all sleepy, and groggy.”
His fingers push at the damp fabric – against your clit. The pressure makes you blind, makes you carry on.
“and you’re just so big on top of me,” you sigh, tasting his spit, imaging him, then feeling him, his body a weighted blanket.
“and you’re telling me to shhh, covering my mouth and just saying, take it.”
He mutters something against you, but you can’t hear it. Can just feel him, rolling your clit round and round, your slick pooling in your shorts.
It makes your back arch, makes you sob his name into his mouth before he opens his eyes and juts his spare hand out, taking your jaw in his big palm again.
Your breath catches, pussy clenches at the sensation, and it makes you whimper out, “I want you inside of me.”
Frank says, okay baby, and spits in your mouth.
You hear it before you see it, or taste it, even.
Hear the wet sound, then feel it trickling over your lips and chin, pooling above his fingers at your jaw.
Like a trained pet, your tongue comes out, silently begging, again.
You know it’s just your tired, groggy brain talking, but It feels like a fucking religious experience. He spits into your mouth again, dribbles onto your wanting tongue, forcing your cunt to clench again, clit throbbing – aching, as you taste him.
He kisses the remainder away, his tongue flat and dragging your mouth into his. He’s still moving his big finger, still dragging your clit in tight, skilled circles.
You cry again, the sound twisting into a moan as he hits a nerve. Heat pools at your lower back. You clench again, pouting against his mouth.
“I know,” Frank soothes, and he does, can feel it, feel how wet you are, fabric slick with you.
So, he speeds up and hears your resulting cries as you clench the duvet in your fists, tits bouncing as your body shudders.
Frank bends down and takes one in his mouth. He runs his teeth over your nipple and you’re sobbing, throwing your head back and clinging to his hair. Hips grinding into his hand, nodding, whispering, “please, oh god, please.”
“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos, then, he smiles, “take it.”
You come then, fingers stuffed into his hair, his name tumbling from your lips. The feeling spreads over your thighs, your cunt, in your belly, your slick leaking into your underwear.
“God, oh my fucking god,” you sob, clenching, Frank’s finger’s still going, and you try and push him away, squirming, the pressure overwhelming but he’s a stone, mouth still sucking at your nipple.
You can’t come down. The feeling never ends, instead, it triples with his movement, making your nerves shot, and overstimulated.
“F-Frank,” you sob, and he must hear your tone because when you shove your hands down to push his away, he lets you.
Drags his mouth up to kiss you. Swallows down your whimpers. Says, there you go, with his damp fingers brushing over your own. He lets you sober up, even if the feeling has made you drunk. Made you liquid.
“You ready to take me now, pretty?” His dark husk asks.
The thought makes you cry. “Yes please,” you shiver, reaching up to kiss him. You’re still so eager, greedy, begging him to push inside of you with your deep kiss and wandering hands.
“Atta girl,” Frank compliments, the words washing over you, making you dumb.
“Let’s get your shorts off, huh?”
Clothes on the floor, Frank’s lining himself up with your aching hole. You watch, legs spread open, then feel him start to push the head in.
“Shit,” you hiss, head falling back – pussy clenching around him already. He slides his hands over the inside of your thighs and the feeling goes straight to your clit.
“Relax baby,” he whispers, eyes flicking up to yours, “or I’m not gonna fit.”
You nod, breathing, “Okay.”
Then, “Okay, okay, okay.”
“Shh shh shh,” he repeats, bending his head down to kiss you. Your arms come around the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair, taking his lips, and sinking back into the bed.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his voice a husk, his praise melting you, making you loose and slack.
Slowly, he guides himself in. Big enough to stretch you open and the sound of your pussy squelching fills your ears, followed by Frank grunting, the grumble spilling into your open mouth.
God, he slips all the way in. Fills you up so full that you cry, stutter a sob, breath caught in the back of your throat. Brain going cloudy, body melting into his.
“You’re so pretty like this,” Frank mutters, slotting his lips over yours, “stuffed with my cock.”
“Oh my God,” you quiver, shaking your head, begging for him to just shut up cause he’s making you lightheaded. He’s so deep inside of you, just staying there, cock twitching, forcing a pout onto your lips as he looks at you, so fucking close.
Like he’s inside of you, consuming you, and sometimes you wish he did. Sometimes you want him to climb inside of your body and take over. Wear you like a fucking puppet.
How do you miss him when he’s right there? On top of you, kissing at your swollen lips and soothing you with his words.
He pushes his hands under your thighs and lifts your hips. The position slides him deeper. Makes his cock push up into you, into that spongy part inside of you that forces your eyes to roll back, your cunt clenching around him so tight that he hisses, groaning deeply. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it.
“’take me so good baby, s’like you were made for me.”
“I was,” you respond because he’s made you honest. In the delirium of him, you’re saying whatever he wants. Saying what you’ve had buried inside of you for so long, waiting for moments like this.
When he slides his dick out, the ridges of him pushing against your walls, then slowwwwlyyy sinks back in, you’re spilling some of those truths.
“It’s true,” you weep, voice whiny and desperate.
Mouth against his, kissing him sloppily, the sound of your pussy taking him filling the room.
“I do sit around and miss you,” you admit, and Frank punctuates the comment by fucking up into you, rolling his hips upwards and god you’re moaning, clutching the back of his head and his face is all fuzzy from your hooded eyes, your mouth still wet with his spit and you give it back to him, tongue sliding into his mouth to take him and take him and take him and, “I’m yours,” you weep.
Frank fucking laughs.
Laughs into your mouth, the sound of it twinged with frenzy.
He shakes his head, “I’ve trained you so god damn well, haven’t I?” and thrusts into you, splitting you open with his cock. The response bursts from your mouth -- “Yes,” you sob, nodding and chewing on your bottom lip.
“You just wait here, sitting pretty in our bed until I come home, huh?”
“Yes sir,” you agree, and it’s not even like that. Not once has he even hinted that he wanted it like that, but fuck the word just came out. Fell out of your pretty mouth and Frank goes wild with it, groans deep, grunts, Jesus Christ, and starts fucking you faster to thank you.
“Is that how you want it?” he asks, his black eyes pouring into yours. Your pussy is still sensitive from coming earlier. Sopping wet, puffy, and swollen from his fingers and now from his cock pushing up into you.
The feeling pulls out more truths, and they’re lined with the high pitch, desperate whines that only come out when he’s fucking you like this.
You shake your head.
“No?” he asks, raising a thick brow.
You giggle, then, and the sweet sound is twisted with a loud groan as his big fingers come down and stuff into your pussy, pushing at your clit. Your body goes white-hot.
“How do you want it then baby?” he asks.
“I just wanna feel you,” you whisper, so fucked out that you’ve lost your voice. You drag your fingers across the muscles in his upper back, fiddle with his hair and carry on, “wanna feel you come inside of me.”
He growls. Growls as if he’s a god damn dog and buries his red face into your shoulder, hiding from you and your effect on him.
It makes you whine, “m’wanna see you, too.”
“Wanna see me,” he mutters to himself, appearing from your shoulder.
Frank reaches back and collects your arms – pushes them behind you, his wide palm locking around your wrists. The movement makes you stutter.
“Look at me then, baby,” he orders.
He’s got you stretched out and open for him – free to be toyed with. Open enough that you feel the cool air on your hot skin. Feel his eyes everywhere, consuming you as he leans back and studies your body. Looks at the swell of your tits, the fabric of your vest stretched beneath them.
The skin at your stomach. Spread of your pussy as his thighs keep you sprawled open. Looks at you with his Black eyes – a god damn demon – wearing that look, animalistic.
“Should take a picture of you like this,” he mumbles. Slowly, he moves his damp fingers upwards, spreading your slick across your lower stomach. “I’ll frame it and put it on my desk.”
The comment fills you with shame because you’re agreeing, nodding your head then hiding it in the crook of your arm.
Whatever he wants. Whatever Frank wants.
“That’s right, sweetheart. S’whatever Frank wants.”
Hadn’t realised you’d said it out loud, but it’s there, now, so you nod.
Nod and nod and nod and say whatever Frank wants Frank gets and he groans, grunts, says, attagirl. My perfect girl. My sweet, sweet girl, lemme make you come again. Want you to come around my fucking cock and he leans down, spreads you open and starts speaking into your neck, fucking you steadily, fingers rolling your clit around in tight, wet circles.
Give it to me sweetheart, you gonna let me have it?
You’re seeing stars.
Vision blurry and white, nothing but the feeling of Frank to ground you. Words tumble out of your mouth, an endless trail of incoherent babble but it must make some sense because Frank responds.
He nods, says, that’s it. Keeps going at his steady, skilled pace. Teeth run over the delicate skin of your throat, and you gasp, clenching around his cock, clenching tight enough that Frank curses. Says, “Shit – god damnit girl.”
Heat pools around your thighs, dialling down to your clit as Frank speeds his fingers up, pushing them into the nerve, forcing you to gush around him.
Tight, neck straining, back arching, and god you can feel it washing over you, feel it coming up, reaching up to come and grab you.
“Frank,” you whine, aching and breathless. It’s just his name. Brain filled up with the five letters.
“Frank, Frank – God.”
Your pussy tightens around his cock like a vice, clenching hard and unyielding and Frank groans, nodding, going, “shit, can fucking feel it.”
Everything is pressurised. Eagerly, you push your hips up into his cock, locking your legs around his waist, tightening up like a clam. “God,” you say again, and It comes out as if you’re pleading.
“That’s it,” Frank soothes. Kisses you, deep and long, tongue tasting your desperation and you whine around it, skin a live wire. “Don’t stop,” you beg against his damp mouth. “Please don’t stop I’m gonna come baby, I’m gonna—”
Frank’s palm comes up and flattens over your mouth.
“Stop talking about it and fucking come then.”
That’s it. He bullies you over the edge with his mean marching order and you weep, nod, eyes rolling back into your head as your clit throbs, spasming, heat flooding over your groin and making you tighten your entire body around him.
Frank fucks you through it. Releases the pressure, his Cock slick with you, white and sopping and everything aches but it feels so god damn good that it doesn’t matter.
He’s hovering, inches away from your face -- watching you through wild eyes.
“Shit,” he groans as your pussy carries on clenching around his cock, the feeling not stopping.
It bleeds through your subconscious; makes you babble against his palm. Frank looks at where your bodies join, at where he’s pushed deep into your pussy.
“Jesus christ--” he drags, “look at you, milking my god damn cock.”
When he pulls his hand away from your mouth, your sobs fill the room. Echo against the walls. A choking gasp muddled with his name.
“Thank you,” you tremble, body shaking with the come down. “Oh my fucking God, thank you.”
He lets go of your hands, too, letting them come around to cradle the back of his head. He shakes it, face sincere, slowing his movements to let you catch up. Come back down to earth.
“I haven’t even given you what you wanted yet, baby. I still gotta come inside.”
Coming has had you lightheaded. Has made your brain fuzzy and static, so you giggle, dragging Frank’s mouth back to yours. He makes a pleased sound, “that okay with you sweetheart?” he mumbles.
You push your hips up into him, whimpering from the sensitivity.
“s’whatever Frank wants, remember?” you whisper.
Frank grins, “Damn straight.”
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader smut#Jon Bernthal#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal smut#frank castle x you#frank castle x you smut#frank castle x female! reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x female reader smut#the punisher#the punisher smut
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Hi,
I want to attempt kinktober without placing too hard expectations on myself so hopefully I’ll post everyday but if not, that’s okay!
I will be posting 31 p*rn links for 31 days each with a little prompt.
If you have any requests send them through.
find all my other work here
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Day 1: Matt Murdock + pussy worship
Day 2: Rick Grimes + handcuffs
Day 3: Bucky Barnes + soft sex
Day 4: Daryl Dixon + overstimulation
Day 5: Frank Castle + housewife kink
Day 6: Charlie Weasley + bathroom sex
Day 7: Loki Laufeyson (Odinson) + bondage
Day 8: Sirius Black + face riding
Day 9: Kate Bishop + tit worship
Day 10: Negan Smith + thigh riding
Day 11: George Weasley + caught masturbating
Day 12: Wanda Maximoff + bondage
Day 13: Daryl Dixon + face sitting
Day 14: Natasha Romanoff + phone sex
Day 15: Fred Weasley + begging
Day 16: Eddie Munson + exhibitionism
Day 17: Daryl Dixon + cockwarming
Day 18: Natasha Romanoff + bl00d kink
Day 19: Steve Rogers + rough sex
Day 20: Daryl Dixon + bathtub sex
Day 21: Daryl Dixon & Rick Grimes + threesome
Day 22: Charlie Weasley + throat fucking
Day 23: Matt Murdock + office sex
Day 24: Foggy Nelson + lingerie
Day 25: Bucky Barnes + knife kink
Day 26: Sirius Black + mirror hand job
Day 27: Maggie Rhee & Rosita Espinosa + threesome
Day 28: Peter Parker + fingering
Day 29: Natasha Romanoff + praise kink
Day 30: Foggy Nelson + cockwarming
Day 31: Charlie Weasley + edging
#Matt Murdock x reader smut#Frank castle x reader smut#Steve rogers x reader smut#Sam Wilson x reader smut#Bucky barnes x reader smut#Daryl Dixon x reader smut#Rick grimes x reader smut#Shane Walsh x reader smut#negan smith x reader smut#argyle x reader smut#Eddie Munson x reader smut#steve harrington x reader smut#Remus Lupin x reader smut#Sirius black x reader smut#Fred Weasley x reader smut#George Weasley x reader smut#bill weasley x reader smut#charlie weasley x reader smut#dean winchester x reader smut#sam winchester x reader smut#druig x reader smut#loki x reader smut#Thor odinson x reader smut#Tony stark x reader smut#foggy nelson x reader smut#natasha romanoff x reader smut#wanda maximoff x reader smut#kate bishop x reader smut#pietro maximoff x reader smut#jim hopper x reader smut
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Parings: Frank Castle x Reader
A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this please be nice I can’t take bullying :)
I grip his length in my small hands he’s so thick and long he grabs the back of my head and pulls me up for a kiss, he gently guides me as I lick it with little teasing licks, He groans.
“like a lollipop pretty baby, atta girl there ya’ go”
he says In a deep groggy voice.
The noises that are being made are so dirty, the gagging. It’s music to his ears.
#frank castle x reader#ahhhhh#dirty thots#frank castle#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x you#frank castle oneshot#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader smut
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☁️ - #15 with Frank Castle (👀)
“𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐲𝐞-𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭?”
pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader
warnings: dirty talk, oral (m receiving).
frank masterlist I| main masterlist |I follower celebration I| ask
The flowers lay on the table, still neatly arranged in their brown paper wrap, and the bottle of your favourite wine that Frank had brought back from the store stands guard.
You want to thank him, want to show your appreciation for his thoughtful gifts- but you can’t drag your eyes from him. The rain beating against the window pane had drenched Frank on his way back home, his hair slicked back with the weight of the water it had absorbed. He looks handsome like this, cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold.
Frank smirks to himself, eyes glancing to the ceiling as he shucks off his soaked jacket, neatly tucking it over the radiator he had used to warm his frozen hands.
“Are you going to eye-fuck me all night or are you going to do somethin’ about it?” He sounds smug, glancing over his shoulder at you and arching his brow in question.
You swallow thickly, chest seizing with his straightforward question. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head slightly- that self-satisfied body language only adding further to the need you feel settling between your thighs.
“‘m gonna do something about it,” you insist shyly, stepping away from the kitchen island to approach him.
“Yeah?” He smirks, enjoying your nervous energy as you pad across the floor. “What’cha gonna do?”
It’s his turn to stumble over his words when you slowly sink down to your knees, his eyes following your body to the floor as you reach up to undo his belt. You pull his cock out from his jeans, half-hard already with your sudden seizure of control.
“Oh-“ he mumbles, eyes rolling back as you settle the weight of him on your tongue. “Oh-!”
#frank castle#frank castle oneshot#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle x female! reader#frank castle smut#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you smut#the punisher#the punisher imagine#the punisher smut#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher x y/n#the punisher x you#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal smut#jon bernthal#✩‧₊˚ 6k follower celebration ˚₊‧✩#જ⁀➴ mail: received
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congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖
🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀
nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3
winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock
masterlist
summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?
warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant
THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED
Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.
ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.
It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?
The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.
You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.
Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.
With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.
But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.
“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.
He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.
Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”
You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”
His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.
“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.
He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.
He’s lost for words.
Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.
Then again, maybe you just did.
You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.
You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.
And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.
Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.
You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.
If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’
Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.
You think about them. A lot.
And in more ways than one.
You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.
And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.
The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.
“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.
You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”
He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”
You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.
You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?
“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”
The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”
You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.
“Hey Frank?”
“Yeah?”
You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”
He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”
“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”
A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.
Oh.
You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.
Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.
An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…
And your hands drop from your chest.
All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.
“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”
.
Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.
“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.
He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”
Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”
You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.
“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”
Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”
He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”
A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.
A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”
“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.
“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”
“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”
He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”
“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”
Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”
“Stop me when I get close.”
He grins from ear-to-ear.
“One month?” you ask.
“No.”
You feign surprise. “Three months?”
“Nope.”
Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”
“Longer than that, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.
What about Frank?
What about Frank?
The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.
“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.
“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”
Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”
In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…
So are you.
You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.
“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”
He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.
“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.
.
The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?
You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.
As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.
He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.
He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”
Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?
‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.
“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.
Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”
You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?
You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”
He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”
You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”
Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”
A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…
But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.
Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Still think this is a good idea?
You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.
Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”
You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.
“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.
“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.
“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.
Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”
Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”
Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”
“We needa take this outside, Red?”
The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.
The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”
You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.
“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.
Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.
You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”
Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.
“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”
Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.
Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”
The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.
“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.
You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.
Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”
To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.
Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”
Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”
Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”
“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.
You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.
.
The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.
There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.
A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.
“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.
You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.
“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”
Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”
You purse your lips. “No.”
He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.
“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”
Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”
You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–
You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.
While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.
You’re not in control anymore.
Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…
“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.
“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.
Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.
“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”
You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.
His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”
You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”
“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”
He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.
“Walk with me?”
Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”
A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”
He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”
You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”
.
The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.
Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.
His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.
“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”
He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.
But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.
“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.
“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.
You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.
Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”
Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”
Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”
Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”
You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”
They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.
The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.
.
You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.
Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.
“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”
Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”
He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.
“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.
“Yeah?”
“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.
As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.
His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.
There it is again, that fucking smirk.
“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”
“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.
He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.
You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.
Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.
“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.
You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.
Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”
You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.
Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.
Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.
You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.
But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.
“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.
He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”
“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.
“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.
You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…
Until now.
A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.
Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.
“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”
Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”
The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.
Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”
Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.
Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”
You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”
He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”
Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”
Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.
“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”
“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.
Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”
“For now.”
“Fine, for now.”
You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”
Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.
You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”
“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”
“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”
The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.
Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.
Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.
‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.
You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.
Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.
You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.
As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.
“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.
He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”
You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”
Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”
Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”
Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”
Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”
You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.
“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.
“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”
“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”
“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”
Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”
A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”
Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.
You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.
But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.
Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.
“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.
“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.
“You want my cock?”
“Yes.”
In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.
He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.
Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’
“Did you? Did you just make her –”
“You’re goddamn right I did.”
Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”
The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”
He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.
Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.
He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.
Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.
Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.
“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.
“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”
You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.
“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”
Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.
He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.
“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”
You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.
He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.
“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.
“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.
“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”
“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”
You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.
Something snaps in Matt.
He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…
The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.
And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.
“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.
Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”
You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”
You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”
Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.
“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.
“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.
You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.
“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”
“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”
Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”
He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”
“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”
“S’that a yes?” they say together.
“Yes.”
“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”
Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.
And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”
#matt murdock#matt murdock smut#frank castle#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader smut#the punisher#matt murdock x reader#frank castle x reader#frank castle x matt murdock x reader#frank castle x reader x matt murdock#matt murdock x reader x frank castle#rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil#rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration#rhi writes 💻#x reader
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fictober day eighteen - cockwarming, frank castle x reader
warnings - 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, frank castle x afab!reader, smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very light somno vibes
word count - 579
fictober masterlist - masterlist
twitter - ko-fi
got something to say? a request or concept? speak!!!
a/n - sleepy groaning voice frank can be something so personal
You weren’t sure what confused you more; the fact that you couldn’t get to sleep or that Frank was able to sleep so easily. While you tossed and turned, Frank laid peacefully on his back, mouth open just enough for little snores to escape.
You tried every sleeping position, with and without blankets. What caused Frank to stir was when you rolled completely out of his touch. Your back was to him as he lifted his head, brows furrowed and vision blurry.
With a grunt, he came from behind and wrapped around you tightly. “Baby.” He mumbled into your neck, his lips pressed to your skin. “Hi Frank.” He adjusted, pressing himself further into your skin.
Oh, oh.
“Hey.” He whispered, a hand moving to the front of your waistband. “I need to feel you, sweetheart. Open up.” He tapped your thigh, making you spread yourself.
You weren’t feeling particularly sexy, wearing flannel pants and a shirt with a stretched neckline that used to belong to Frank. He didn’t mind, or maybe he did find it sexy. Either way, his hands were grazing your pants, over your clothed cunt. You wiggled against his palm, listening to him hum against your skin.
He was already hard, you moved your hand around to feel him up. “Easy.” He grunted, wrapping his hand around your wrist. Slowly, he inched your pants down your legs, losing them somewhere in the covers.
His fingers immediately found your cunt, quickly dipping into your heat and making you jump. “Pretty wet down here. Bet I could slip right in.” He spread his fingers inside of you. “What do you think, sweetheart?” Frank continued his assault on your pussy, waiting to hear something slip from your mouth. “Uh huh.”
You waited as he pulled his boxers down, feeling his leaking cock brush against the skin of your ass. Slowly, Frank led himself to your hold and led his way through your folds. The stretch was like heaven, every inch of Frank was almost addicting. He listened to you cry out for him, wanting to cum right then and there just from your whines and the feeling of your walls pulsating around him.
Once he bottomed out, you thought he was giving you time to adjust. But minutes dragged on, so your head swiveled around. Frank’s eyes were shut, his mouth opened just like it had when he was asleep. “Frank.” You wiggled against him, hearing the groan that fell from his lips. His hands held your hips in place. “Watch it. Just stay put, yeah?”
You frowned, trying to wiggle again but his grip kept you in place. “I said watch it. We’re gonna stay like this, let me just feel you.” He heard you grumble to yourself about nothing, taking the moment to press his fingers deeper into your skin. He figured they’d leave bruises, and he knew he’d kiss them away in the morning.
“Tomorrow I’ll fuck you just how you like it, m’kay?” He leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, the lotion you rubbed on after your shower. He loved the scent, always had, he swore he could’ve lived in your skin.
Eventually, you grew accustomed to Frank inside of you. It was calming, like a lullaby soothing you to sleep. Frank’s arms hugged you tighter, his fingers grazing your arm almost methodically. So you sank into the sleep you wanted so badly.
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forget my mercy, take my blame (series masterlist)
Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange, the way one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.
Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no Y/N)
Chapter 1: Waiting on a sunny day
Chapter 2: The unease of being
Chapter 3: Ex-umbrae
Chapter 4: Mercy of the world
Chapter 5: Born to trouble
Chapter 6: The unravelling
Chapter 7: A tale of two mules (September 23rd)
Chapter 8: The very thought of you
Chapter 9: Unofferable
Chapter 10: Afterthoughts
18+ smut, fluff, heated arguments, Frank being your murder husband and you being his murder wife, only one bed trope, daddy issues, protective!Frank and Reader, and so much more! lol what a sales pitch
First chapter dropping today, August 8th! Mark your calendars because I already have four chapters written and hoo boy they are spicy (though not smutty yet! delayed gratification and all that).
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle imagine#the punisher x reader#the punisher x you#frank castle fic#frank castle x reader smut
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How about: showing Frank Castle your new lingerie? It can be fluff, it can be smut, do with it what you please! <3
Spin For Me.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - allusions to sex. cursing.
valentines masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
“Keep your eyes closed, Frank. I’m serious.”
He’s grinning, both hands pressed to his face as proof. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom.
“Come on, baby. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Good things come to those who wait!” you yell through the wood. Frank laughs, shaking his head.
You finally swing open the door, leaning against the frame with a hand on your hip. You take him in for a moment - the smile on his face, his relaxed stance, the way his sweatpants hug his thighs just right. Inhaling deeply, you clear your throat.
“Open ‘em, Frankie.”
Frank blinks in the lamplight, adjusting to the brightness. When his eyes land on you, his breath hitches in his throat. He rakes his gaze all the way down your body and back up again, slow and sticky sweet. His irises darken, lust blooming across his skin.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Goddamn.”
You push yourself off the doorframe, standing up straight.
“Spin f’me.”
“Hmm?”
“Spin for me, baby. Let me see you.”
You twirl around gently, like a ballerina in a music box. When you stop in your place, Frank gestures with his finger for you to spin the other way.
It’s almost voyeuristic, the way he’s devouring you with his stare. You feel like predator and prey, in the moonlight of your bedroom.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”
The lace hugs your body exactly, every dip and curve accentuated. The colour compliments your skin perfectly, and your mind is running a mile a minute wondering what Frank is going to do to you first.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckles. “Yes it is.”
He stands up finally, making his way over to you. You’re waiting for him to twist his fingers into the material and rip, like he usually does. Instead, he runs his fingertips over the lace trim on your chest, gentle and featherlight. He dances his touch down your sides and onto the top of your underwear, playing with the band softly.
“Want you to keep it on,” he murmurs. “Wanna see this lace against your skin when I eat you out.”
You exhale shakily, nodding your head.
“Plus,” he whispers, leaning down to mouth at your ear. “This pretty thing gives me something to hold onto. Better grip when I fuck you into the mattress.”
You drop your head forward onto his chest, bare skin warm against your forehead. You can feel the way his lungs are heaving, just as buzzed on the anticipation as you are.
“You’ve given me a gift, honey. Now let me give you one.”
He drops to his knees in front of you. You’ve never seen anything prettier.
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Red and Ruin [f.c/m.m.]{kd15}
cuckolding/face sitting/toys
couldn't help the funny gif, sorry!
CW: cum eating, spit play, face sitting, teasing, cock rings, orgasm control, smidge of betting, pet names, cuckolding, overall nastiness, mentions of hickeys. m/m/f vibes, maybe matt and frank have a thing? up to you.
If there ever was a time where you pittied Matthew Murdock, it was right now. He was tied to a chair from your dining room table, naked, legs spread and tied apart displaying a beautiful array of lovemarks you’d given him over the last few hour. Worst of all, there was a thick black cock ring wrapped around his intensely swollen cock, vibrating away like it was on a mission.
His head hung low, and you watched each breath rattle in time with each delicious moan that Frank, buried underneath your cunt let loose. Each passing swipe of the Punisher’s tongue was driving your body quickly towards a hazardous release. You let your hands furl into the thick mop of Frank’s hair, holding him by the root, daring him to pull away at such a crucial point.
But, if he was anything, it was lethal. He hollows his cheeks, sucking so harshly on your clit, you’d be afraid of your body giving out as you pant and spasm atop his face.
“Oh god.” Matt’s empty stare is focused on the edge of the bed, only after a moments breath do you notice the quiver in his thighs. “Please, baby let me have you.”
You aren’t given time to answer as Franks swollen and flooded mouth declares for you. “Funny, you think she gets to decide when I’m done with her Red.” His hands move to the curve of your waist, and usher you off his face with a tight grip, settling you onto the soft sheets of your bed. Your ass and cunt on display to Frank, as he removes the belt of his pants striking it across his palms a few times in warning. “What do you think Doll? D’you think I’ve had my fill?”
“No sir.” Your response is curt and polite, hedding the sound of the belt.
“Atta girl.” Castle’s index finger traces over your entrance, gathering slick from the mixture of his spit and your cum before you hear his boots travel across the floor, “Open wide for me Red.” Curiosity overwhelms you, and you glance over your shoulder in just enough time to watch Matt’s mouth fall open as Frank feeds the sinful mixture to him, pushing it down onto his tongue and back far enough to peak a gag.
It’s obscene, it’s perverse, and its downright filthy, but the three of you moan in unison like some sick symphony. Ever twisted cell in your body is aching for both of these men to consume you, and to know that they feel the same, might be the beginning of something that will do you all in.
“That’s a pretty mouth of yours Red, let’s see what it looks like eating my cum out of your girl over there.” Your cheeks heat at the proposal, but damn, if your pussy isn’t clenching at the thought.
#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle smut#frank x matt x reader#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock smut#marvel daredevil#daredevil x female reader#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock fanfiction#human disaster matt murdock#jon bernthal#kinktober 2022
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pain and suffering
summary: to which criminals run from the shadows, and the shadows run home to you.
pairing: frank castle x male reader x matt murdock
word count: 4k
warnings: 18+ warning, unprotected s3x, dom!mattfrank, bottom!reader, double pen3tration, blowj0bs, mentions of violence
a/n: i got this request like a whole month ago and im sorry to anon it took me a while to think of this
masterlist | more matt murdock
gif credit for frank & matt
The night air looms over Hell’s Kitchen. A normal person might hear the honking of cars and the loud chitchat of people in the street, but to a man like Daredevil, he hears everything. He hears Sally from down the street, crying as her husband comes home drunk, or Dominic, stealing another purse to pay for his brother’s medical bills. The city is not just a cluster of sounds for a man like the Devil, it’s a war cry. His city needs help, so he braces for the jump, a leap into the battlefield.
To him, pain and suffering is a saint. The pain of every hit, every jab, and every punch. To Matt Murdock, the pain of getting hit is like lashing for every sin he’s made. He is the fist of God, the guardian angel of the Kitchen, his suffering is the price for the safety of his people. So to him, yes, pain and suffering is the saint that guides him, the adrenaline to jump, to fight, to stand back up and fight again because he knows if he doesn’t, worse men will.
He sits wounded on top of a building, the hanging laundry hiding him from plain sight. He pants, blood gushing from his lower rib. But then he smells it: gunpowder. The sound of clanking metal and rubber boots walking closer to him. He knows that smell, the smell of danger, the smell of bad news, the smell of The Punisher.
“They hit ya’ pretty bad tonight Red,” his rough voice roared across the building. He smells of blood, not his blood, but the blood of at least thirty other men.
“I don’t need your help, Frank,” Matt said, wincing as he tried to stand.
“I doubt that,” he was closer to Matt, he took the rear end of his rifle and pressed it to Matt’s wound, he cried out in pain. “See?”
“I don’t need any help from you.”
“That’s your problem, Red. You’re so self-righteous. You’re out here bleeding yourself to death thinking God sent you here on earth to be his punchin’ bag,'' he puts the rifle down, the metal butt hitting the floor. “You think your God can miraculously heal your wounds? The Devil ain’t no saint.”
“And you’re any better?” Matt spat. “You wear that skull on your chest and you think that gives you the license to be a killer?” he licks his dried-up lips, the wounds weighing on him. “You’re a beast, Frank. A wild creature with no self-control, bloodthirsty, and—and inhumane.”
Frank was right, but Matt’s pride would never take any help from Frank Castle, he’s a murderer, a cold-blooded killer, and men like him have no place roaming the streets of New York. Matt tries to walk away from Frank, he could feel the blood drip into his waist, his head dizzy. Before he could even reach a meter away from Frank he feels the pull of the earth and drops into the cement floor, out cold.
“Dumbass,” Frank spat.
—
To Frank Castle, pain and suffering is a weapon.
Pain is the bullet to the head of a wife beater, a pedophile, a human trafficker, and any other demented fuck that helps in spreading crime in his city. He sniffs in the scent, it’s nauseating, the smell of garbage and piss, the smell of dead bodies piled in a heap for the cops to find. The blood pooled on his boots, painting them red. He reloads the gun, pulling on the lever that locks the bullet in the barrel, ready for the trigger.
“Please, man. I have a wife and two kids,” the bald man begged. His shirt was soaked in blood, a bullet grazed his hip. He walks backward achingly, his back hitting the wall. “Fuck, man I swear I don't know anything ‘bout this! ”the man kneels in front of Frank, his hands together like he’s praying.
Pain is the bullet that ends all suffering.
Bang!
The man falls on the concrete, blood dripping out of his skull. Frank wipes the blood splatter on his face with his sleeve. He takes the pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. He grabs the man’s sleeve and pulls him into the heap. No loose ends.
Frank takes his rifle and leaves. Taking the rooftops so the cops won’t see him. His body is sore, but it was never a hindrance. He sees a red blur across the building. The Devil himself, running from a bunch of men. Frank notices the Devil walking strangely, a hand on his left to cover a bleeding wound.
He takes the sniper rifle and aims it at the four men searching for the masked vigilante. He reloads the rifle, and one by one the men drop dead. The Devil was clueless as to where the bullets came from. He walks over to the wounded man, lumped over the side of a rooftop wincing in pain.
Frank had always admired the Devil’s determination, always standing back up after a fight, the line he wouldn’t cross, it amused Frank in a way. He liked to toy with it, always putting the red vigilante in positions where his moral code is tested.
You know you’re one bad day away from becoming like me.
Frank once told him, and he guessed it wasn’t true. Despite how hard the world hit him, he never crossed that line. That’s why when the Devil ended up face down on the concrete floor he took his body into his shoulder. Carrying his body to the only place he knew would understand the situation. To the person that knew the creed of pain and suffering.
He stands in front of the wooden door, the door was locked. Not his first instinct to knock, because he knew he would always be let in. He knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked louder, banging on the door, the sounds echoing throughout the hallway.
“Jesus Christ, people will hear you,” you said, answering the door.
—
To you, pain and suffering is a curse. The curse that binds people to hospital beds for years, slowly rotting into the sheets as more and more medicine gets pumped into their veins. The curse that brings people into the emergency room, stabbed my knives, with broken knees, amputated fingers, and gunshot wounds through bone and muscle.
You earn money from pain and suffering. Doctor’s fees from people you know can’t even afford it. You always wanted to give them pro-bono, but you weren't loaded like that. That’s why when injured vigilantes were involved, everyone in the New York underground knew your number.
You had known people like Maya Lopez, Misty Knight, Ben Reilly, Ty Johnson, and Tandy Bowen alongside other masked heroes. That’s why when The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived at your door four months ago you didn’t second guess your decision to help him. To you, helping these people would absolve you of being complicit in the suffering of innocent people in the hospital.
“Got your number from Spider-man, hope you don’t mind,” he said, sprawled on your kitchen table covered in blood. His muscular body contracted from the pain as you sewed his wounds shut. You never truly cared about forming connections with your clients, it was more of a get-patched-up-and-leave type of way.
He would often flirt with you whenever he came by, his dimples forming under his mask whenever he smiled or laughed. “Don’t worry Doc’ I’m a big boy,” he said, smiling at you. The smile quickly faded when you dug into his skin to retrieve the bullets on his bicep, a groan leaving his lips. You tried not to think about it, but he's pretty cute.
On one night, a man banged on your door, you rushed to meet a shadow drenched in blood as if it was raining blood from the sky, a white skull on his chest. His hoarse voice groaned as you took him into your kitchen. Multiple bullet wounds, and gashes on his chest, in your personal opinion a person with that many injuries would've ended up on the morgue.
“Did you fall into a meat grinder? What the hell,” you said. You tried your best to patch him up but he needed some blood transfusions.
“Check the bag,” he groaned. Inside were bags of blood from the hospital, all type O, what the fuck.
He stayed in your house for two nights, you checked his vitals every hour to make sure he was still alive. This hasn’t happened before, you’ve never had a client that was on the brink of death. It was always some minor injury, but this man managed to wake up and stand after two days to leave.
You found a bundle of one hundred dollar bills in your mailbox the next day.
—
“Bring him to the couch,” you said. You took Matt’s body as Frank carried his legs, you took his limp body into the sofa, a deep wound on the torso, an easy fix for you at this point. It has been months since you first met the two men in your apartment. You’ve spent multiple nights helping them, in your apartment, or Matt’s, or Frank’s bunker. You were technically associated with them to the point that you know their real names.
“The emergency kit is on the kitchen counter.”
“Got it Doc,” Frank saluted, removing his trench coat and his bulletproof vest, his muscular form bulging through his black shirt. They reeked of blood, you could taste the iron on your tongue.
Matt’s eyes fluttered, his head turning to the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he said, groaning through the pain. You cut his undershirt open, the wound gushing out blood. You took some gauze to soak the viscous liquid, making sure the clotting starts.
“Sit your ass down, Red,” Frank ordered. You managed to sew the wound shut, you gave Matt some pain relievers as his eyes fell back into sleep. You let him rest for a bit, covering him in a fleece blanket. You walked towards Frank, a few cuts on his arms, he was already in the middle of sewing some of them before you helped. “Don’t worry about me, it’s nothin’”
“Make sure you don’t die in my kitchen this time,” you said, walking to the kitchen sink to rinse your bloodied hands. You opened your refrigerator to grab a drink. “Want a beer?”
“Sure,” Frank nods.
You took a cold beer from your fridge, the metal caps clanking on the floor. You handed him the bottle, he took a big swig like he was thirsty for water, some liquid falling from the corner of his lips. He sat on a wooden chair, legs spread, the hem of his shirt raising a bit to show a peak of his abdomen.
Matt soon woke up. Much to your disagreement, taking a beer of his own. He took a seat in your dining area, topless with bandages around his torso. The three of you are looking at each other around the table. “So–what happened tonight?” you asked.
Matt’s frown was deadset. Frank taking gulps of his second bottle of beer. You were taking sips of your bottle, looking at the heated tension between the two. It was annoyingly anxiety-inducing. “You know, I don’t know what’s the point of talking to you two—I’m a physician, not a therapist.”
“You need to stay away from him,” Matt said, his lips a straight line. “He’s a dangerous person with nothing good going on for his pathetic life.”
“Boohoo! Little catholic boy here feels entitled about being god’s little bitch,” Frank spat. “Is that what you think bitch boy?”
“See? He’s an immature old fuck that thinks the world’s answer to violence is guns and bullets,” Matt said, downing his beer.
“He’s just using his lawyer bullshit on you,” Frank said.
You rolled your eyes, it’s always like this, them bickering. You downed the beer, the bitter taste running through your tongue. You set it down with a loud clunk. The two men halted their bickering.
“I’m not taking sides but I think both of you are annoying cry babies that should just kiss and make out!” the two men frowned their brows. “You bicker like an old couple—the two of you need to suck it up because, at the end of the day, the two of you leave a trail of blood in this city that I clean!” you shouted.“You know how many people end up in the emergency room thanks to you two, I don’t even keep count of them anymore.”
Matt called for your name, to apologize or something, but you took another bottle of beer and gulped on the bubbly drink. Instead of talking you took his lips to yours, the bitter taste of his mouth shared with yours. His hands come to your neck, fingers wrapping around the flesh as his tongue meets yours. You smell his clean shampoo mixing with the alcohol, he smelled like a man who took hygiene seriously.
You pull back to walk towards Frank, bending down to kiss him, pressing on his shoulder with your hands to guide you. The bitter taste of both of your mouths intoxicates you. He grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling you in more. He smelled of cheap soap and gunpowder. You pulled away to catch them frozen, feet glued to the floor, aghast.
“See,” you rubbed your hands. “Not hard at all.”
Frank was biting his lip chuckling, his fingers massaging his lip. He pulled you to his lap, kissing you harder, his hands falling to your ass. Your hands run through his dark hair, his stubble pricking your face. You moaned from the contact, Matt’s enhanced senses making the sound echo in his head. He hesitated but his groin turned to the noises you made. Frank’s lips fall to your neck, nibbling on the skin eliciting more lewd noises from you.
“See this red?” he said. “This little slut likes it.”
“Play with his ear, he likes it,” Matt ordered. Frank hadn’t known that.
“He also likes it when I do this,” he pinches your nipples, and you shudder from the slight pain. The two men didn’t know that you had experiences of having sex with them on different occasions. “So you’re a little whore huh, you do this to all of your clients?”
“No—,” you gasped. “Just you two.”
Matt chuckled. Frank had set you on his lap so that you were facing Matt, his hands playing with both of your nipples as he left purple hickeys all over your neck. Matt had knelt in front of you palming your growing erection. The ache in your groin grows from the lack of release. Tonight these men offer you more pain and suffering but in ways that elicit nothing but pleasure.
He takes your trousers off leaving you with nothing but your shirt, finally something to ease the pain. Matt stood to open his pants, his thick cock standing tall, the hairs neatly trimmed. “Take his dick inside your mouth,” Frank whispered, while he stretched your legs open so his fingers could tease your hole. He took his fingers to your mouth making it wet.
Matt’s hands ran through your hair, his tip teasing your swollen lips. As you took his length into your mouth, Frank's finger entered your hole curling inside drawing out muffled sounds from your mouth. You were quickly bent over by Frank, his head in between your ass cheeks licking and fingering your hole, while your head was bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock.
Frank smacked your ass so hard it left a red print as he continued to toy with your rear. Matt groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Frank pulled you back with your hair, popping Matt’s cock out with a string of saliva. It was painful the way they carried you, but in some sick twist of events, it turned you on even more.
“My turn,” Frank said, as he takes your mouth to his sex, you engulf his thick uncut cock, your nose hitting his unkempt hair taking in his scent. Matt bent down to toy with your hole, curling and stretching two fingers inside you stimulating your prostate. You were turning your lips as you sucked on Frank’s cock, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he grabbed onto your hair tightly.
Matt stroked your cock as he moaned, eating you out with his wet tongue and playing with the rim of your hole. Frank took control of your mouth, fucking into it like you’re his sex toy, his cocking hitting the roof of your mouth at a constant speed. Frank could feel his climax coming so he pulls out leaving you a wet mess next to Matt.
“Can I fuck you?” Matt asked. You nod, taking them into your bedroom.
Frank undressed and took a seat on the small sofa chair in the corner of the room, stroking his hard cock. You were on all fours on the bed, facing Frank. His eyes glued to you as he stroked. Matt lubes your hole before slowly pressing his cock into your hole. You gasped as he sheathed into you. Frank smirked, this turned him on even more, his large arms contracting as he stroked his cock.
Matt started to fuck you slowly, his hips slapping your ass. He started to let out guttural moans, his hips becoming rigid as he gripped onto your waist, his nails digging into your skin. He bends down to kiss your neck, rutting into you, his hard thrusts ramming into you. “I’m close,” he moaned. He jerks your cock to the point that you yelp out, cum shooting out of your cock as he continues to jerk his hips before he emptied inside you, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum fills you. You two collapsed on the bed, his body weight on top of you.
“Move over Red,” Frank said, looming over you as Matt moves over before Frank mounts you. Matt’s cum formed a slippery lube that made Frank’s cock ease its way as it thrusts. Your body was still weak from your high. He grabs onto your hair as he ruts into you, continuing his hard pace against your body. “You like that?” he said, stroking your sore cock back to hardness.
“Ye–yes, fuck,” you moaned.
Matt was at the edge of the bed, soothing your hair as he peppered kisses all over your face. The bed creaked as Frank humped you, veins popping across his arms as his grip on you tightened, you’re sure it would leave marks. He pulled out, leaving you to gasp from the sudden lack of fullness. He sits back on the headboard of your bed, legs sprawled as he gestures for you to ride him. You mount yourself on his hardness, sitting on his thick and hairy thighs. Matt sits on the edge of the bed, his erection coming back from the sight of you two.
“Take it like a good boy,” Frank praises. You hold onto his chest as you feel the hardness enter you, some of Matt’s cum leaking out. You take Frank’s lips, you now realize how abrasive his stubble was. You move your hips around and around, Frank lets out curses here and there. He pulls your head back, littering your neck with more marks, his fingers find your nipples, teasing them to draw out more moans from you.
Franks sees Matt on the side, his hard already leaking precum just from watching you take Frank’s cock. He calls for Matt to come to you two, to join back in. You feel Matt’s fingertips on your skin, your body is now so filled with stimulation, his mere touch driving you wild. You feel his erection on your back, his lips attached to your shoulders. He takes his leaking cock and presses into your hole, the size alongside Frank’s was a tight fit, your breathing quickens from all the pressure. The two men made sure to guide you and praise you as you take both of their lengths.
You cry out from the sensation. Frank takes your lips to stifle your cries, tears fall from your eyes as your tongues touch, and Matt inches to join your kiss. The three of you kiss into the pain, The two men slowly moving inside you. The pressure was so intense but the arousal overcame, your sex was so hard, leaking so much into Frank’s abdomen. They start to thrust, Matt could feel his sensitive frenulum rub on Frank’s, it made his eyes roll back, his senses overflowing.
All of you reeked of sex, the sounds of slapping skin and wet tongues fighting for dominance against the grunts and moans. The constant rocking was making the bed hit the wall, the mattress moved as if there were an earthquake. You were all covered in sweat, hair sticking onto skin, Hands gripping the wooden headboard, fingertips roaming skin, and tongues lashing on each other.
Everything felt like a blur to you, you were being rocked back and forth like a playground swing, your core sore from the fucking, and there were pairs of hands all over you touching your most sensitive spots. You could feel the climax, creeping into your body tingling your coccyx to the highest peak of your spine. You felt their erratic thrusts, Frank was a groaning mess under you, his neck all red and his face flushed. Matt was a noisy mess on your ear, cursing and calling your name like a prayer, his arm wrapped around your waist as he fucked.
You were at your peak, arousal overflowed from your body into theirs. Their cum filling into you. You all yelped out in pleasure as you rode your highs. Frank dug his hands into your thighs as Matt hid his forehead on your shoulder, rutting their fill into you. The next few minutes came to you in flashing lights, like fireworks spraying colored lights all over the room.
You woke up the next day to two heavy bodies at your sides. Matt’s arms around your waist with your head resting on Frank’s chest. All of you reeked of sweat and cum. As you turned you saw Matt’s eyes flutter, his long lashes flicking as his golden eyes beamed under the sunlight.
“Sorry about last night,” he whispered.
“Why? I had fun,” you said, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.
“You sure?” he said, as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks.
“Pretty sore but nothing a pain reliever won’t fix,” you said.
“I guess you’re right, making out fixes everything,” Frank said, his voice deeper. He joins you and Matt, pressing kisses all over your shoulders. Matt takes this as a sign to kiss you all over your neck, their hands snaking all over your body. “What’s good for breakfast around here?” Frank said in between kisses.
“There’s a good diner across the street,” Matt said, leaving soothing kisses on the marks they left on your neck. Your body was so sore and painful, but these men made sure to make it up to you. You woke up last night to them cleaning you up, Matt wiping you with a damp cloth and Frank rummaging through your closet to grab something for you to wear. Despite their rough lifestyles, they made sure you were taken care of. Maybe a little less pain and suffering next time though.
“But first,” you said, pulling away from them.” Shower.”
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#matt murdock smut#matt murdock x reader#daredevil smut#daredevil x reader#matt murdock x male reader#daredevil x male reader#matt murdock x male reader smut#daredevil x male reader smut#punisher smut#frank castle x reader#frank castle x male reader#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle x male reader smut#punisher x reader smut
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Meal
(The reader is afab, but gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is any.)
(This is my first time writing smut. Sorry if it's bad.)
(Content Warning: oral, pussy eating, fingering, & overstimulation)
Fuck it’s too much, (Y/N) thought, looking down their body to Frank, as he continued to eat her out.
His tongue was going up and down and side to side, exploring every bit of their pussy and not letting up no matter how much they squirmed and tried to move away. He has warned them couple of times before about how their taste drives him insane, but they didn't believe him, and now they were experiencing what their taste did to him.
“Mmm,” Frank moaned into them, holding their legs open and tightening his hold. He could feel their legs beginning to shake, indicating another oncoming orgasm, and did not want to quit eating. “Keep ‘em open, baby,” he said, mouth barely leaving their pussy.
“Please,...” they said, their voice becoming high-pitched as he began slowly moving his tongue upward toward their clit. “Please, Frank, it’s too much.”
“Too much,” he pulled back, replacing his tongue with a thick finger, slowly inserting it in, and turning it, making (Y/N) let out a whimper at the stretch of it. “How many you’ve had, huh?”
“Thr-Three, Frankie,” they told him, adding the little nickname, hoping to appease him.
“Three? Oh, sweetie that’s not enough for me. I’m not full yet, baby.”
Before (Y/N) could say anything else, Frank pushed another finger in and lowered his head to lick and suck at their clit. “Mmm,” he moaned flicking his tongue and speeding up his fingers, feeling them get more and more wet.
“Frank,” (Y/N) whimpered, feeling the orgasm rush through them without warning. It was stronger than the first three were, almost taking their breath away and causing them to close their eyes, gasping for more air. Frank, hearing them gasp and whimper, moaned again and continued to finger and suck their pussy the whole time, not letting up and wanting his face to be covered in their juices.
Finally catching their breath, they looked back down to Frank and whined, seeing that he wasn't done with them yet. Feeling the tingling of another orgasm coming up, they tried to push his head and wiggle away.
“Frank, please,” they whined, trying to pull their hips away.
“Hey,” Franked grunted, pulling his finger out and swatting (Y/N)’s hand away. “You want me to be full, don’t ya?”
“Mhmm,” they hummed, trying to calm their still shaking legs, but failing.
“Then let me finish my meal, then, baby. Okay?” he put his fingers back in and continued to suck their clit again, moaning at the taste of their juices.
#marvel#mcu#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x black!reader#frank castle x asian!reader#frank castle x latino!reader#frank castle x latina!reader#frank castle x woc!reader#frank castle x poc!reader#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle lemon#the punisher smut#the punisher x reader#black reader#woc!reader#poc!reader
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harlequin - frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you read a very good book, and frank gives you a reminder
warnings: uhm. voyeurism if you squint, p-in-v sex, frank’s dirty fucking mouth, idk man this just fuckin HAPPENED
a/n: @saintmurd0ck and I had a conversation about frank watching you read porn books and then this happened and it had to be hell’s angel so HERE WE ARE
| main masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 |
You’ve had your nose in the book for the past two hours.
Frank’s noticed — of course he has, it’s hard not to — and at first, he found it endearing, how engrossed you were in the novel, the sound of a flipped page reaching his ears every minute or so. You had both knees drawn up to your chest, the book pressed into your thighs, one hand holding the covers flat against your legs while you had the fingers of the other at your mouth, chewing the pad of your thumb, only releasing it long enough to turn your page before slipping it back between your teeth.
“Good book, angel?”
“Uh-huh.”
That was the most response he’d gotten out of you since you’d picked up the thing. Since you’d cracked open the cover, you’d barely said a word, not commenting when he changed the radio station or stopped for coffee. You’d barely nodded when he pressed your drink into your hand, manoeuvring a bit to keep the book open while you sipped and ate one of the donuts he bought.
But now, Frank notices something different.
The coffee and donut are long gone, and you’re still immersed in the book. But now, one leg is lowered, knee bouncing, and as Frank glances over, your other leg joins it, thighs tensing as you press them together. You have the book balanced in one hand now, thumb pressed down to keep the pages open, and he watches as your other hand skims the top of your thigh, the heel of your hand dragging along your leggings before your nails dig in.
Your lip gets caught between your teeth, and it’s only then that Frank notices the cover of the book.
Harlequin Romance.
Frank’s not a fool, and the photo on the cover gives him all the details he needs to figure out just what you’re reading. “Didn’t know you read those kinds of books,” he comments, but you barely seem to register the words, head nodding slightly, but your eyes are still glued to the page.
He waits for a few minutes, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. The hand on your thigh is now pressed between your legs. “Wanna tell me what’s happening on that page?”
You don’t say a word, but shake your head a definite no, chewing your bottom lip so hard Frank’s worried you’re gonna draw blood. He chuckles, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.
It’s a few more miles before he hears the rustling of fabric.
He should have known, should have sensed it, could feel the heat rolling off of you and filling the truck cab. Frank chances another glance in your direction, and his throat goes dry as a desert.
Your leggings around around your ankles, the book dangling from one hand, and the other is shoved down the front of your underwear. He sucks in a breath, nearly swerving off the road when his eyes get stuck on your moving knuckles beneath the fabric. Your head tilts back against the headrest a moment later, chest heaving.
He’s grateful as all hell the road you’re on is basically deserted, that you’re not pulling this shit on a busy highway in the middle of rush hour. “You fuckin’ serious right now?” he asks, hands tensing on the steering wheel. “Book that dirty?”
“Dirty, yes,” you gasp out, the book clattering to the floor of the truck as your hand flies out and lands on his thigh, nails digging into his muscle. He’s half hard already, cock straining against his zipper at the mere sight of you all hot and bothered, and he already knows where this is going. “Not nearly as good as you though, baby.”
“That right?”
“Uh-huh,” you say, your tone higher, voice going all breathy and strung out, just like he likes it.
The next turn that comes up he takes, rolls the truck to a stop along the side of the road. There’s no houses around, nothing but trees and asphalt for miles in all directions, and your head whips to the side as Frank cuts the engine, throwing off his seatbelt and slipping out of the truck. He can feel your heavy gaze tracking him, watching through the windshield as he loops around the truck, heading for the passenger side. He’s undoing his belt as he goes, fumbles for his zipper before reaching for the door handle.
“Frank?” you ask, all innocent now, but your leggings are a puddle on the truck floor, your panties hanging around your ankle, and Frank snatches your foot, ripping the scrap of lace away and shoving it into his back pocket. “What are you doing?”
He grabs your thigh, pulling your legs around the side so they’re hanging off the edge, knocking your knees wide so he can stand between them. You gasp when he curls both hands around your thighs, pulling you to the very edge of the seat and lifting your knees so they hook over his hips.
“Showing you just how good I am, princess.” He leans forward, groaning at the sight of your bare pussy and dragging his tongue through your folds, sucking at your clit for a fraction of a second before he’s pulling back, freeing his cock from his boxers and dragging his tip through your wetness.
You’re fucking soaked, and he can’t help himself, only teasing his length along you once before he’s sinking into your heat. His hands move to your hips, wrapping around and pulling you down on his cock.
“You like those books, huh, angel?” he asks, setting a fast pace, unable to help himself from plowing into you, stifling a groan as you tighten around him. “Does that turn you on? Reading those dirty books?”
Wordlessly, you nod, an incoherent moan passing your lips. You slide both hands up your shirt, groping for your chest, and Frank just watches, rapt.
“Yeah, play with those pretty tits, princess. Nobody fucks you like I can. S’pussy was made for me.”
He can already feel your muscles going taut, back arching off the bench seat as he thrusts harder into you. His gaze alternates between your blissed-out face and your pussy, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, the skin of your thighs glistening with your slick.
“Frank.”
“Yeah?” he grunts, one hand resting on your stomach, splaying across your skin. “So fuckin’ good, huh, baby? You gonna cum for me?”
You nod again, and Frank just watches as your face screws up in pleasure, spine bending until your chest is flush with his, your arms wrapping around his neck as you ride out the wave. He wants to eat the noises that fall out of you, and he knows he’s not gonna last.
Before he can even tell you he’s gonna cum, you’re shoving at his shoulder, making him stumble back a step, cock slipping out of you as he grabs hold of the truck door. Frank barely even knows what’s happening, feels like he’s watching a movie as you scramble down from the truck and sink down, leggings thrown onto the dirt as a cushion. You curl one hand around his hip, the other around the base of his cock, and swallow him down.
“Fuckin’ shit,” Frank grits, gripping the top of the truck cab, palm slamming into the metal so hard the noise echoes through the forest, but he doesn’t care. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, angel.”
You look up at him from where you’re knelt, nails digging into the meat of his ass, and as your gazes meet, he’s a goner. The coil snaps and he spills into your mouth, hips stuttering against your face. You take every twitch, unmoving from your spot, eyes glued to his, wide and blinking and beautiful. It’s a powerful orgasm, one he can feel from the top of his head right down to the soles of his feet, and you are unwavering, taking every drop he has to offer.
A blur of movement, and then he’s sitting in your spot in the truck, watching through half-lidded eyes as you pull your leggings back on, wiping the dirt from your ass and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Grinning, you lean into the truck, pressing a kiss to his lips, fingers under his chin.
“I’ll drive.”
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#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x reader smut#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle smut#frank castle imagine#frank castle au#jon bernthal#the punisher#the punisher smut#my fics#the punisher au#sort of#hell’s angel#harlequin
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