#jon oneshot
Text
Good Girls Get Rewarded
Summary: Frank gets tired of you running your mouth and decides to remind you who's in charge. Smutty antics follow.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader
Word Count: 7.5k (holy shit!!!!)
masterlist // join my taglist
a/n: im not ashamed to admit that this fic is the only thing i thought about for three days straight. please enjoy. it is an absolute smut-fest!
warnings: buckle the fuck up bitches, cursing (obvi), all porn no plot, oral (male & fem receiving), fingering, pet names!!!!!, p in v sex, praise kink, size kink a little??, frank is so mean at first lmfao, lots of teasing, spanking, frank gets called sir a lot lmfao, reader is a brat, physical violence (this does not transfer to the smut!!!), i am probably forgetting so many pls let me know what i need to add!
“How’d you get this number?”
Frank’s familiar rasp was even more apparent over the phone, a tingling revelation that sent a shiver up your spine. He was in a sour mood, and you were itching for a fight. It was the perfect way to end your evening.
“Oh, c’mon, Frankie. You know I can get whatever I want whenever I want.”
“How could I forget you’re such a spoiled princess, huh? The fuck you want, princess?”
He spat the last word at you as if it were an insult. Good. He was angry, too.
“Did I catch you at a bad time? I was just admiring these pretty curtains. They designer?”
Annoyed resolve rang through in Frank’s tone as he replied. “You know I don’t know what you’re talking about. You gonna make me ask?”
“Sure, honey. I think you’ll want to know the answer.”
You smirked, eyes roaming the living room you were currently standing in the middle of. If only Frank could see you now.
He huffed. “What curtains?”
“These blue ones in your living room. Did you pick them out, or was it that Karen Page with her over-eagerness to please you?”
“You leave her the fuck out of this.” He paused, and you smirked at yourself in the mirror as the realization of what you’d said was processed fully by Frank. “You’re in my fuckin’ house? What the hell is wrong with you?”
He was already moving. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the hitches in his breath as he barreled his way across Hell’s Kitchen, you’d know he was coming. Your plan was working. You were ecstatic.
“Cat got your tongue, princess?”
“Clever.” You hummed, running your tongue over your teeth. Since you’d first met Frank, he’d managed to throw a cat pun in your direction during every interaction you’d had. He claimed it was because the newspapers were calling you the Black Cat, but you thought it probably had something to do with the latex suit you wore. He never could keep his eyes off the curve of your hips. “Lazy, but clever, I suppose. I’ll allow it, considering the spontaneity of this phone call.”
“How kind of you.” Frank spat, and you resisted the urge to giggle over the phone. He had to be getting close, now. He’d come bursting through the door at any second. Your muscles were giddy with the thought of finally being challenged.
“You know I love chatting with you, darling, but I’ve got to run. I have a thing. Ta-ta!”
You hung up the phone, placing it on the counter and angling yourself so that you could see the front door. You weren’t exactly sure how angry he’d be that you broke into his house, but you wanted to at least seem like you had the upper hand when he charged through the door. You waited, anticipation building until you could no longer stay still. You began to pace, nervous and giddy at the same time, and of course, if you’d just been a little more patient and quiet, you probably would’ve heard the creak of the window opening behind you.
You didn’t realize Frank Castle was standing directly behind you until you backed into him. Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing exactly who was behind you and how he’d managed to perfectly out-do you in your own plan. The hands around your throat shouldn’t have been a surprise.
“It’s fuckin’ rude to break into people’s houses, princess.”
He pulled your body fully against his, attempting to wrap his arm around your neck from behind to pull you into a chokehold. You were a tricky little kitten, though, and you slipped out of his grasp almost as easily as you’d waltzed through his door earlier. Maybe he let you out. Maybe he was curious about your unprompted visit, too.
“You’re one to talk. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to grab a lady like that?”
He snorted. “Lady? Someone confuse you with someone less bitchy?”
“I’ll have you know, I am perfectly fucking civil to most people.” You assured him, jutting your chin out in defiance.
“We really doing this?” He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. You eyed the movement and shrugged.
“Eat your fuckin’ heart out, honey.”
You both lunged for each other, your leg rising to connect with his stomach before his fist could connect with your face. He sprang back, unharmed but winded, and caught your leg before it could connect with his chest. You were suddenly on your back, having been thrown off balance by Frank, who was pushing most of his weight down on your hips to keep you from thrashing beneath him.
“You’re rusty, kid.” His eyes were bright and fiery, a combination you’d grown accustomed to during these bouts. You brought your forehead to his chin in a headbutt that would’ve knocked anyone else out completely. Frank, unfortunately, was just dazed for a moment, blinking the confusion out of his eyes before you could make much leeway against his ridiculously strong hold on your hips.
You were, however, able to wiggle one of your legs out from underneath him, giving you the perfect opportunity to pull Frank into an armbar.
“You’re old.” You smirked. Old or not, the best thing about fighting Frank was how incredibly resilient he was. No matter who ended up on top at the end of the night, your pent-up energy was always spent.
He resisted the pull into your hold, though the only other direction for him to go was on top of you. Your breath rushed out of you as he landed directly on top of your lungs, your grip on his arm loosening enough for him to roll away from you.
“Real cute, princess. You break into my house, and now you’re trying to what? Hurt me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you coughed and remained on his kitchen floor. He really had landed hard, but you were playing the long game. “Good fucking luck. I’m not an idiot, in case you were wondering. You can stop the act.”
“You sure about that?” You rolled to your feet, pulling your hands into fists and holding them up to block your face. He rolled his eyes again, and even though he looked relaxed - unready, even - he caught your fist before it could connect with his jaw.
“You learn that on TV, princess?”
Your brow furrowed in anger. He was annoyingly good at reading your body language now.
“Actually,” you smiled up at him, face so close to his chest that you could nearly feel his thundering heartbeat, “I learned it from your mom.” You punctuated your insult with a swift knee to Frank’s groin. “I win.”
He hunched forward and you let him fall to his knees on the linoleum flooring. It was a low blow, but you weren’t in the mood to fight fair. He never did, anyway. You pushed yourself onto the counter, watching him breathe through the worst of the pain. You were an asshole, sure, but you weren’t the type to kick a man when he was down.
“You’re a fucking menace.” He grunted, nostrils flaring with anger when he took in your relaxed posture on the counter.
“Oh, please, Frank. It’s not like you fuckin’ use the thing.” You rolled your eyes, flipping your hand through the air in the universal sign for “whatever”.
His gaze shifted from anger to something you couldn’t quite place. You’d seen the look on his face before, but you’d never been able to figure out exactly what he was thinking during those moments. He tilted his head and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on your face. Predator stalking prey. Goosebumps broke out on your skin.
“What was that, princess?” He stalked closer to you, and you were suddenly very aware how cornered you were in this position. To make a hasty escape you’d somehow have to catapult yourself over Frank’s shoulder or burst through what you guessed was a solid block of drywall beside you.
You swallowed thickly. “I said, it’s not like you use the thing.”
Frank’s eyes were bright with delight. Coupled with the teasing smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head, you were a little frightened.
“And you’d know that, how?” He taunted, stepping closer to you. He was in your space now, close enough to touch.
“I know a lot of things, Frankie.” You desperately grasped at the semblance of control you had left. “I know where you live, I know what you order every morning from that diner around the corner, and I know for sure that you. Don’t. Fuck.”
“Oh yeah?” Frank was leaning on the counter now, hands pressed into the granite on either side of your hips. “You think I can’t handle myself in bed, princess? Wanna try it out for yourself?”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
You didn’t know why you’d said it, or where it came from. Frank Castle was not the man to play games with, especially not these types of games. In actuality, you had no idea who the man was fucking or how often it was happening. You hadn’t expected him to rise to the challenge when you’d teased him about it.
“Is that right, princess?” His eyes gleamed with desire, and you finally realized what the look on his face meant. “Wanna bet?”
He pressed himself fully against you, the hardness of him apparent through his jeans. Your breath hitched against the column of your throat, and you swallowed thickly. You couldn’t deny the steady pounding between your legs, and you slightly widened your legs to allow him more room.
“Yes or no, princess? Wanna learn a thing or two?” His lips ghosted over yours, tongue darting out to lightly lick your top lip in a teasing, playful motion.
Your expectations for the night had been drastically different than this. You’d planned on a physical fight, maybe a black eye or two, and a slew of insults that you’d giggle about until you saw him again. You had not been expecting…this. Whatever this is. They probably existed, but you couldn’t think of a single reason why this might be a bad idea, so you leaned into the feeling that had been steadily growing in your core, and slammed your lips against his.
He groaned, immediately plunging his tongue into your mouth in a desperate, aching kiss. Your teeth clashed against his, but neither of you seemed to notice.
“Fuck, princess.” He mumbled against your lips, angling your chin so that he could pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your throat. You panted, pawing at his shoulders as he nipped the sensitive skin below your ear. “You gonna be good for me?”
“I’m not good for anyone.” You tried and failed to sound feisty. Instead, it came out in a mixture of a whine and a moan.
“You can be good for me, kitten. I won’t tell anyone.” His hands ghosted over the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He didn’t lift it up yet, and he probably wouldn’t, you realized, until you offered him some kind of consent.
“Only if you ask nicely.” You teased, brushing your lips over his jaw.
He snorted. “That ain’t happenin’.”
A feline grin made its way across your face. “I know.”
He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he leaned in close and whispered, “You’re going to be good for me, you fucking brat. Don’t make me say it again.”
Warm delight flooded your stomach, and even though it went against what you believed in, you nodded. You couldn’t think of a single thing you would rather be doing.
“Good girls get rewarded, kitten.” He adjusted his grip on your jaw, sliding his fingers further down your neck. He toyed with the hem of your shirt again, tugging it slightly so that you arched into his chest. “Can I take this off, sweet girl, hmm?” He hummed, running his tongue across your bottom lip.
You nodded again, and the hand around your neck flexed with displeasure.
“I kiss you for thirty seconds and your big mouth suddenly knows how to shut up?” He pinched your hip, eliciting a yelp from your unassuming mouth.
“Fuck yo-”
“Careful.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. “Use your words, kitten. I know you know how to be sweet. Be sweet to me.” His lips ghosted over yours, breath fanning across your flushed cheeks. “Can. I. Take. This. Off?” He punctuated each word with a slight squeeze of his hand, still wrapped around your throat.
“Yes.” You breathed, dipping your chin in a single nod.
“Yes…?” He cooed, close enough for you to see the amusement glittering in his eyes. The fucker was enjoying this entirely too much. Still, your core hadn’t stopped pounding since he’d cornered you, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t incredibly turned on by this, by him. You gave in to his question, as much as it hurt your stubborn heart to do so.
“Yes, sir.” You clenched your teeth around the word ‘sir’.
“See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”
“Or should I call you master? Or daddy? Or maybe punisher? You gonna punish me, dadd-”
His hand clamped over your mouth, cutting you off before you could continue.
“Shut the fuck up. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re such a fucking brat.” He pulled your hips flush against his, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan making its way up your throat. He leaned in, centimeters away from your lips as he whispered, “You want to be punished, kitten, hmm? I can do that.”
You were suddenly pulled off the counter and roughly thrown over Frank’s shoulder. The swiftness in his movements made you yelp, anger coursing through your blood at his man-handling.
“Fuck you, Frank.” You gritted your teeth.
His only response was a swift slap to your backside, which was nestled directly over his shoulder.
“You can’t just throw me around like a doll!” You protested, though you did nothing to try and wiggle your way out of his grasp. The man-handling was making you a little hot and bothered, but you wouldn’t be admitting that anytime soon.
“Oh yeah? Watch me.” He grunted as he threw you down on his bed, grasping your legs and pulling you down the mattress until he was towering over you again. He brushed your hair out of your face, a gentle gesture that juxtaposed the usual ferocity of your meetings. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, and before you could think twice about it, you opened your mouth and began sucking on it. A grunt, a smirk, the subtle desire lurking behind his intense gaze - all of it was incredibly sensual. “Should’ve known the sweetness wouldn’t last. You’re a brat, through and through, kitten.” You replaced the sweet caress of your tongue around his finger with your teeth, softly biting down on the tip of his thumb in response.
“I like it though.” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than to you. His gaze coasted down your body, catching on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your hips. He looked back at you, having come to a silent decision. “I’m gonna give you another chance, kitten. Does that sound okay, baby, hmm? I want to make you feel good, alright? All you have to do is be good. That’s it. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?”
You blinked up at him, his frame so wide above you that it was almost sinful.
“I can be good for you.” You responded slowly, relinquishing your hold on his thumb. He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you quickly added, “I can be good for you, sir.”
His cheeks widened into a smirk.
“You’re already doing so well, sweetheart.” He praised, running his hands along your sides until they met the bottom of your shirt. You arched into him as he pulled the fabric over your head, relishing the gentleness of his touch while simultaneously missing the roughness from before.
He slid the tip of his tongue from your navel to the valley between your breasts, tugging on the thin material of your bra with his teeth. His breath fanned across your chest, bringing a renewed sense of urgency to your aching core.
“Frank.” You whined, pawing at his shoulders and attempting to pull him fully against you. He barely budged, instead choosing to narrow his focus onto your pebbled nipples.
“What is it, kitten, hmm?” He pressed a soft kiss to your nipple. It was through your bra, but it might as well have been to your bare breast, because the rippling heat that washed through your body elicited a breathy moan from your throat.
“I need- I mean, I want- Can you-” The warmth from his mouth around your nipple was scrambling your brain, and you couldn’t begin to function as his fingers began sliding your pants down your legs.
“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” He was teasing you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stay silent about it.
“Quit teasing me.” You whined, and his hands halted midway down your thighs.
“You think you have any control over this right now?” He chuckled, yanking your pants down your legs in one swift motion. “I haven’t forgotten how bratty you were earlier. You keep this up and you’ll be lucky if I let you come at all, sweetheart, and it’d do you good to remember that.”
Desire sparked deep in your core at his tone, and a devilish smile made its way to your face. He eyed you warily.
“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking about doing.” He warned, returning his attention to your breasts. “Behave. Can you do that for me?”
“Can you?”
The words were out before you could stop yourself. It was just so easy to talk back to him. He brought his teeth down around your nipple, biting hard enough to bruise.
“Brat.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed completely. You whined at the loss of contact, but it quickly turned into a moan when Frank’s rough hands flipped you onto your stomach and slapped your ass hard enough to leave a mark.
“You’ll learn to be good.” One hand held your squirming form beneath him while the other came down in another harsh slap. “I’ll fuckin’ teach you if I have to.”
You moaned, louder and louder with every slap. Sure, you were a menace to the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and, likely, Frank Castle, but you never knew being bad could feel this good. Frank hoisted you up against him, roughly pressing your back into his chest.
“You’ll submit.” He whispered, nipping at the exposed skin on your neck. “I’ll make you. I dare you to try and stop me.”
He shoved you off of him, pulling his shirt over his head as you flopped down on the mattress. You tried to crawl further up the bed, but his hand clamped around your ankle and tugged you onto your stomach again. The position gave him a perfect view of your clothed cunt, which was thoroughly soaked in its current state.
“This underwear is pretty, baby.” He mumbled, running his fingers over the damp cotton. You squirmed beneath his touch, moaning as his fingers brushed against the part of you that needed him the most. “You wear these just for me?”
“Yes, sir.” You breathed, arching your back even more to give him a better view.
“Turn over, baby.” He instructed, gently prodding at your hips. You flipped over, splaying yourself out beneath his standing form, panting. “You’re good when you want something, aren’t you?”
“Who says I want something?”
Jesus. Christ. You really couldn’t help yourself. You sighed in disbelief at your own attitude. At this rate, he’d never let you come.
“Watch it.” He brought his hand down, slapping your clothed cunt in warning. You felt yourself clench around nothing, dying to be touched by him again. “You look delicious like this, kitten. I’m dying for a taste.”
His eyes flicked up to yours in question. Even after everything, he still wanted your consent before he crossed the next line. You nodded, and then winced as his eyebrows shot into his hairline and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap, connecting with your pussy again. “Words.”
“Yes. Yes, please, sir. Please taste me.” You corrected yourself, widening your legs.
“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” He sank to his knees, grinning. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, which surely would’ve gotten you another punishment, and tried to relax against the mattress.
“Look how pretty you are when you’re behaving.” He hummed, breath fanning over the soaked fabric. You whined as your pussy fluttered at his praise. He pressed a soft kiss to your mound, still refusing to remove the fabric simply because he knew it was driving you crazy. “You like it when I compliment you, kitten? Look at how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you.”
“Yes, sir.” You breathed, swallowing hard. You were so turned on it was starting to hurt, but you knew if you complained he would stretch the process out even further. Instead, you leaned into the praise and hoped he’d give in soon. “I’m being good, right, sir?” You asked, legs trembling with anticipation. He kissed your mound again, eliciting a groan from deep within you.
“Yes, kitten.” He smiled against your pussy. “And good girls get rewarded. Right, baby? Hmm?”
You moaned loudly as he hummed against your wet core. “Yes! Yes, please.” You nearly screamed out.
And finally, finally, he pulled your panties down your legs, discarding them in his back pocket. He briefly sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, taking in the sight before him. You were glistening with wetness - so turned on from his words alone that you could quench his thirst for a year with the amount of arousal leaking from your cunt. He grunted, slowly remembering the game he was supposed to be playing with you.
And you tensed, noticing all of this. You may not know a lot about a lot of things, but you knew Frank Castle, and you knew how to read him. You knew exactly what he’d been thinking. For a second, you had forgotten that this was all one giant game to him. He didn’t miss the way your demeanor changed. His eyes slid to yours in question.
“What is it, honey?” He asked, voice still dripping with lust but also with genuine concern.
“I just-” You struggled to find the words, and then tried to sweep the entire interaction under the rug. You wanted his tongue on you, now. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Lying ain’t something good girls do.” He arched an eyebrow at you. You whined, pressing your head into the mattress.
“Is this a one time thing for you?” You asked, refusing to meet his eyes as you did so. It would be pretty embarrassing to be sent home in your current state - needy and wet - but not the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You would not torture yourself by watching his eyes go from lusty to their usual cold demeanor.
“What do you mean?” He asked, running his thumbs over your hip bones.
“I mean,” you huffed, sitting up on your elbows and forcing yourself to look at him, “Will you call me after this?”
Frank’s face morphed into an understanding smirk. “Are you asking me to?”
You glared at him. He pinched your sides again. You rolled your eyes. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll call.” He said, and then his tongue was swiping through your folds, and you couldn’t do anything but flop back onto the mattress again and groan.
He lapped up the arousal that had been leaking out of you since he’d arrived earlier before focusing his efforts on your clit. His tongue drew figure-eights around your clit, sending shocking waves of pleasure through your body, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you were sure you’d died and gone to heaven.
“Fuck, princess, you’re so pretty.” Frank mumbled against your clit, sending a new spark of pleasure through you. “It pisses me off how pretty you are.”
“Please don’t stop.” You begged, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his head. His hand, which had been trailing closer and closer to your entrance, finally found its home, buried deep in your pussy. He pumped two fingers in and out of you, all the while sucking on your clit and going back and forth between praising and degrading you. You weren’t sure which direction was up.
“You just show up looking like a fucking goddess,” he punctuated the word with a harsh suck to your clit, “and expect me not to fuck you, princess? You’re begging to be fucked in those tight pants.”
He pumped his fingers faster and harder, sucking at your clit with more ferocity than you thought he was capable of. You were sobbing now, so close to the edge that you couldn’t stop the tears flowing down your temples and onto the comforter beneath you.
“You’re such a fucking brat sometimes, fuck.” He grunted. “But you’re so god damn pretty when you misbehave. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”
“Frankie.” You sobbed, moaning as he sucked on your clit again.
“You wanna come, baby, hmm?” He cooed. “Only good girls get to come, kitten. You think you’ve earned it?”
“Yes! Yes, sir!” You practically screamed it, your entire body shaking with anticipation of your release. “Please let me come, sir.”
“Well, when you ask so nicely, honey.” He shrugged before attacking your clit with his tongue again.
You erupted beneath him, coming so hard your vision blacked out. You could vaguely feel Frank holding your hips in place, but your body was mostly one spark of pleasure after another. Your heart thundered in your chest, mimicking the pounding in your core. Frank squeezed your thighs hard enough to bruise, lapping up every drop of your release, but you were so far gone you barely registered it.
You eventually returned to your body - sweaty, panting, and thoroughly taken care of. Frank was smirking, pressing soft kisses into your skin.
“See what happens when you’re not a brat?” He teased, kissing the valley between your breasts. “Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been so good for me, kitten.”
“What’s my reward?” You gasped, still a bit hazy from your orgasm.
“What do you want it to be?” He nipped at your jaw, trading between soft kisses and little bites that were sure to leave marks.
“I want to-”
His phone began ringing in his pocket, a sharp and alarming ring that startled both of you out of your hazes. He reached into his pocket and cringed when he saw who it was.
“Who is it?” You asked, curious.
He flipped the phone around for you to see, and you immediately tensed up. Motherfucking Karen Page was calling Frank, and he looked like he wanted to answer it. Your haze was gone now - long gone - and you suddenly felt like crying.
“Answer it.” You taunted, though you thought you might really start to cry if he did.
“I don’t think I’m going to.” He responded, watching you carefully.
“No, really,” you said, attempting to sit up, “She might need saving, again.”
It was a low blow, and you both knew it. It wasn’t Karen’s fault that she wasn’t skilled in hand-t0-hand combat. There was a pattern, though, and no matter how many times she got herself into trouble, Frank and/or Matt were always there to save her.
“Watch your mouth.” He blocked your attempt to sit up, shifting his weight so that he was fully hovering over you. He silenced his phone and slid it into his pocket. “You’re being a brat again.”
Hot, shameful tears welled in your eyes.
“I’m not trying to be one. This is my personality.”
“Crying after the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had?”
“No.” You mumbled, though you couldn’t stop the sneaking smile from forming on your face.
“You’re pretty when you smile.” He said, peppering kisses along your jaw.
“Careful, Frank.” You murmured. “It almost sounds like you care.”
He nipped at your neck, an already sensitive area, and you groaned against him.
“I do.” He said genuinely, pulling back to make eye contact with you. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now, princess. You’re about to be so cockdrunk that you won’t be able to see straight for a week.” Your pussy clenched as he grinded against you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your stomach for what felt like the millionth time that night.
“What about my reward?” You hummed, wiping stray tears away. “I still get that, right?”
“How could I forget?” He mumbled, nipping at the marked skin around your breasts. “Princess wants her reward. What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I want to suck your cock.” You said, straight-faced and innocent, blinking up at him with such softness that he looked on the verge of tears. “Sorry.” You mumbled, correcting yourself before he could, “I want to suck your cock, sir.”
“You’re a fucking angel.” He grunted, pushing himself off the bed and into a standing position again. You followed, reaching for his jeans. He grabbed your hands, briefly stopping them from tearing his jeans off.
“Are you sure you want this, princess? A reward is supposed to be about you.”
You sort of liked the way he called you princess now. Before, when it had been fist fights and anger, it sounded like an insult. But now, the gentle cadence he said it with made your heart clench in your chest.
“I want to.” You nodded, and smiled up at him. “Can I, please?”
He undid his belt with one hand, bringing the other up to cradle your jaw. His hand was massive on your face and neck, a reminder of how insanely large the man standing in front of you was.
“When you look at me like that,” he started, biting his lower lip and slightly shaking his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “I forget how fucking bratty you are. I just want to corrupt the innocent little smile of yours.”
“I come pre-corrupted.” You grinned, the feline smile returning to your face as you looked up at him. “But you’re more than welcome to try.”
You tugged at his boxers, revealing his achingly hard cock. Sucking in a breath, you tried to imagine all of it fitting inside you as he stepped out of the boxers. Your mouth watered when he stroked himself a few times, smearing the precum across the tip of his dick.
“You realize I can’t let another man touch you after this, right?” He asked, eyeing the way your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He shrugged. “You’ll never want another man, anyways.”
“You sound so sure of that.” You murmured, not fully comprehending the words coming out of your mouth. You flicked your eyes up, briefly meeting his gaze before returning to the matter at hand.
“That sort of sounds like that attitude that keeps getting you in trouble, princess.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You quickly rewound the conversation, blinking out of your cock-drunk haze.
“No. No, sir.” You shook your head, desperate to get your mouth on him. “Can I? Please?”
“That’s what I thought, baby.” He murmured, tucking your hair behind your ears. His hands traveled around your head, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the base of your neck. You slid off the end of the bed, sinking to your knees in front of him. “Go ahead, sweet girl.”
You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and kissed the tip. He let out a slow breath as you grew bolder with your mouth. His salty pre-cum smeared across your lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging your tongue through it. He groaned, tightening his hold on your hair.
“I want you to fuck my throat, sir.” You murmured, looking up at him.
“You keep looking at me like that, I ain’t fuckin’ anything. Those fuckin’ eyes of yours are gonna be the death of me.”
“Didn’t realize you were so quick to-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned, arching an eyebrow at you. You grinned, stifling a giggle before wrapping your lips around him again. You pushed your head further and further down his cock, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as you went. When your nose brushed against his pubic bone, he let out a stunted moan, slightly thrusting into your throat.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bobbed your head up and down with more fervor, begging him to fuck your mouth harder and faster.
“You look, fuck-” He couldn’t stop himself from groaning, which spurred your movements on even more. “You look fucking amazing like this, princess.”
You hummed with acknowledgment, hoping it was enough for him to keep thrusting into your throat. Tears freely streamed down your cheeks, surely smudging the eye makeup you’d put on before you left your apartment earlier that night, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank Castle was sliding his dick down your throat, and you were so turned on you could probably come just thinking about it.
Frank suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting your lips to him as he panted. “‘m gonna come if you keep doing that.” He explained when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows.
“Want it.” You breathed, reaching for him again. He instead pulled you to your feet in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Another time, princess. The first time you make me come, I want it to be in your sweet little pussy.” He winked. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed how good you’re being.”
He pulled you into a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. You groaned at both the praise and the intensity in which he kissed you. Both set your insides on fire. He led you backwards until your legs hit the bed, and you couldn't help but nip at his bottom lip when he tried to pull his head back.
“Good girls don’t do that.” He smirked, pushing you lightly so that you’d flop onto the bed again. He ran a hand over your cheek, smudging your makeup even more before running two fingers along your bottom lip. You caught on, slowly wrapping your lips around his fingers and lightly sucking. “You’re not good, though, are you, princess?”
You shook your head. His eyes had darkened again, sending a familiar pounding to your core. Your legs trembled as he began to inch his fingers in and out of your mouth.
“You can be.” His voice had lowered considerably, barely above a raspy whisper. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, princess. I won’t tell anyone.”
You whimpered, sliding your tongue around his fingers. Your skin was on fire, and the longer he stood there staring at you with those lusty eyes, the wetter you became.
“Can I fuck you now, princess?” He asked, transfixed on the fingers he was sliding in and out of your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and let me ruin you?”
He pulled his fingers from between your lips, gripping your jaw tightly. He watched you, waiting for a response. You almost nodded, making the same mistake you’d made countless times already, but caught yourself at the last second.
“Yes.” You said, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”
“Lay back, princess. I’ll take good care of you.”
You laid back and widened your legs for him, noticing the twinkle in his eyes as you complied with his demand. If you were in your right mind, you might’ve said something witty or bratty to him about it, but he was towering over you, cock hard and ready to fuck you into oblivion, and you wanted him so badly. You groaned when he began running his fingers through your slick folds, already trembling.
“This all for me?” He asked, circling your clit once, twice.
You nodded, forgetting yourself for a moment, and yelped when his hand smacked your bare pussy. It didn’t hurt. In fact, you felt your pussy spasm in response, but you’d been so lost in how great his touch felt that you hadn’t realized you’d broken a rule.
“This all for me?” He asked again, rubbing your clit roughly with the heel of his hand.
“Yes! Yes, sir!” You whimpered, legs trembling when you felt the heavy weight of his cock resting on your pussy. He used it to slap the slickness a few times, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.
“Who does this belong to, baby? Whose sweet pussy is this?” He asked, smacking your pussy with his cock again.
You froze, knowing the answer he was looking for, but wondering if you wanted to lower yourself to that level. It was vulnerable to give yourself over to Frank this way, but it also wasn’t as terrifying as you thought it would be.
“Say it.” He encouraged, sliding his cock through your slick folds. “Submit, princess. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Is that a promise?” You taunted, trying not to groan at the friction against your clit.
“Quit being a fucking brat.” He grunted, lining himself up with your entrance. “Say it.”
“Yours. It’s yours, sir.” You whispered, and he buried himself deep inside you.
All the gentleness you’d experienced leading up to that moment was gone, and you couldn’t do anything but cling to Frank’s shoulders as he obliterated you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, sweetheart.” He hovered over you, kissing, sucking, and nipping at every inch of skin he could reach. He was marking you everywhere - you didn’t miss the implications of that - and barreling into you over and over again.
“Say it again, baby.” He whimpered in your ear, the closest you’d ever come to hearing Frank beg. “Who does this sweet pussy belong to?”
“You, sir. It’s all yours.” You replied instantly, whining as he angled himself and pistoned deeper into you. You could barely think straight, only aware of where your skin ended and Frank’s began. “Fuck, Frank. Sir. I’m fu-” You panted, whimpering, “I’m close. ‘m gonna-”
“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” He murmured, ghosting his lips over your jaw as he pressed kisses to and nipped at your throat. “Cock drunk and needy. You’re so fucking pretty.”
“Sir, can I-” You shuttered when you felt his hand on your clit again, teasing it with rough, slow circles. “Oh, fuck.”
“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, baby.” He grinned, skimming his teeth along your jawline. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He punctuated the word ‘crazy’ with a deep thrust, pressing against the spongy spot deep inside you that would send you reeling. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you trembled around him. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a sight he never wanted to stop seeing.
“You wanna come, princess?” He cooed, biting the sensitive skin on your throat and kissing the sting away.
“Please.” You gasped. It was the only thing you were capable of saying. You barely registered that you’d forgotten to call him sir, but he was so transfixed with the sounds you were making that he didn’t mention it.
“Princess gets what princess wants.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady as he pistoned into you at an indescribable pace. You fell apart beneath him for the second time that night, arching and panting and whining as you fluttered around him. He attacked your throat, jaw, and lips with kisses, licking and nipping at your skin.
“That’s it, baby.” He talked you through the overwhelming pleasure, holding you tightly against his chest as he continued to thrust into you. “You were such a good girl, honey. You did so good.”
You whined, fluttering around him at the praise. “I want another reward.”
In any other circumstance, your demand would’ve pissed Frank off, but you just looked so pretty underneath him. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, eyebrows raising. Amusement rang in his tone, and it emboldened you to keep speaking.
“Yeah.” You gulped, still shaking from your orgasm. “I already know what I want.”
“You’re sounding more and more like the brat I just fucked silly.” He said, gently thrusting into you. “Spit it out, baby. What do you want?”
You swallowed, smiling a little. “I want you to fill me up, sir.”
He paused, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and huffing a laugh. His warm breath sent goosebumps skittering across your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, kissing you sweetly.
“I was good, wasn’t I?” You feigned innocence, knowing it would send him closer to his relief. “And good girls get rewarded?”
“Yeah, baby.” He nodded, picking up the pace of his thrusts again. “Good girls get rewarded, and you were the best girl, baby.” He leaned into your hold, lips ghosting over the crest of your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna fill you up, baby, and you’re going to walk around dripping into your pretty little panties all day tomorrow.”
You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him, and whimpered when he began thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You arched into him, nipping at his throat hard enough to leave a mark. “You’re perfect, baby.” He breathed. “Even when you’re being a brat. Wouldn’t have you any other way.”
His thrusts grew sloppier, his breaths coming in short, stunted grunts as he finally let himself go. His heart thundered in his chest, and you clung to him, kissing across the broad expanse of his body until he nearly fell on top of you in trembles.
You cradled his head against your chest, breathing in unison with him. At some point, his arms had wound around you, which meant you were now wrapped in each other’s arms, limbs tangled together as both of you came down from your highs.
“Holy shit.” Frank said, chuckling. “That is not what I was expecting when you called.”
“You gonna kick me out now?” You asked, half-joking. He tensed against you, lifting his eyes to meet yours.
“Don’t be a brat.” He nipped at your skin. “I’m not kicking you out, unless you want to leave.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Of course I want you to stay. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman, kitten.”
You scoffed, though you could feel yourself hiding a smile. “Whoever told you that clearly hasn’t heard you in the bedroom.”
He scoffed in mock-offense. “Are you saying you didn’t have a perfectly nice time just now?”
“I did.” You grinned. “I’m…sorry I said you weren’t good in the sack.”
He looked up, stunned. “Did the Black Cat just apologize? To me?”
You rolled your eyes, huffing. “Yeah, but no one would believe you if you told them.”
“I’m not sure that’s enough, princess.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think you need to admit to me that I’m incredible in bed and that you were wrong.” He was grinning so wide you had to resist the urge to punch him in his stupid, handsome mouth.
“I’m not doing that.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.
“Do it.” He murmured, nodding.
“I refuse.”
“Please?”
“Absolutely not.”
You were both grinning at each other now.
“You’re such a brat.” He said.
“That’s what got us into this mess.” You countered.
“Just say it, princess. For me?” He pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“Fine.” You gave in, rolling your eyes. “Frank Castle, you’re a sex God!”
He chuckled, pulling you tightly into his chest.
“Good girl.” He praised, kissing you softly.
“Do I get a reward?” You arched an eyebrow at him, smirking.
He smirked back, eyes glinting with mischief.
“Oh yeah, princess. Good girls get rewarded, remember?”
Tag List:
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#frank castle x reader#frank castle#frank castle x you#frank castle fluff#frank castle smut#frank castle imagine#frank castle angst#the punisher#the punisher fluff#the punisher angst#the punisher smut#the punisher imagine#marvel#jon bernthal#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle oneshot#frank castle fic#nmcu#amhrosina
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Thinking about Jon’s time with the Circus again. Thinking about what a month spent in a refrigerated warehouse would do (because it would have to be refrigerated, wouldn’t it? it’s meant to store waxworks), just how cold his skin would be. Do you think it even still felt like his skin? Do you think his fingers brushed the skin of his arm and felt only the inhuman chill of wax, and his arm received the touch of his hand and felt only the dead press of plastic?
Thinking about how thoroughly his time with the Stranger would have made him a stranger to himself.
#i’ve been meaning to put this detail into a fic for ages but i can’t quite fit in in anywhere#i’m considering making a dedicated oneshot just to exploring jon’s relationship with his skin post-kidnapping#but i already have a couple post-kidnapping fics and i’m working on another one and i don’t want to become like. the kidnapping guy#I feel like four fics about it would be too many#so for now i’m just throwing it onto tumblr#tma#the magnus archives#tma season three#tma meta#jonathan sims#nikola orsinov#tma the stranger#circus of the other#mag 101
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domestic frank seeing his girl after she’s just come back from a girls night out and she’s a little tipsy and giggly rambling about how much she loves him and how happy she is with him whilst he’s trying to help her get ready for bed :’)
screaming and crying and throwing up, im so glad someone else had these thoughts <3 lots of sweet frankie under the cut!!!!
You weren’t sure who called him or when he showed up, but god he smelled good. He big, strong arms supporting about ninety percent of your weight as he walked the two of you from the car and into the house.
“Frankie!! You smell so good.” Your words were soon followed by a hiccup and some other things neither of you could quite understand.
“C’mon baby, in the house.” Is all he responded, lifting you up the stairs of the porch and avoiding any falling that may have occurred if he let you climb them yourself.
He took your purse and any other accessory he could find and set it on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and a small snack to help counter, what he was sure was, an empty stomach.
“Missed you so much.” You slurred, clumsily taking off your shoes and smiling up at him proudly when you didn’t fall in the process.
“I missed you too, come drink this water for me, okay?” Frank motioned for you to come over, the space between you and the island counter wasn’t that far so he trusted you enough to make it over there.
“M’kay.”
He stood there and watched you drink the entire glass and eat the entire snack he set out, making sure you swallowed it all and didn’t choke, he felt like a father. He loved you too much to risk you choking on a fucking cracker because you forgot how to swallow, in your inebriated state.
When he had gotten the phone call from you about how much you loved him and how glad you were to have him, he knew it was time to pick you up. He knew how much you loved girls night but at some point, your old man, had enough and wanted you back.
“Let’s go get changed for bed, you need to take your meds too.” He grabbed your hand softly and led you to the bedroom, yet again supporting most of your weight but he didn’t mind.
“Can we have sex?” You blurted out, slapping your hand over your mouth and bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”
He smiled softly at you and sat you down on the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead before changing you into your pajamas for the night. He disappears momentarily before coming back with a paper cup of water and your nightly meds, taking the cup away once you had taken the meds.
“C’mere funny girl, let’s rest.” He climbed into the bed and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm softly as a way to coax you into sleeping.
#asks 🫶🏼#he definitely is so patient with hungover reader#frank castle#jon bernthal#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#the punisher#frank castle smut#frank castle fluff#frank castle fic#frank castle oneshot#frank castle headcanons#frank castle imagine#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher fic#the punisher smut#the punisher fanfiction#jon bernthal x you#jon bernthal fluff#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal imagine#jon bernthal smut
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I’m obsessedddd with the idea of sub!frank. Like that man was a soldier and he follows karen like a lost puppy. Maybe not all the time, but yk that man likes to be told what to do
Submissive Solider
Warnings: smut, talks of sex.
Parings: Frank Castle x Reader
A/N: This is more of a thought/blurb? Omg I’m sorry I got carried away, this man just does things to me. Also does anyone know how you get one of these thin border/divider things, i’ve been looking for one in pink and I just can’t find one. ⬇️ 😭
This man absolutely follows his partner around like a lost puppy everywhere, everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong, Frank loves being dominant, loves taking control of you, mind and body, but there are days where he just needs to take a break, days where he doesn’t want to think for himself.
On those days he starts arguments, and has an attitude until you decide you’ve had it with his behavior, with him. Some days Frank puts up a fight, he’ll be bratty, he’s giving you lip until you fight him into submission which is difficult. But on those days where he just gives in. No arguments, no talking back. Those are the days where you know he’s having a really rough time.
Frank is willingly to do anything on those days, he’ll listen and do as told, he’ll beg. He’ll get on his knees while looking up at you, kissing your thighs, pleading for even just a look at your chest or under your skirt.
He’s so shameless when he’s in a submissive headspace, he loves doing anything in his power to please you. Frank adores your whimpers, moans and whines, any noises that escape your lips from his doing is music to his ears.
Now I don’t think he’s the type to call you mommy in bed…but there has definitely been times where the word is on the tip of his tongue. There has been times where you just make him feel soo good and he just wants to groan ‘Mommy.’
I feel like he’s definitely more of the ma’am type, I don know if he’d be the type to say any other titles than Mommy and Ma’am.
One night though, one night when Frank is so tired, so, so tired and just needs a break, he’ll come home and find you cooking in the kitchen or reading some book he recommend and he just gives you ‘that’ look with his stupidly beautiful eyes.
You don’t have to ask any questions before you’re taking off your shirt and laying in bed, letting him suck your tits. He just lays there with you caressing his head, running your nails against his scalp comforting him to the best of your ability. Kissing his head while he runs his hand down your hips. He groans as soon as he wraps his mouth around your tit, sucking and groaning.
He treats this moment as if it’s something he never wants to forget, as if he never wants to leave it. Now, it happens when you have to pull him off for a second. He just so needy for you, he needs you. Frank groans ‘Mommy’ his voice is deep, it’s clear he’s desperate. He looks up at you. His eyes starring into your soul begging for more.
God the things it does to you just hearing it leave his mouth, God you didn’t even realize you liked that until it left his mouth, Franks mouth. You just have to give in, you have to. He’s your solider, ‘The Punisher.’ For the first time he’s begging you for something and you just have to give in, just have to let him have it.
This will usually always leads to passionate sex with soft caresses followed by ‘I love you’s’ and ‘So good Frankie.’
#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x you#frank castle#frank castle fic#frank castle oneshot#smutty thoughts#Bianquitas smutty thots#the punisher x reader#the punisher smut#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher x you#jon bernthal smut
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Llama, Llama Baby Drama | Wenclair One-Shot for @based7100
Summary: Enid gets an emergency call to babysit on a date night. When Wednesday shows up with intentions of having it anyway, they have a much-needed conversation about their future.
(separate from my established Wenclair universe in CftF or Black Menagerie)
WC: 4,979 (STILL UNDER 5K OKAY)
Rated: All Ages
trigger warning: a baby
Prompted by @based7100, "Wednesday and Enid having the do you want kids talk" as part of my >5k writing (post-taxes) challenge
“Why is it sticky?” Wednesday asked with a grimace as Enid tickled the baby that was perched on her hip. The infant gave a loud squeal of laughter that drew a deeper cringe from Wednesday at the sudden pitch.
“She is sticky because she just ate, and I didn’t want you breaking and entering and setting off the home alarm! You’re lucky I have werewolf hearing, otherwise I would have made you be the one to settle her down.” Enid said with a smile of exasperation, opening the door wider, allowing Wednesday entry to a townhouse. Enid pressed buttons on a keypad when Wednesday came into the doorway of the space with some agitated trepidation. Monsters, serial killers – entering the lair of either would’ve brought her glee, but entering the space of an eight-month-old was like being dropped into a hostile landscape without adequate preparation.
She noted Enid in her stocking feet and untied her boots, staring up at Enid and the little she with unblinking eyes, attempting to assert her dominance in the small person’s home. Enid just rolled her own and gave Wednesday a peck on the cheek as she stood tall again, clutching her backpack strap. Enid looked at the entryway clock and added, “I’m going to get her cleaned up – it’s close enough to time – I’m going to get her in the bath if you wanna just make yourself comfortable! You’re like, forty minutes early, so don’t blame me that you’re bored!” The baby stuck her entire fist into her mouth, gurgling while a trail of saliva slipped her all the way down to her elbow. Again, Wednesday was sure she made a face, unable to help her disgust.
Make yourself comfortable was quite a loaded statement, as Wednesday didn’t have a portable bed of nails handy. She and Enid had their third Saturday night date cancelled in a row; the last minute “emergency” babysitting request coming through from a Normie family she’d made friends with in Jericho (really, Wednesday considered grandma falling down the stairs more of a coming of age event than an emergency) dampening a makeup date from a makeup date. Unable to tolerate three weeks in a row of a Saturday night without her girlfriend, Wednesday had cautiously accepted the invitation to come over after the baby was in bed. The child’s mother had said that was acceptable – and though she feared becoming a 80s movie babysitter cliché of making out on the couch while there was a killer outside, she’d taken the chance as the next week was supposed to be just as busy for the seniors at the end of their school year as they’d all been. (It was unlikely the house had a landline for anyone to ask if Enid had checked on the baby, anyway.)
Enid disappeared with her down the hall, using a different tone in her voice than usual to talk to the baby, who obviously couldn’t comprehend what she was saying regardless of her cadance. Staring after them for a long minute, Wednesday gave a tiny blink and took a look around – finding a stereotypical portrait of a family sitting in a field of leaves with their infant from the fall. The picture-perfect matchy-matchy white, suburban American aesthetic completely draining her before she even properly entered the home.
Exiting the foyer into the living area, she recoiled a touch at the explosion of color and plastic toys. Wishing she’d brought Thing to put him to work, she thought about perching herself on the edge of the wooden rocker in the room, not touching anything when she realized – if she didn’t pick up the toys while Enid was picking up the baby, it would just be that much longer before they’d be able to sit together on the plush loveseat under the window.
Wednesday let out a silent sigh, dropping her shoulders, taking a sharp glance around trying to figure out the organizational method when she realized – there wasn’t one. Unable to tolerate such a disaster, she began sorting the toys into piles, little rubbery blocks with forever chemicals laced into them together, tiny plastic people that probably had lead in the paint, and stuffed animals that had polyurethane filling which would outlive them all.
She found a few collapsible baskets that had never been put together near a stack of unopened mail on a bench, keeping everything separate as she got it off the floor. She rolled up the blankets, then went so far as to wipe down the tabletop when she couldn’t identify the crusty material that was gathered on top, using a deplorable smelling baby wipe.
It seemed like Enid at least hadn’t been forced to make anything for the baby, as there was just a spoon and a little plate in the sink and cleaning off the high chair tray. (Wednesday could handle blood spatter, entrails, and digging through bones, but honestly – the mush and droll were going to push her over the edge.) After putting everything that seemed dirty in the dishwasher, Wednesday followed the sounds of splashing and giggles to the bathroom down the hall.
Enid was on her knees in front of a tub, where the baby was in some sort of special seat. Not sure if she needed to avert her gaze for privacy, Wednesday almost disappeared but Enid shook her head, “You can come in! It’ll be a few minutes. Bailey loves to play in the water!”
Bailey. That was surely, the name of a dog, not a human child. Certainly – not an adult someday who needed to enter the workforce someday.
Avoiding yet another dramatic sigh out her nose, Wednesday hovered, her arms crossed as she stared the child down, who dropped her silly little face full of joy at the leer. Bailey frowned severely, suddenly – and Wednesday took the cue to leave, wandering into the baby’s nursery.
The room was surprisingly neutral, which Wednesday did appreciate with the lack of stereotypical pink. The baby’s crib was simple, and though Wednesday might’ve joked about smothering Enid in her sleep the first day they’d met, she knew that it was important to just keep a fitted sheet on so the baby didn’t manage to do so to themselves. There was a second rocking chair – a glider, in the corner, a small bookshelf, overflowing with titles, a dresser that seemed to be doubling as a changing table, based on the diapering supplies, and a few unopened boxes of toys that she probably wasn’t developmentally prepared to play with stacked in the corner. The walls had simple wooden, cut-out letters that read the girl’s name, and three photos above the dresser of her with the family, a few peel-and-stick bunnies at her eye-level beneath them.
Wednesday squatted down to examine the child’s literature selection, shaking her head in disapproval. How did they expect to raise a well-rounded child if she lacked the classics? There wasn’t a Homer, Miguel de Cervantes, Shakespeare, Stephen King, or even a single Orwellian novel on display. Her own father had been sure to get through all of the works of Poe and War and Peace before Wednesday had even left the womb!
Pulling out a few titles that didn’t sound horrendous, Wednesday shook her head at the modern children’s literature; thinking it was a damn shame that some of the best sellers clearly had no concept of rhythm. What a chore some of the books would be to have to read aloud, a near burden and waste of a tree’s time on earth.
She sat in the glider with a stack, ready to provide Enid with what she hoped would be interpreted as a humorous, critical review of some of the books, when her girlfriend came in with the baby all wrapped up in a towel, cheeks rosy – but significantly cleaner. “Forgive me, baby Bailey – I was so rude not to properly introduce you. This is Wednesday. Don’t mind the glare, that’s her friendly one.”
Wednesday was about to start her joke reception of Brown Bear, Brown Bear but Enid kept talking. She took out a yellow onsie with ducks on it, placing Bailey on her back on the changing pad, giving that same high, fake voice that was just so grating, even from someone she loved. “Okay, sweet baby – let’s get all dry…yeah, we’ll dry your little feet-feet-feet,” The baby kicked and laughed while Enid kept going, rubbing the towel along her. “And your legs-legs-legs,” She shifted into sing-song, “And your belly-belly-belly, and your arms-arms-arms…”
It went on for so long. Wednesday just continued to watch the spectacle, as she started with a disposable diaper and then worked her into the front-zipper pair of baby pajamas. “All done!” She waved her hands in a way that Wednesday knew was sign-language, and the baby copied it. Enid kissed her all over her face, making Baily whirl in happy sounds and Wednesday was sure, she was glowering, unable to help her jealousy – even if it was a baby she was being paid to watch getting Enid’s physical and emotional attention.
Finally, Enid completed the scene, looking at Wednesday with a seriously sort of expression. “We’re almost done. Can you hang in there?” She asked, using nearly the same voice that she had for the baby. Practically growling, she was about to stand up, when Enid developed an evil sort of twinkle in her eye and came forward, depositing Bailey suddenly onto Wednesday’s lap. Thankfully – she had some sort of protective instinct, and her reflexes kicked in before she could let the baby fall backwards. She went to make a snide, argumentative comment, but Enid just wasn’t having it. “Start reading to her, I’ll make her bottle, and we can be done in half the time.”
“Enid – I can’t –!?”
“Read?” She teased sassily, putting her hands on her hips, perching a brow. “Nice try. Here, she loves this one,” She reached down to a paperback (the very feeling of the thin cardboard cover making Wednesday’s skin crawl) with a worried looking farm animal on top.
Before she could protest again, Enid adjusted Bailey more in Wednesday’s lap, putting her back closer to her chest. Bailey looked at Wednesday with as much certainty as she returned, looking like she was about to cry. “Start reading and she’ll totes be fine.”
“Enid, I swear –”
At the empty threat, Enid dashed out of the room and down the hall. Wednesday let out a breath, grumbling, “Llama, Llama, Red Pajama…creative. Endlessly, creative.”
With a sigh, she started to read and Bailey settled at the familiar rhyme. Wednesday followed through, managing to go for the first few pages until she read, “Llama, Llama, red pajama feels alone without his mama. Baby Llama wants a drink…oh, no. No, no, no. This Llama is playing games with his caregiver and she needs to ignore him before she develops horrific behavior cycles that take years to break. Next thing she knows, she’s going to have nine-year-old llama walking in on mama and dada llama fornicating and traumatizing him like Pugsley because they never put an end to his bedtime drama. Oh, llama, drama – I suppose that’s nearly clever.”
Sighing, she flipped through the pages to find that indeed, the mother gave into the child’s tantrum and Wednesday snapped the book shut. Reaching into a stack, she pulled out another title. “Fine, Corduroy. At least Lisa understands that the value of something doesn’t lay necessarily in the perceived perfection of it, but in what it means to the individual. This is a better message for you to internalize.”
With that, she found herself actually gliding the chair back and forth, starting and finishing the story. Bailey yawned and gave a clap at the end, looking up at Wednesday, squeezing her hands open and shut.
Enid gave an amused chuckle from the doorway, shaking a bottle. “It’s right here, sweet girl.” Bailey kicked her little feet and reached her hands for it. Enid gave her the bottle and she held it with one hand, using the other to twirl at her own, light-brown hair as her eyes instinctively went half shut, but turned back to the book. Wednesday tried to hand her over, but Enid winked. “I think you’ve got this. Look, she’s relaxing on you!”
“I don’t like this,” Wednesday grumbled, but didn’t fight it too hard, not wanting to make the baby choke. In general, she wasn’t about to be the good Samaritan to help somebody experiencing that in public, as it seemed like a solid natural consequence, but she didn’t want to be the reason that Enid lost her babysitting gig. (She stubbornly refused to always allow Wednesday to pay for things and insisted on odd jobs around town to make her own money.)
“You’re doing great,” Enid promised, kneeling at her side, putting a hand on Wednesday’s knee. “It’s good to challenge yourself to do things that make you uncomfortable.”
She flickered her gaze down to the hand on her knee, wishing it were elsewhere on her body… “Give me another book,” She demanded as the baby was practically guzzling her bedtime bottle.
With two more selections (far better choices for her interest level of reading aloud to an infant – though she swore, if she ever ended up coming again, she’d bring some proper literature), Wednesday closed the third story up and looked at Enid, who was looking at her with…
…fondness? Desire? She couldn’t quite read the emotion. As the baby finished, Wednesday passed her over to Enid, where she curled instinctively into her neck, holding onto her shoulder with a contented sigh. Watching the sight herself for a long moment, she started to feel a strange discomfort and took the empty bottle, excusing herself as Enid started to pat her back and rock her to sleep.
With simple deduction in the kitchen that the bottle required to be hand-washed, Wednesday completed the task, then found Enid’s phone on counter. Unlocking it and logging into her own account for a food delivery application, she placed an order for a local favorite that was still open at the evening hour, and wrote threatening instructions not to knock or ring the bell. If that baby woke once it was placed in the crib, so help her…
It was hardly ten minutes later that Enid stepped out of the room with a little monitor in her hand, placing it on the end table that had little rubber bumpers on the corners, giving a stretch and a yawn before looking at the stiff-sitting Wednesday fondly.
“Hey,” She greeted, plopping herself down on the loveseat, turning right into her.
“Howdy,” Wednesday spoke in reply. “Is the small gremlin asleep?”
Rolling her eyes again, Enid put a hand on Wednesday’s cheek, turning it towards her to press a long, sweet kiss on her lips. “She’s out. Thanks to your help. I appreciate it.”
“I have been told I have a soothing reading voice,” Wednesday spoke of herself, squaring her shoulders a little bit. “I would still prefer to have been at the steakhouse and then stargazing in the cemetery with you, though.”
“I know,” Enid wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I’d usually say no to a same day request – but nana in the E.R. is a pretty valid reason. Imagine poor Bailey stuck there with them all night? She’d have been miserable.”
“You seem to do a good job at keeping her happy. I claim she’s still sticky, though.”
“Wednesday, she’s a baby,” Enid gave a tired chuckle, leaning back on the couch, intertwining their hands. “Thank you for being willing to even come over. I thought you might give me the silent treatment tonight.”
“I considered it,” She said honestly. “But…with time fleeting from us so quickly these days, only a month left until graduation – it seems prudent to spend as much time together as we possibly can, even if it includes minors.”
“Hopefully it’s a one-time thing. I told Bailey’s mama when I got here, I think that emergencies-pending, I’m tapping out for the rest of the year. There’s way too much fun left to be had and I don’t want to regret missing out for cash.”
“As I have repeatedly insisted, it is unnecessary. But I understand the desire to be productive and contribute to capitalism in your own way. I do hope you told her, she’s not allowed to have any emergencies next weekend.”
Giving almost a purr of a sound, Enid traced Wednesday’s jaw. “Not when I’ve convinced you to be my date to the Dark Prom.”
“As if I’d let you go alone,” Wednesday let out a little breath through her nose. “I’ve ordered dinner, so we can still have a touch of our date tonight as well.”
“Thank you,” Enid said quietly, kissing her again. “Hey…while we wait for that…let’s chat, since the topic is indirectly here, anyway.”
At the sound of sincere need for a challenging conversation, Wednesday’s defenses immediately went up. “Or I could pull you onto my lap and have you put your tongue in my mouth.”
“Well, I’m going to do that, anyway,” Enid giggled, straddling her to prove the point, giving her a long kiss. Thinking she was off the hook, Wednesday went to slide her hands along her back, just above her hot-pink pants, when Enid caught them and brought them together near her chest, pushing a kiss to her fingers. “We should talk.”
“We should keep doing that.”
“I’m serious,” Enid said quietly. “Look, I love you, so much. But – you’ve been very clever and used incredible evasive tactics each time we’ve tried to have a chat on any sort of serious front like the one that we really need to.”
Feeling trapped, Wednesday’s heartrate doubled in speed and she had to exercise every molecule of self-restraint she had not to shove her girlfriend to escape the situation. “I know, you’re not afraid of anything, but the future…it’s nerve wracking to think about. And, unfortunately – it’s really only a month away. I love you. I know that I love you, and I know that you love me, too. But we do need to start talking about what we want in life beyond just that we love each other. For your mom and dad, it was so easy – as they graduated Nevermore, they just ran off on trips and quests and got married and had more fun than they knew what to do with. We already know that our lives are going to be different than that. So…I just want to talk about that, a little bit – before we makeout anymore, okay?”
“Enid…” Wednesday tried to avoid her gaze. “I didn’t come over her to make things difficult, I thought since you would put the baby to sleep by seven-thirty, we could just spend time together-”
“We are. We will. But…Wednesday – do you want to have babies with me someday?”
Feeling like the springs in the couch cushions had just given out, popped her off and through the roof – Wednesday knew the color drained right out of her face, her eyes glazed over and when no words could form in her throat –
“Hey, hey…” Enid put her hands on her cheeks, snapping her awareness back. She pushed a sweet kiss to Wednesday’s lips and tilted her head. “Stay with me. I think that I’ve got my answer.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Wednesday responded with far more hostility than she needed to.
“Okay, okay…” Enid lifted her hands up in defense and sighed. “I’m sorry. That was so not a good way to lay that out there. But I’ve been trying to ask you more direct questions for months and you always avoid them, Wednesday. It’s frustrating! I want to plan for the future, and I want a future with you. I just want to know what that means.”
Wednesday swallowed thickly, trying not to feel overwhelmed and guilty. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears, her palms were sweaty –
“I told my mother that I would never be like her. I would never be a housewife, or a mother.”
There was a flicker on Enid’s face. Barely there, but obvious to the girl who knew her the most, who knew her the best, who loved her more than she’d ever thought possible.
“I mean, we’d be working, no doubt,” Enid said through a bubble of barely concealed emotion. “I can’t see you ever just wanting to sit about at home, and even if you were, you’d be writing or composing music or solving contracted murder cases, for sure…”
Cutting off her ramble as guilt was the next emotion that she started to experience, Wednesday hated how her harsh could snap out Enid’s light so quickly, even when she tried to hide it. “I…didn’t mean…Enid, when you just throw these things at me, I’m bound not to have an eloquent speech planned.”
“Well,” Enid shrugged, biting her lip. “We’ve talked about being married. That it might be possible for us. Just know – I’m open to having a family with you. Whether that’s us and a disembodied hand and a one-eyed cat, or us and a little…human-person, you know, I’m open to it. Just so you know.”
Getting a little lost in her comment, Wednesday popped a questioning brow. “Why would the cat only have one eye?”
Enid recoiled a little. “You seriously think you’d have a normal pet? Be real, Wednesday. The one-eyed cat would be a sign that he’s a street fighter. That’s way more your style than a cuddly, perfect Persian.”
Wanting to acknowledge the other part of Enid’s sentence, she found words locked in her throat again. She gave a shrug and balled her hands into fists at either side of Enid’s ankles on the couch.
“We know we have the next four years together, so like – this isn’t a convo that has to happen right now, I guess. I’ve just…read, that the longer a couple takes to talk about their wants and desires for the future, the more challenging it is if those things are different from one another. I don’t want things to be challenging with you. I love you. And I want to know – your wants, so that…I can prepare myself for making them happen.”
She leaned forward and initiated a kiss and Wednesday immediately felt her heart rate drop. After letting it go on long enough that her hair was a little messy in the back from Wednesday’s wandering hands, Enid pulled away with a wink, wanting to check the baby monitor. “Oh, she’s out. I had her outside until just before she needed dinner. The fresh air always does that.”
Just as Wednesday was about to try and tug her in for more affection, an alert on Enid’s phone indicated that the food had arrived. She deactivated and reset the alarm after securing it in her hands. “It’s no steak, but carne asada will totally do instead of whatever frozen post-partum diet food Bailey’s mama has in the freezer. Ick.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes. “A mother feeling pressure to return to her pre-pregnancy size is such a horrific societal pressure that needs to be popped.”
Enid brought them plates and forks, giving an approving sigh. “I know, right? Like – you just grew a whole-ass human! Give yourself a minute, mama – you just performed a miracle, and you should appreciate your body.”
Biting back a comment befitting her father of appreciating Enid’s body, Wednesday thanked her for the dinnerware and served them, listening to Enid blather about how excited she was for the following weekend and all the songs she hoped the DJ would play, singing a few dramatically to remind Wednesday of how they went (as if she could forget the earworms).
After taking care of the dishes and putting the leftovers in the fridge, Wednesday knelt in front of Enid as she flipped through a streaming app, knowing it would be some time before she landed on something for them to watch.
When she put her hands on Enid’s knees, the same way that Enid had done when she was rocking the baby, Wednesday locked eyes on hers. Enid dropped the remote. “You okay?” She asked in a serious, worried way, rubbing her shoulder.
Nodding, Wednesday let out a breath through her nose and shrugged. “I’m open…to whatever feels right for us.”
Enid lowered her hand from her shoulder to take Wednesday’s both in hers. “You don’t have to say that just because I said it first,” She promised. “I meant it as in, there’s no pressure, like - one way or the other. I’m serious. I just want a life with you.”
“What if we found a two eyed cat…and a one-eyed child at the same time?”
Blinking, Enid smirked. “I’m not sure what circumstances would lead to that, but of course. I don’t care how many eyes a kid has. If it feels like they’re part of our family, of course they should join it!”
Wednesday gave a curt nod, finding the words that had been locked away. “I don’t know that I’d ever want to carry a child. Physically, I mean – in utero. It seems like a distressing invasion of my personal space that I’m not sure I would ever recover from, and not due to societal standards of looking a certain, outward way afterwards.”
Enid’s eyes grew a watery sheen to them. “Of course, Wednesday. We’d never put you through something that made you uncomfortable that way. I’m, ugh,” She groaned. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by practically forcing you to hold baby Bailey earlier. That was wrong, I’m s-”
“That was an okay sort of discomfort,” Wednesday promised. She’d very much survived that moment. “It’s good to prove to myself that I can be gentle sometimes. But…maybe – if we don’t happen upon any orphans with limb differences who need space in our home, and you feel that you would like to carry a child and technology advances in such a way that it is possible for them to share our genetic makeup and we have space and have open hearts and we decide it’s what’s best for us and our family in our situation -”
Enid cut off her near-breathless ramble with a very sweet kiss. “I love you. I love this. Keeping our hearts open. That’s all I wanted to know, Wednesday.” She beamed at her. “You did a great job with Bailey, tonight.”
“You’re the natural. I would likely have a large learning curve.”
Enid raised a brow. “I’m not so sure. I think if it was a child of your own, not one already on a firm schedule and routine, you’d be quite instinctive. What aren’t you good at Wednesday?”
“Engaging in conversations and expressing my feelings,” She muttered as she proved that very point that night.
“Well, it’s not your strength, but both are totally mine, so – that’s where you lean on me, because I’m your partner, who loves you. And,” She kissed her again. “I appreciate you, coming out here tonight, just to spend this time with me like we’d planned. And having this tough talk. I love you. Come put your butt on this couch so I can sit on you and kiss you again.”
Not needing to be told twice, Wednesday took that direction very well, enjoying about twenty minutes of heated kisses, heavy petting and almost a little bit more when a fussing sound came from the monitor.
Enid groaned as she pulled away. “Right now, my heart is so not open to this,” She giggled.
Wednesday smirked, following her, having an idea as they moved to the nursery. Bailey was crying, mostly asleep, but wanting…something.
“I’ll change her real quick,” Enid whispered, nodding, “That bedtime bottle will run right through a baby.”
As Bailey whined and grumbled when Enid made to lay her back down in the crib, letting out a loud cry that made Wednesday wince, she shook her head, reaching her arms out. “I’ll talk to her.”
With an amused smirk, Enid passed her over and Wednesday sat back in the gliding chair, holding her awkwardly in front of her, explaining to the baby, who stopped, staring at her with exhausted eyes, “You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re warm. You’re full. You’re dry. You have everything you need, except about ten more hours of sleep. So, I’m going to rock you, and in five minutes, I’m putting you back in the crib, and you’re going to sleep. Do you understand?”
It was as if the baby said ‘yes’ when she gave a coo, reaching forward. Wednesday gave a curt nod. “That’s the rule. Five minutes of rocking, then back to bed.”
With the firm expectation set, she brought Bailey up to her shoulder the way she’d seen Enid do earlier. She snuggled right in, surprisingly – and thankfully – she wasn’t overtly sticky or snotty, as Enid had wiped her face pretty well after changing her. Gliding back and forth and patting her back, Wednesday thought that perhaps – if she had a beautifully haunting Russian composition playing softly in the background, it would help her stay asleep – adding that to her mental toolbox of notes in case the situation ever arose for her to develop a routine with a baby…
As she expected, once she’d put her foot down with the rule, Bailey knocked out on her shoulder. Enid whispered and motioned for how to transfer her into the crib, and as she did so, onto her back, Wednesday almost smiled at their tag-team success.
Back in the hallway, Enid winked and gave her a kiss. “You are a natural, Wednesday. You just do things in your own way. Now come here,” She gripped her collar, making Wednesday flush. “I’m about to have my own way with you.”
#wednesday 2022#fanfic#oneshot#wenclair#author hates babies#thank you for the prompt this was so easy to write I did half of it on my prep period today lol#also fuck llama llama so hard#he's banned in my classroom as is Pete the damn Cat and Skippy Jon Jones#layla's >5k challenge
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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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𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this idea came to me at like 2 am and im obsessed
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!frank castle x sub!reader
𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝!
𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!
𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ ONLY, language, unprotected sex, masturbation (f), use of sex toys (dildo), daddy kink, unedited, sorry for any missed typos
"What happened?" Frank frantically asks, pressing the phone to his cheek.
It was almost one-thirty am when your name popped up on his phone. It wasn't often that you called him this late and the last time you did, you had gotten lost walking home from a night out with your friends. Since then, he's kept his phone on with the volume high.
"Baby, what happened?" He sits up in bed, waiting for you on the other again.
"I'm safe, I promise... I just.." You trailed off, before taking a deep breath.
Frank was getting nervous, looking around for his keys and his clothes. Even if it wasn't anything important, he was going to head over to your place- not wanting to chance anything.
"I can't..." You felt ashamed having to call him this late for something so little, but you needed him.
"I can't... cum.." A sigh of relief that you weren't in any immediate danger came from Frank.
Your cheeks burned and your eyes welled with embarrassment. Frank's cock twitched at the shyness of your voice. This was the first time you've called him with something like this. Frank didn't mind you getting off on your own, but he would of course prefer being there with you.
Smiling to himself he asks, "Why can't you cum, sweetheart?"
He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling at his sweatpants. You're lying back against pillows completely naked with your fingers between your thighs. Hearing his voice drop with the rasp had arousal leaking out of you.
Your heartbeat began to beat faster,
"... My toys don't feel as good as you,"
You huff, looking over at the dildo lying next to you. Frank inhales sharply, running his hands through his hair. He can't even imagine how wound up you had to be to resort to your toys. The pink glass dildo, he had bought it for you for when he's away and you didn't usually use them- but tonight you just needed a release not even the dildo was helping.
The image of you sprawled out on the bed with your fingers rubbing your clit while you pumped yourself had Frank's cock stirring.
"Yeah?" He breathed, standing and grabbing his keys.
"Please, Frankie... I need you," Your voice was just above a whisper.
Frank bit back a moan, "I'll be right there, sweetheart,"
Placed your phone on the nightstand and continued to slowly pump yourself. You would get so close, but nothing seemed to get you to that last bit. You wished you knew why you were extra needy today and why it was extra hard to finish, but you just couldn't figure out why.
The closer Frank gets to your apartment door, the bigger his bulge grew. You only lived a few blocks away. In moments like this, you wish you lived together.
Frank digs in his pockets for his key. When he opens the front door, he can hear the frustrated whines and whimpers. Chuckling to himself, Franks kicks his shoes off and empties his pockets on the dining table by the door. Your bedroom door is shut, so Frank knocks gently before opening it, making sure not to startle you.
"I told you I was on my way," Frank's cock twitched again seeing you bare and spread wide on the bed.
Dropping the dildo, you jump up from the bed and practically run to him. Frank pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. You bite the inside of your cheek when you feel the bulge pressing against your skin. While he hugs you, Frank feels the tension in your shoulders.
"You're so tense, sweetheart, no wonder you can't cum." His hands run over your back, soothing the tension.
"C'mon." Pulling away from the hug, Frank gives you a soft kiss.
Motioning to the bed, you climb back on top of the comforter. Frank removes his hoodie and tosses it on the chair in the corner of the room.
"You have to relax, okay?" Frank slips between your legs, lying on his stomach and placing one of your legs over his shoulder.
He opens your pussy wide and sees your clit is swollen from all the attention. Running his thumb over the sensitive bud, you jerk your hips. Frank sees you pulsing around nothing, desperately begging to be filled. You watch him as he intently, inspects you- getting more frustrated that he's not doing anything.
"Frankie..." His palm runs up the top of your thigh, soothing your restlessness. Frank grabs the dildo and begins to tease you.
Knowing how impatient you are, it's safe to assume you didn't properly warm yourself up. Frank begins to drag the toy up between your folds, lazily circling your clit. Soon the soft noise start flowing and your body relaxes. It's so easy with Frank, he understands your body better than you do. The dildo glides down to your aching hole, slipping in only about two inches.
"Attagirl, look at that! How does that feel?" You nod, and your fingers find your nipples.
They begin to pinch and tug adding to the pleasure. Frank adds a few more inches, twisting and pumping you full. It feels better than when you tried, but it just still wasn't doing it.
You needed more, you needed Frank.
"It's still not enough..." He knew exactly what you were referring too, but he needed you to say it. Frank chuckles, kissing the inside of your thigh.
"Sweetheart, if you want my cock you need to use your words." Frank's still pumping you with the dildo.
You whine, "Daddy, I need your cock!"
With that, Frank smiles. He carefully pulls the dildo out, giving it to you to clean off. You take it and slip it past your lips. While you suck it clean, Frank removes the rest of his clothes.
When he's ready, he strokes himself a few times to get himself ready. Frank pulls your legs to the edge of the bed. Running the tip of his cock over your folds, you moan, finally getting what you need.
Frank slides inside you and you gasp. There is a relief that you hadn't had all night. It felt right and you lit up. Frank hovers over you and your legs wrap around him instantly. You claw at his lower back wanting him to get closer.
He chuckles, "There's my girl, just needed daddy's dick huh?" You're lost in it and your mind is fuzzy.
"C'mon now, use me- take what you need- fuck-" You're bucking your hips upward, signaling that you want more.
Frank takes the queue and picks up his pace.
"That's it, attagirl! Feels so much better doesn't it, sweetheart?" Without warning, your body seizes, you're gripping his body so tight and you clenching around him so tight.
You barely have time to process what's happening before you're hit with overwhelming pleasure.
"F-Fuck, y'so tight-" Frank holds steady while you inhale sharply.
The moans get caught in your throat while your orgasm hits you like a train. It's so hard that tears swell in your eyes and all you can manage to do is whine.
"M'sorry, daddy- I couldn't hold it- It was so strong-" You gulp back, embarrassment washes over you. You've never cum that hard before and you certainly never cum without asking his permission.
"Baby, baby- you did so well! Don't you dare say sorry," He kisses your forehead. All you do is nod and Frank kisses your forehead down to your lips. Frank just kisses you and runs his thumb over your cheek, calming your body down from the intense high.
#frank castle#minors dni#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader#frank castle imagine#frank castle x you#frank castle x female reader#frank castle drabble#frank castle blurb#frank castle fluff#frank castle oneshot#frank castle angst#the punisher x reader#the punisher#the punisher smut#the defenders#marvel#mcu#jon bernthal#jon bernthal smut#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal oneshot#jon bernthal x female reader#daddy!frank
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Heyy I would like to request where after a long day the reader comes back home and she’s feeling exhausted and when she gets back Frank helps her feel more relaxed by massaging places on her body where she feels a little sore and as he’s doing that he leaves kisses along her back etc and that leads to a heavy make out session but Frank is so gentle with her and they have sex. Sorry is this is so detailed this was a scenario I was imagining😭😭😭❤️
I Got You | Frank Castle x Reader
warnings: fluff with soft smut. Established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex, creampied, implied size kink. Frank is being an absolute teddy bear of a boyfriend.
Word count: 1.6K
18+ ONLY | Minors DNI
A/N: Ah I absolutely love this scenario! Thank you so much for sending in Frank's request! I don't get him often! After I wrote this, I realized I forgot about the heavy making out part. I just went straight to the sexy time. I hope that’s ok! If you liked this, please comment or reblog. It means a lot, and it’s greatly appreciated.
Frank Castle Masterlist
Do not copy, translate, or repost my works anywhere else !!
“Rough day?”
His voice croaked, pulling you out of your little thoughts as you turned after you put on his T-shirt. His eyes melted like molten dark chocolate. His mass frame overwhelmed the apartment's small bedroom.
“Very tiring,” you replied lazily. “Is box mac and cheese ok with you? I just have no energy to cook today.”
Frank didn’t miss your tired voice. “Anything is good, sweetheart,” he said as he made his way to the bed. The soft mattress dipped by the weight of his massive frame. His large palm patted the spot in front of him.
“Come here,” he said softly. The low rumble of his voice sent a slight tremor through your nerve like a gentle earthquake.
You did as he had asked, sitting yourself down right in front of him. Frank was sitting astride your body. You felt small compared to his larger body. His warmness permeated the air around you almost invitingly. He was your comfort and warmth.
Frank slowly massaged your shoulder, squeezing and kneading your flesh firmly. A throaty moan slipped past your lips and the sound made his cock jolt. He knew he shouldn’t get turned on by such a simple act as this, but your voice–God, your voice sounded like it was buried deep inside you.
Another pleasurable groan ripped from your mouth as he continued to work through your stiff muscles. You were clearly unaware of the sort of sinful things that came out of your mouth, and Frank was suffering for it.
Your eyes flew open when you felt his lips on the nape of your neck, kissing you almost gently, eliciting a deep hunger from within you. Your breath started to hitch in your throat as the ache between your thighs was growing prominent and insistent, throbbing not so subtly to your heartbeat. Your attention narrowed on his lips, pinpointing where he would kiss you next.
First, he was at the nape of your neck, then down to your shoulder. His large, calloused hands slipped underneath the oversized t-shirt, making your stomach do a flip as your heart began to raise.
His rough palms skimmed over your stomach, then upward till he grasped both of your breasts. Only then you could feel yourself exhale shakily. Your body slumped against his and you wanted to moan by the way his distinct bulge was pressing against your back. He was rock hard. Your pussy throbbed needily as you imagined the way his cock fit so nicely into your tightness. You were aching to be stuffed by him.
Frank kneaded your breasts lazily as his lips were now on your shoulders. His rough fingers lazily twirled and twisted at your nipples until they were painfully taut.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked. Lust was evidence in his voice as he continued his assault upon your soft mounds. Slick began to gather at your pantie, soaking it through as your legs instinctively parted.
Words failed you as you laid your head against his chest all the while that he worked you and strung you up like a tight chord. You could feel his hand slowly moving southward toward your throbbing heat.
His fingers pressed firmly against your clothed slit, and you whined softly in his arms. Frank didn’t say a word as he continued to rub you shamelessly.
“Baby, you’re so wet for me and I barely touch you,” he murmured softly. His hot breath fanned against your ears, only making you become hyper-aware of his touches.
“Look at this,” he said as he pressed his finger against your swollen clit. A soft, whiny cry fell from your lips as your legs threatened to close.
“Keep your legs open or I’ll make you,” he warned. His tone only made you wetter if you weren’t drenching through your panties already. The dangerous edge in his voice thrilled you and made you want to do the thing he said not to do just to find out if he’d followed through with his threat.
Knowing Frank though, he didn’t like fucking around.
You complied willingly, spreading your legs apart to give him more access. Frank not so gently now pushed your pantie to the side and slipped two of his fingers inside you. A soft hiss left your lips and the suddenness. You didn’t push him away though as you welcomed his thick fingers, working your slick heat, pumping them at a slow, tantalizing pace.
He took his time with you, stroking you and filling you with his fingers as he nibbled the shell of your ear gently.
“Fuck, look at how your pussy squeezes my fingers. Are you imagining me fucking you with my cock?”
You nodded, but Frank wanted you to say it, so he drew out his fingers all the way out before he pushed them all the way till he was knuckled deep inside your drenched heat.
You let out a cry as your body jolted. “Yes, baby! Yes. I want you to fuck me with your big fat cock so bad,” you whined against his chest.
You could feel Frank smirking against your shoulders before he withdrew his hand away from you, leaving you high and dry. You let out a protesting whine before you felt yourself being flipped over onto your back. His body covered yours in a matter of seconds before his lips found yours again, kissing you with a newfound urgency.
His dexterous fingers worked their way around your pantie, slowly sliding it off you. You let out a hiss as the cold air hit your bare pussy, but Frank didn’t let you have time to think as he settled himself between your thighs.
His hands slid underneath your ass, and he pulled you till your pussy was flushed against his bulge. Frank began to ground his hips against you, and you would have sworn your eyes were now rolling to the back of your skull as jolts of pleasure shot through you.
He was a fucking menace for teasing you and edging you like this.
“Frank, baby, please,” you begged softly as you tried to grab onto the pillow with your might, but to no avail. You could feel yourself strung up tighter at the friction, but Frank was relentless.
It felt like ages as you laid there when you knew it wasn’t that long. He was finally given into your soft pleading and begging. Frank finally had enough of the teasing. He pulled back slightly and slid the gray sweatpants down. Then his shirt was next, throwing it over his shoulder with little care.
His mouth descended upon yours once more as you felt his hand begin your thighs, rubbing the fat head of his cock against your slick first before he pushed himself all the way inside you, making you moan in unison.
It always felt like the first time all over again by his sheer size. Your body felt like it was set ablaze from the inside before it melted into something more as pleasure began to course through you. He always stretched you out so deliciously, stroking that hunger inside you.
He withdrew himself almost to the edge, then pushed deep inside you. His body was hard and forceful, his muscles taut, sending your body rocked against the bed. You fought to control the noise that threatened to escape from your mouth, though the effort was fruitless by the way he was fucking you so deep and hard. You barely have any sort of self-control left.
Your hands flew to his back, nails dug into his hardback. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to set the pace, setting your body on fire. Frank grunted deeply every time he thrust into you. He sounded so primal and so feral that all you did was let yourself go.
His cock somehow felt bigger as he thrust into you faster and wilder. You were both panting now as both of your bodies slicked with perspiration. Then his hand flew to the apex of your thighs, where both of your bodies joined.
Cupping your slick pussy, he squeezed and rubbed at the hard nub, not even bothering to be gentle anymore.
“I got you baby. I got you,” he whispered almost sinfully.
His roughness drove you straight to the edge as your body ascended by the pleasure. Your wall fluttered around him, squeezing him till you let out a shout.
You came around him hard as he continued to hammer into you. Your body arched off the bed as intense pleasure shot through you.
Frank groaned into your throat as his hips continued to drive into you as he gave you a few more thrusts, shoving his cock so hard up your inside that you felt like he might have rearranged your inside.
He cried out your name. It was deep and gravel almost like an animal. His body strained as he came inside you, spurting his hot cum inside of you, flooding you with nothing by his release.
You lay underneath him, panting. Your body felt heavy and sluggish as you bathed into the afterglow of your orgasm.
Eventually, Frank pulled himself out and laid his large body beside you. His soft brown eyes melted into you with devotion. A crooked smile etched upon his features as his fingers traced your cheek.
“Told you, I got you,” he said lazily.
“I know, baby, and I've never doubted you.”
You turned and laid on his chest as he stroked your back. The tenderness made you want to cry because you know this moment is reserved only for you.
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Single Mother
Blackpool Combat Club X Fem Reader
The Blackpool combat club’s reaction to you becoming a single mom
Main Masterlist
I woke up in the morning feeling like absolute garbage. This whole week I had just been feeling off. I thought it might be stress with everything going on lately but I knew what stress felt like. I was sick, not sick as in I have a cold, just sick. Tony hadn’t been booking me TV due to my sickness and I was grateful for that. However, being a part of the Blackpool Combat Club meant I would still have to be at every show and be ringside for the boy’s matches. Currently, I sat on the large couch in our private locker room eating crackers since it was the only thing I could hold down. I had never felt so sick in my entire life, this was unlike me. I never was sick, I was always ready for a fight. I needed to be. I know this frightened the BCC, they didn’t know what to do. Alone with my thoughts, Bryan entered the room with a concerned look in his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he asked nervously. “Like shit” I responded. I could see the gears turning in his head, I wondered what he was thinking. “What are your symptoms again?” “Nausea, dizziness, some morning sickness. I just feel horrible. Why do you ask?” Bryan knew my symptoms, he and Mox were dealing with my sick ass all week. “I’m just thinking. Do you think that you could be pregnant?” Bryan oddly calm. “Why would you think I’m pregnant?” I asked him confused. “I’m just trying to think why you have been so sick recently. I also have two kids, ya know. I think I know pregnancy symptoms when I see them” This whole conversation between Bryan and I made me uncomfortable, yet he had a point. The more I thought about it, maybe I was pregnant. I didn’t even realize that I missed my period.
It felt like the longest five minutes of my life as I awaited the results from the piece of plastic I held in my hand. This couldn't be happening right now, no way I could be pregnant. I paced around the small washroom as I awaited the results. The entire BCC stood on the other side of the door, guarding it like their lives depended on it. “What does it say?” yelled Mox through the door. “Nothing yet” I responded. After a few more moments of panicking the five minutes were up. I was too scared to look at the results. I wasn’t ready to be a mother, let alone a single mother! How would I explain this to everyone?
I looked at the test and felt my stomach drop. Two lines, I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to say. “Is everything okay in there?” Bryan asked carefully. I said nothing as I opened the door. They could tell by the tears that I was pregnant. I was greeted by a big group hug as I sobbed. We were the most badass faction in this company, what would people say about this? “It’s okay, It’s okay Y/n,” They told me as they ushered me back into our locker room. “No, it’s not okay. How the fuck am I supposed to raise a child!” I confessed
“We will all help you” Bryan assured me “You don’t have to make a decision right now but whatever you do we will be there for every second” Claudio explained “We are family. You have nothing to worry about Y/n” I didn’t know what would happen, this was a lot to take in but I was grateful I had these guys who would be there for me for every second of it.
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frank with reader who’s really touchy and loves to touch frank and after a bad mission he snaps at her and she knows it’s because of what happened that night not her but she still feels really bad and distances herself
A/N: hey bestie i got this ask and felt so inspired that i wrote 90% of it in my free time at work today. fastest turn around time ever??? don't get used to it lol i hope you enjoy!!
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Frank knew he had fucked up the second the words left his mouth. He watched the words hit you, watched you process the rage induced slip-up that had forced its way out of his mouth – the way you recoiled your hand from his skin and stumbled over yourself to move away from him. It made him sick. Guilt coiled in his stomach, and before he could apologize, or say anything at all, you turned and left the room, mumbling an apology under your breath.
Frank couldn’t figure out where it had gone wrong. He’d never snapped at you before tonight and was almost as shocked as you were when the words tumbled out of his mouth.
“Stop fucking touching me. I said I’m fucking fine.”
Regret gnawed at his stomach, and if he wasn’t bleeding so hard out of the wound on his arm, he would’ve followed you out of the bathroom, dropped to his knees, and begged your forgiveness. But blood was hard to get out of carpet, and he didn’t want you upset about two things tonight.
So he stitched himself up, and wondered where you were in the apartment, and hoped to God you weren’t somewhere crying. The tears, your tears, he realized, were his least favorite thing in the world, especially if he was the cause of them. He’d rip any fucker who made you cry in half, a promise he’d made good on multiple times, but he hadn’t accounted for the tears he, himself would cause. The guilt overwhelming his senses were doing the job for him anyways – the longer he waited to confront you, the more he felt like an absolute asshole.
He tested the durability of the dressing on the wound, winding his arm around until he winced. A sharp pain clanged through the left side of his body, and though it made him grimace, he sat with the pain for a moment – let it ground him so that the stress of the evening could leave him. Pain usually sharpened his senses and made him feel more at home in his body. Tonight, it only unsettled him more.
He wondered if he screwed it up with you for good. You’d worked through a lot of things with Frank, but never this, and the idea of you leaving before he could even try to make things right targeted the urgency in him. He stalked to the door and began his search.
-
The hard brick dug into your back as you sat down, and for the third time in half a minute, you questioned your decision to clamber out the window and climb to the roof. You didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but the idea of pacing around the apartment listening to Frank grunt his way through stitches made it hard to breathe, so you did the next best thing – aka the roof.
You didn’t even need time to think the encounter with Frank over. You knew why he’d said it and what he’d been through tonight, but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest from blooming. It also didn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. You had tried to blink them away, but the more you tried to ignore them, the more your vision blurred.
You’d always been a touchy person, though it had never been quite as present as it was when you were near Frank. When you first met him, you’d been so drawn to his charming aura that you hadn’t realized you’d been shaking his hand for at least 45 seconds. He hadn’t said anything – just kept watching you watch him with a soft smile on his face.
And the rest was history. You spent the entire first weekend after you met wrapped in each other’s arms, fucking on every available surface in your apartment. You didn’t quite understand why you felt the desire to be constantly touching him, but he didn’t complain and allowed you to give in to your desires as often as you wanted to. You had mentioned to him early on in your relationship that he could tell you to stop if he needed his space, but he’d never asked you to stop.
Until tonight.
And you respected it. You did what he asked. You “stopped fucking touching” him as soon as the words had left his mouth, and maybe it hurt your feelings, but you weren’t going to push that on him. If he wanted you to stop touching him, you would, even if it carved a deep, cavernous hole in your heart.
“Sweetheart?”
Your heart seized, and you jumped at Frank’s sudden appearance.
“Hey.” You mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “How’d you find me?”
“I worry about you too much not to be able to find you.” You quirked an eyebrow at him, unable to resist looking at him any longer, and he shrugged. “You left the window to the fire escape open. Can I sit?”
You shuffled to the side, allowing him the space to sit down, though you were careful not to let your skin brush against his. Frank let out a choked scoff and pressed his leg against yours. You turned to him, brows furrowed.
“I thought you didn’t want me touching you.”
And yeah, maybe you threw the words in his face to make him feel a little worse, but he was cracking jokes after snapping at you, and you couldn’t help the bite in your tone - didn’t want to help the bite in your tone.
He shook his head, expression turning grave.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“You said it, though.”
“I know.” He nodded. “I know.”
You watched him take in your features – the swollen cheeks from the few tears that slipped earlier, the wildness of your hair after one too many run-throughs with your fingers, the way you could barely look at him before turning away again.
“I was just trying to help you.” Your eyes crinkled at the thought of him snapping at you again.
He nodded, cradling your face in his palms.
“I’m an asshole, baby.” His voice cracked, “I never want you to stop touching me. I love it – I love you – and I’m sorry.”
You gaped up at him, at the desperate expression on his face. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the back of your eyes. You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure what to say.
“Don’t cry, baby.” He shook his head, wiping your tears away with the soft pads of his thumbs, “Please don’t cry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You don’t understand how sorry I am.”
You sniffled, nodding. He’d groveled enough, and you weren’t entirely sure you knew how to stay upset with him for longer than 10 minutes.
“Did you tie the stitch off correctly?” you asked, nodding to the injury that was now covered with gauze.
“Of course.” Frank nodded. You narrowed your eyes at his nonchalant tone.
“Are you sure?”
“No.” He huffed a laugh and pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek.
“Why not?” You giggled, swatting him away.
“Because if this didn’t work, I was going to complain about my awful stitches later and hope my muscles would entice you to forgive me.”
He smirked, and laughter bubbled out of you from deep in your chest. You climbed to your feet, holding your hands out toward him.
“Okay, Mr. Muscles, let me fix it before it really does get uncomfortable.”
He rose to his feet, using the leverage from your hold on his hands to pull you against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he paused, “again.”
“I know, Frankie.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his nose.
“I love you.” he added, smiling.
“Shut up and kiss me, muscles.”
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Black Blue And Bloodily
Gif by me
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Nurse!reader
Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Smut. A little bit of blood. Mentions of violence. Praise kink. Praise kink. Strong praise kink. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Breeding kink. Frank being needy. Dirty talk.
AN: This is so much longer than I planned. I promise it gets better. This took me two days to write but it was so worth it.
Summary: Your use to hearing 'Pete' stumbling around next door, but today is different. Today you find him almost dead at your doorstep. Right when you think things couldn't get any more interesting, it does...
~
You huff frustratedly as your keys drop to the floor from trying to get your door open. Your hands full with grocery bags. You look across the hall to see that Pete's door is open. You don't think much of it, shrugging it off. You finally get your door open. Going straight to your kitchen to sit the bags down on the counter. Starting to put everything away.
Once that is all done. You flop down face first on the couch. Sighing in relief of being off of your feet after standing on them for over 12 hours straight with no break.
Your eyes get heavy as the sleepiness starts to wash over you. Somethings off. Your eyes open at the sound of silence. This is weird. Normally when you get off of your night shift, you always hear some type of commotion coming from across the hall. But your greeted with dead silence. It's so quiet that you could hear a fly in the room. You never know what the man is doing. Rather it's long hours and he gets in at the same time as you, or he is bringing woman home. There is always some type of noise. Now there is nothing. You remember that his door was open when you got home. You can't help but start to worry.
You try to brush it off. It's none of your business. You try to go to sleep. Not even worrying about changing or walking down to your room. But the worry keeps you from drifting into sleep you want oh so badly. There's this feeling building in your gut that something is wrong. It's your 'nurse' instinct. Like a power that comes with your job to know when something is even the slightest bit off.
You stand from the couch. Rubbing your eyes. You hear a bang at your door. Your instantly on high alert. Running to your door. When you open the door and look down at your feet. You're greeted with the sight of Pete passed out, covered head to toe in blood. You drop to your knees. Placing his head in your lap. You place your fingers over his pulse. Luckily his heart is beating, but it's not beating fast.
You stand. Grabbing the under of his arms and dragging him into your apartment. You struggle. Swearing the man is made of stone. You somehow get him on your couch.
"Shit," You mumble under your breath to yourself. You quickly start searching his body. Cutting his clothes off. Looking at what injures he has. You try to stop the questions from running through your mind. You have never seen the man without bruises, now he is barely holding onto life on your couch. It makes you wonder what else there is to him.
~
You somehow manage to sort everything out with work. Making sure to stay home in case he wakes up.
You sit at your table looking over some documents. Doing what work you can at home. You notice Frank moving around. Seeing his eyes start to flicker open and his face growing confused with the different surroundings. You quickly move over to him. Putting on a pair of gloves. His eyes meet yours. Looking at you perplexed.
He tries to raise up, but you put a hand to his chest pushing him back down. "Slow your role. You need to rest. No moving around, okay?" His face softens hearing your nurturing voice and he rests his head against his shoulder. He has no idea what happened. He's not sure if he is even alive right now, he swears he has been met with an angel.
"What happened?" He mumbles.
"You were passed out at my door." You explain. Not looking at his eyes that are glued on you. You stay focused on what you're doing of taking care of him.
You finish. Silence growing in between the two of you as you lean back. Sitting at the edge of the coffee table in front of him.
"Why did you help me?" His voice is groggy and low. His eyes have been searching yours since he woke. Like he is compelled by you. In a trance. All his attention on you.
"Why would you say that? I wasn't going to leave you for dead. It's my nature to help." He smally smiles up at you. His hand dangling from the couch. Coming up to rest on your knee.
"You a doctor?"
"ER Nurse." You correct him.
"Do you mind explaining to me why every time I see you, you are black blue and bloodily?" Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you ask the question you're dying to have an answer to.
He hesitates, but he tells you everything. Explaining that his name isn't Pete, but his name is Frank Castle. That he is the punisher, and that he pissed off the wrong people and got out number by about 50 men. He explained a little bit of his past as to how he got here. Only telling what you need to know. Not getting into detail, and you respect that.
Throughout the day, you go about your work. Checking on him every hour. Talking to him when he is awake. Making sure he doesn't do too much. He tells you how he is fine and how he appreciates it, but he doesn't need the help and that he wants to go back to his apartment.
You stand your ground, telling him that he cannot leave until he is well. His injures are to serve for him to just stand back up and walk away. He is hurt enough that he needs to rest for the next three days at least. You two have gone back and forth. You winning the argument every time.
The next four days pass with ease. But you notice that Frank has something on his mind. Like he wants to say something but not saying it. He is hard to read. So, you don't know.
You sigh angrily. One cut on his ribs being stubborn and not wanting to heal right. And of course, it's the biggest cut on him. "This cut... it's not wanting to heal like the others." You say more to yourself then him.
You look when he doesn't respond. Seeing that his eyes are already on you. Your heart skips a beat at his dark eyes boarded on you. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His lips parted but no words coming out.
"Why doesn't it bother you?" He asks the question he has had on his mind for the past five days.
"I'm a nurse. Remember? I see a lot of things every day." You explain but he shakes his head confusing you.
"No, no, I mean... when I told what I had done. You... didn't seem bothered. I've done terrible things. Awful things and you treat me so... nicely. Why?" He stutters. His hand resting on your knee like every day when you sit in front of him.
"You only kill men, correct?" He nods in response. Watching you carefully, reading you very closely to see if he can find something else that might be there.
"Okay then." You shrug. He looks at you confused.
"That doesn't bother you? What I've done?"
"Well, did they deserve it? Were they terrible men?" He only nods.
You don't say anything. Neither does he. You only look into his eyes. Thinking about how he has you running in circles. The past five days his gaze and cocky remarks have made you flustered. You slap yourself every time he gets to you, trying to pull yourself together. But he seems to pull you back in.
You go to stand, but his hold on your knee stops you. You look at him confused. Seeing his Adams apple bob, his lips parted, and his eyes looking over your body at your scrubs that you're wearing because you had to make a trip to the hospital to sort out a few things early.
His hand moves from your knee up to your lower thigh. Your heart skipping a beat and your breath catching. His touch on your skin smoothing but his eyes say something else as he watches his hand exploring your leg. His gaze lustful on you. His hands keep moving up until he is holding your hip. Lightly squeezing it.
You know you shouldn't. You shouldn't want to kiss him. Your taking care of him. It feels like you're on work hours. Doing this, doing more would feel like breaking the rules. But the heat growing is speaking louder than your thoughts. Your body is talking for you, and you don't like it. Yet, at the same time, it almost feels good to be doing something on the edge. But before you can make any sort of a move, he's doing it for you. Beating you to it. His other hand pulling you down so that he can capture your lips in his.
It surprises you. The sudden move by him. But you quickly relax under his touch. Leaning into the kiss. Your shocked at how soft his lips are. At how gently his hold is. How ruff he is, his whole body scarred, yet his lips are so soft on yours. All the things he's done, his hands are so gently on you. He holds you as if you are a fragile glass piece that could break.
You cup his face. Kissing him softly. You pull away. Your breath heavy. You look at his eyes to him already looking at you, then down to his lips. Seeing how they are pinker and plumber now from where he has kissed you. You know you already pushed it too far. That there is no turning back. So, you kiss him again. This time more needy and not as slowly as before.
He runs his tongue over your bottom lip, and he opens his mouth a little more, letting you slip your tongue in. He moves his hand from the side of your neck to your hip. Holding both of your sides now. He puts you on his lap with ease.
"Frank..." You moan into his mouth. He hums into your lips as a response. He doesn't pull away until you do. "This isn't right. Your hurt. We, we can't do this." You try to control your breathing. Watching him study you.
"It's just a little cut." He tries to kiss you again, but you pull away. You can't believe yourself for allowing yourself to do this. You know better than this. Yes, you want it, but you should have just controlled yourself and not let those stupid beautiful eyes get to you.
"Your hurt. Oh my God..." You mumble. Trying to stand up but he keeps you in place on his lap. His lips coming to yours in hope to stop your nerves.
"Hey, hey, listen to me. I'm alright. Think you can stop nursing for second, huh?" His reassuring words are teasing. Making you laugh. You think about it. At a war with yourself.
"I'm not hurt. Please... you have no idea how long I've wanted this." He tells you after you don't say anything. He brings his lips up to hover over yours. Desperation in his eyes. In his body language as he moves closer to you.
You kiss him. Dragging it out. Keeping his lips on yours. Wanting to never lose the feeling of his kiss. You pull away, "If you start hurting. Even a little bit. We stop. Do you understand? I'll only do this if you promise you'll tell me if you're in pain." Your voice is firm.
"I promise." He kisses you. But instead of kissing your lips, he kisses your neck. Gently placing kisses on you. He stops at your jawline. Starting to suck on the skin. He pulls at your shirt, desperate to see more. Touch more.
You pull away long enough to pull it over your head. Your black laced bra revealed to him. He groans at the sight of you. His cock fully hard now. His hands move up your sides to your back. Unhooking the garment and throwing it to the side. His hands coming up to your breast and his mouth back to your lips. He leans up with you. Sitting up straight against the couch. His hard cock pressed to your clothed pussy. You both moan into each other's mouth. His hands coming up to your pants. Tugging at them. You stand in front of him for him to pull them down. He makes quick work at his pants. Pulling them down, you help. Getting them completely off.
You can't hold back the gasp when you see his size. Seeing how big he is. He pulls you back on his lap. Spraddling your legs around him. Without a word, he has his fingers in-between your folds. His finger quickly finding that sensitive bud. You brace yourself. One hand on his chest and the other on the couch. You can't hold back the moans that escape from your lips.
"Attagirl. So wet," He coos in your ear. Praising you. His finger moving down to your entrance. He pushes one finger in. Watching your face pinch together in pleasure. He keeps pushing until his whole finger is in. He adds another. His two fingers starting to curl and pump in you. You moan his name. Trying to grind your hips into his movement but he holds you still.
He uses his thumb to make circles around your clit. Adding just a little bit of pressure. His fingers curling just right. Between his fingers fucking you and his thumb on your clit, your overwhelmed with pleasure. Never feeling this good.
"That feel goods... doesn't it? My pretty girl." He says just as if he just read your mind. As your climax builds. Seconds away from coming. He stops. Pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. Sucking your wetness off of his fingers.
"Are you okay?" You ask him with concern in your tone. He laughs at you. Kissing your lips. "Never felt better." He lines his cock up with your entrance. You lower yourself down on him. Taking every inch of him. Slowly filling you up.
He bottoms out. Taking all of his cock. You pull up. Moaning, you move your hips back down. Starting to move on his cock. "Attagirl. Just like that. That's it. Take your time. Uh, fuck, uh, you're doing so good." He holds your lower back. One hand coming up to get a handful of your hair.
His words do something to you. You somehow get wetter. His words playing over in your head. You start to go a little faster. Swirling your hips. He groans. Holding you tighter. He looks down. Watching his cock going in and out of you. He groans again.
Using all his strength to let you do it. Fighting the urge to move your hips with his hands and thrust up into you. Fighting the urge to grab you and flip you over so that he is on top fucking you deeper. He controls himself.
"Frank." You moan his name. Kissing him. Your hands rubbing his abs. Your movement on his cock almost teasing. Your lips moving to kiss his jaw. He moves one hand to hold your side. The other on your throat. Lightly squeezing. He can't take it anymore. He wraps his arm around your waist. Flipping you under him. Laying you on the couch. He holds your legs up to wrap around his waist. Pounding into you. His hips thrusting into yours. The new angle, the sudden change of him taking control makes you moan loudly.
"Uh, goddamn. Uh, sweetheart, you feel so good. Such a good girl." He groans into your neck. His thrusts starting to get sloppy as he starts to get closer to coming undone.
His cock twitches. Hitting that spot in you, making you cum. Moaning his name as your climax crashes over you. Your body tensing and your nails dragging down his back. Your climax, his name on your lips, and your nails in his back sends him into his. Thrusting into you harshly, he fills your pussy up with his come. Moaning your name. Your back arched off the couch, your breasts pressed against his bare chest.
He slows down. Stopping, he lays over you. Shifting his weight so he doesn't crush you. He kisses your salty skin. His hand rubbing your side. Coming up and lacing his fingers in yours. You go to get up to clean, but he doesn't budge. He doesn't let you get up.
"Can we just stay like this? Just for a little bit longer?" He mumbles against your chest. You can't help but laugh. Melting in his hold. Using your free hand to play with his wild hair. You kiss his forehead. Continuing to play with his hair. He purrs against you. Leaning into you. He closes his eyes, and your smile grows. Holding him close to you.
#frank castle#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle smut#frank castle x reader#the punisher smut#the punisher#jon bernthal#jon bernthal smut#the walking dead#mcu#marvel#marvel story#marvel cinematic universe#mcu smut#mcu imagine#mcu oneshot#smut#one shot#punisher
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domestic!frank taking your kids to a trunk-or-treat, holding their little hands and leading them to all the different cars, whispering to them to say please and thank you!!
domestic!frank who dresses up in coordinating costumes with you and the kids, never complains about who he has to be and proudly shows off his little family!!
domestic!frank who carries your kids on his shoulders while trick-or-treating around the neighborhood, holding the candy bucket and jokingly telling the child on his shoulders that they’re soooo heavy!!
domestic!frank and trick or treating <333
#frank castle#jon bernthal#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#the punisher#frank castle smut#frank castle oneshot#frank castle fluff#frank castle headcanons#frank castle imagine#frank castle x y/n#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle drabble#jon bernthal x you#jon bernthal fluff#jon bernthal imagine#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal smut#the punisher fic#the punisher smut
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Dull Dates
Request: from an anno from a long time
Prompts: “Can you zip up my dress?”
Word Count: 3785
Warnings: blood, some wounds. lots of sexual tension. bunch of fluff.
Author’s Note: Hello beautiful humans!! I apologize for taking years to come back to writing, but I had a lot going on between college and personal life, but I’m happy to back reading and writing again. I still had my old taglist, I thought it would be best to not tag you, let me know if want to be tagged or added back. Gif is not mine
Dull Dates
God was this date boring, you thought to yourself as you sipped on the glass of wine. Does he ever stop talking about himself? You thought as you nodded your head. You were on a date with the hottest E.R. doctor at Bellevue but god was he dull. You were an E.R. nurse there and you heard how all the other nurses drolled over him, you personally didn’t see it the way they did. Yeah, he was cute but not droll-worthy. Faking a smile and giggle at his joke as you rolled your eyes hoping this so-called date would come to an end soon. Your phone buzzed on the table, you glanced down and saw his name flash across the screen.
Your heartbeat skipped a beat and quickly clearing your throat your gained Robert’s attention. “Excuse me, Robert but I have to go. Emergency.” You stated shaking your phone in your hand.
Robert pulled his phone out, “I didn’t get a call from work though…” his voice trailed off, confused.
“Not a medical emergency Robert…” you paused for a beat, thinking of an excuse “ a family one. I have to go.”
“At least let me take you home.”
“No,” you responded a bit too quickly. “ I’ll be okay. Thank you though.” you recovered, with a smile. You grabbed your jacket, quickly gave Robert a kiss on the cheek, and left the restaurant.
You began the twenty-minute walk back to your apartment when it began to rain. Of course, it would start to rain as you were making your way home. You picked up your pace not because of the rain, but because of what you knew would be waiting at your apartment door when you arrived. A bloody injured Frank Castle. Time always matted when it came to Frank Castle, especially if he was bleeding. You leaned against a lamp post as you slipped off your heels and began to run to your apartment. This was not how you pictured your night going, running barefoot through New York City in the rain was not the first thing you thought of when you got dressed for your date tonight. You took the back allies and side streets to get to your apartment building, that twenty-minute walk was cut down to eleven minutes. You walked up the flights of stairs to get to your apartment, your breathing was hard and heavy. Your lungs and legs felt like they were on fire. But you finally reached your floor, you walked down the hallway to notice the hooded figure leaning against your door. The huffing and puffing of your breathing alerted the figure of your presence. The water was dripping off you onto the floor as you walked over to your apartment door.
The figure shifted to the right to let you open the door, “You know between you and work I don’t have a social life.”
The figure let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan of pain. “What did you do this time Frank?” you asked opening the door and letting you both inside.
Frank waddled into your apartment and across to the dining table, where he hopped up and laid down. You never had anything on that table due to amount of times Frank visited, it turned into a permeant surgical table. You walked in, closing and locking the door behind you. You walked straight into the small bathroom in your apartment to grab your first aid medical bag. You tossed your heels back toward the front door as you made your way over to Frank. You dropped the bag on the breakfast cart you had and tied your wet hair back into a ponytail.
“So what do I get to patch up today, Frank?” you asked trying to get him to talk.
Frank gave you a side grin, “Stab wound and a few bullet holes.”
“Oh so the usual, will you ever stop getting hurt?” you asked as you pulled a pair of gloves out of the bag.
“Only when you stop going out on dates with people who don’t deserve you,” he responded quickly like it bothered him you went on dates.
Your eyes rolled on their own as a smile tugged on your lips and your cheeks began to feel warm. You turned around to face the man laying on your dining table, scissors in hand and gloves on.
A mischievous smirk played on your lips, “You know the deal, Frank.”
“Do you have to cut my shirt off?” he groaned, even though it sounded more like a whine.
“It’s either I cut it off or rip it off.”
“You know I’d love it if you ripped it off, just as long as I get to rip that dress off you later,” Frank said in a husky voice as he gave you a wink.
“You know, if I’d known any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You said smiling, as you cut up the center of his black shirt. You carefully and slowly opened his shirt to reveal the stab wound to his lower abdomen and a gunshot wound on his right shoulder. You looked over the rest of his upper half not seeing anything else.
“You know we should get an x-ray for that shoulder, could have bone damage” you stated.
“It didn’t go that far in, you just have to pull the bullet out and you know how I feel about doctors.”
“Yeah I know, and yet here you are getting stitched up by a nurse…” you said raising an eyebrow up at him, as you began to clean up the stab wound. It looked worse than it really was, blood tends to make things look worse than they are. The blood around the wound was cleaned off, then you moved to clean the actual wound. You pressed the cotton pad with alcohol on the wound. Frank’s muscles tensed when the pad touched the wound.
“I’m sorry” you whispered softly, “you know I have to.” You continued to clean it up even more gently than before. His eyes stayed shut as he hissed in pain, “I know” his voice strained out softly.
You hated seeing his face distort in pain, but you had to continue to patch him up. You had finished up with the two little stitches the stab wound needed when you covered it in gauze and tape. Next on the list of patchwork was that bullet hole in his shoulder, you took a deep breath going to the kitchen for a wooden spoon that you knew you’d need.
You went to the other side of the table, and up near his shoulder so you could work. You held out the wooden spoon in front of his face, “Here bite down on this” you spoke.
“I’d much rather bite you,” he said with a smirk. The pain he previously felt was no longer evident on his face.
“Just bite the spoon. I don’t want the neighbors to hear you scream just yet,” you replied with a wink.
Frank raised his eyebrow up and gave you a side grin. He made eye contact with you as he bit down on the handle of the wooden spoon. You give a slight eye roll, grabbing your phone for added light. You held tweezers in one hand and your phone in the other with the flashlight on. You tried looking into the hole first with the light in hopes of noticing a glint of the bullet, but no luck. You had to go in blind. You gently as possible insert the tweezers and carefully begin to move them around in hopes of finding the bullet. You look over at Frank and see the pain written across his features, but he isn’t making much noise. You know he is doing his best to remain still so you can work. You finally feel a bit of resistance and you heard a light clint of metal against metal. “Found it” you whispered gently.
You used the tweezers to grab the bullet and began to slowly pull it back out the same way it went in, trying not to damage any more tissue or muscle. The bullet was out, and both you and Frank let out a breath that you both seemed to have been holding. Frank’s jaw tighten back up knowing what was coming next. You showed the light over the hole one last time, making sure there weren’t any fragments of the bullet left lodged in. The bullet seemed in tack though.
“You ready?” you asked grabbing the alcohol and taking a deep breath.
Clenched jaw, eyes screwed shut Frank nodded his head. You poured some alcohol from the bottle into the hole with a grimace expression as the muffled screams of Frank escaped his lips. You glanced over at him, your eyes full of sympathy for the man in front of you. You hated doing this to him, causing him pain but you had to in order to patch him up. You then began to stitch up the hole. Frank’s breathing went back to normal as he pulled the wooden spoon from his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” you spoke just above a whisper.
“Why you sorry sweetheart?”
“Cause I’m causing you pain,” your voice replied gently, “and not even the fun kind” you added with a smirk.
Frank let out an exhausted chuckle, “On the contrary there sweetheart, I don’t like it too rough. For example, you in that dress you have on…” he pauses. “I wouldn’t rip it off you…” Frank swallows the lump that sat in his throat. “No, no. I’d take my time. I’d kiss up your arm, across your neck then down across your collarbones all while my hands traveled from your hips up your back to that zipper…” he paused again, as he turned to face you. Your cheeks had turned a shade of red, your hands slightly shook as your heartbeat continued to increase and now you felt a pit in your stomach.
Frank watched your reaction carefully, he noticed the shaky hands and uneven breathing pattern. He knew his words had an effect on you, but he decided that he should let you work. “But I’ll let you finish that story,” he said with a side wink.
You cleared your throat trying to gain back your focus to finish up that last stitch. Then you bandaged up his shoulder. You helped Frank sit back up and you looked him in the eye, “Anything else you need?”
“Yeah… you,” he said casually.
“Besides me, any other injuries?” you asked with a smirk.
“Can you check to see if this bullet grazed my leg or not?” he knew it was just a graze but he wanted to spend more time with you.
“Sure but you know that means I cut your pants,” you stated using your fingers to make a cutting motion.
“Can’t you just take them off instead darling?” Frank pleaded, not wanting to have his pants cut up.
“Alright fine, off the table.”
You helped Frank slip off the table carefully to not rip open any of the stitches you just did. You bit your lip at the man standing in front of you, giving your head a quick shake to focus back on the task. Your hands went towards his waistband with a slight shake in them. You fumbled with the belt and button of his jeans, not due to lack of experience, no it was because it was Frank. After successfully unzipping his pants, you slowly pulled them down. Frank watched your every move carefully, it had been a long time since someone undressed him, let alone someone who looked like you. He did his best to keep his thoughts from traveling, trying not to picture you pinned beneath him on the table he was leaning against. He looked up at the ceiling trying to clear his head, as his pants reached his ankles.
You spoke up, trying not to look up at him now that you were on your knees in front of him, “Whereabouts?”
“Outer right thigh area,” he said monotoned.
“I’m gonna have to move your boxers up.”
“I know,” he gulped.
You took the edge of his boxers in your hand, as you gently pulled it away from his thigh and began to push up. You notice a little blood in the curve of his thigh muscle. Upon further inspection, it seemed to just have been a graze from the bullet. You cleaned up the area and added a small bandage.
“There…” you said clearing your throat, “all done. Unless there is anything else that needs my attention.” You got back to your feet, chest to chest with Frank, giving him a smile.
“Nothing sweetheart,” he said making eye contact and then shifting his gaze down to your lips before bringing it back to your eyes.
Frank thought about what it would be like to kiss you, to undress you the way you did him gently. To have his fingertips brush against your soft skin, just like your soft fingers did; to tell you what he was doing just like you. He found it comforting when you told him what you needed to do, making sure he was okay with everything that was happening. He wished to give you that same comfort. You leaned away from him, as you began to clean up the trash.
You made it into the kitchen where you dropped all the trash into the can as you pulled the used gloves off dropping them in too. You washed up as Frank carefully pulled his pants back on. You turned around to face a shirtless Frank, with his pants hanging loosely around his waist. You watched him, he had always caught you off guard. The beautifully sculpted muscles he had made him look like a Greek god. The scruffy beard that hugged his strong jawline. He was your definition of hot. You tried to not stare too long but Frank noticed as he finished pulling his belt through the last loop, he gave you a smile. He walked over to you, you blinked repeatedly then quickly dropped your face to look towards your kitchen floor. His boots came into your vision, as he placed a fingertip under your chin lifting your face to look up at him. His eyes traveled around your face before landing on your lips, he leaned down towards you slowly. His breath felt warm against your face, and you panicked.
You turned your face out of his path, “Can you unzip me?” you asked, trying to act like you didn’t notice how close you two were to kissing.
He cleared his throat, regathering his thoughts, “Sure.”
Frank brushed your ponytail off to one shoulder as he began to unzip your dress painfully slow. His eyes followed the zipper down your back, stopping just above your hips. He brought his hands back up to the base of your neck to undo the clip. He leaned over your right shoulder, as his hands slid down your arms and gently snaked around your waist.
“Done,” he whispered softly into your ear.
Your heart was pounding hard against your breastbone. You turned your face to meet his, your eyes connected. “Thanks…” you whispered softly. You felt his warm breath fan against your lips. Your eyes drifted down towards his soft-looking lips, then back up to his inviting eyes. You felt the want in the pit of your stomach to lean in and kiss him, but you turned out of his grasp. You looked away and started towards your bedroom.
“I’m gonna change and head to bed.” you said trying to keep a steady voice, “You can stay on the couch if you’d like.”
“I think I’ll head out,” Frank replied in a hardened voice as if he was trying to hold himself together.
You stopped in your tracks at the difference in his voice, you turned back to him. You did your best not to let your voice falter, “Okay, if you need anything you know how to find me.”
Frank turned to look at you when he heard the pads of your feet stop. He looked at you for what felt like forever to him. He watched your lips pull into a soft smile. He simply nodded his head, not trusting his voice anymore. He grabbed his jacket from the table and walked out the door. You watched him, hearing the slight slam of your apartment door.
You continued to walk into your bedroom, slowly closing the door behind you. Back pushed up against the door, you did your best to regain control of your unsteady heartbeat and uneven breathing. Your eyes closed, as images of what just happened swiped through like a movie. You and Frank always teased and flirted while you patched him up, that was nothing new. Your reactions to his flirtatious comments and mannerisms were nothing you weren’t used to. It was how close you two were to kissing, that was new, and new was a bit scary but this was Frank, he made things easy. A long exhale brought you back to reality, you slipped your hand through your tied-back hair. You dropped the dress that had once covered your body to the floor. You slipped into the bathroom and took a warm shower after stepping into a freezing one to clear your thoughts. You got changed into something comfortable for bed, before slipping off to sleep.
The week had gone by with no new visits from Frank, no new text messages, no nothing from the man. But unsurprisingly Robert had asked you out again stating he wanted to finish the date you two started the other night. You had accepted his offer, simply to be kind and in the hope to get the thoughts of Frank out of your mind. Also if you spent the night with Robert it meant you didn’t have to spend it alone with your thoughts.
You were getting ready for the evening, soft music playing through your bedroom. You slipped into a curve-hugging black dress that stopped just above your knee. The sheer black top covered the deep v cut in the solid black material, the sheer also covered the exposed back of the dress. You were reaching for the zipper when a loud knock came on your door. You held the front of the dress against your body as you made your way to the door. The metal of the door handle felt cool as you opened it to come face to face with Frank.
Frank’s eyes widened at you in the dress, he felt his hand ball into a fist as he thought of everyone who get to see you in that dress. He let his eyes wander across your figure, and that dress hugged every inch it covered. He felt his heart stop and start as he tried to pull his eyes up to yours. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking into your eyes.
“Hey Frank,” you said timidly, as you felt slightly self-conscious under his stare.
“Hi sweetheart,” Frank said softly.
“Anything wrong soldier?” you asked trying to gain back the normal confidence you have with him.
“Uhh… nothing physically,” he responded, “Can I come in?”
“Sure” you stepped to the side opening the door more, allowing Frank to slip inside.
As he walked by, you caught the smell of gunpowder, gun oil, and something you couldn’t pinpoint but it was all Frank Castle. You closed the door behind him, as he now stood in the middle of your living space.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.
“Not really,” you replied walking past him towards your bedroom, “just getting ready for a date.”
Frank’s eyes followed you to your bedroom, where your voice sang out from. He cleared his throat, “Lucky guy.”
“Yeah, I guess but he is very dull, sadly.”
“Then why go out on a second date?” he questioned as he leaned against your bedroom door frame.
“Cause the first one was interrupted by someone…” you trailed off, glancing over at Frank. He looked really good, leaning against your door frame. Frank was droll-worthy in your personal opinion.
Frank pretended to be shocked, “Who? Me?” he pushed off the door frame walking towards you, “And here I thought I saved you from a dull date.” He said finally towering over you.
You looked up at him with a smile, “You did, but I do owe him a full date to at least try to be less dull than that first one.”
Frank looked down at you, directly into your eyes. “And when do I get my date with you?” he asked softly.
You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth biting down before you felt a wave of shyness rush over you as you looked down towards the ground. You quickly looked back at him with the heat on your cheeks burning your skin, as you looked back into his eyes, “Are you asking me out on a date Frank?”
“Maybe.”
You turned around facing away from him, you gathered your hair to one side, “Can you zip up my dress for me?”
You felt his left hand gently grab your hip as he pulled the zipper up. His warm grip left, leaving your hip cold against the air of your room. His hands found their way to the base of your neck where the clip of the dress was, securing it into place. He let his hands travel across your shoulders, down your arms leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt his warm body pressed up against you, as his hot breath brushed next to your right ear. His husky voice spoke softly, almost like music into your ear, “Done.”
He stepped away from you, his warmth leaving with him. You turned to face him again.
“You look beautiful,” he breathed out, “Have fun tonight. I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”
He gave you his signature smirk, which he reserved only for you. He turned and walked out of your bedroom leaving you to finish getting ready for a date with someone who wasn’t him.
“Frank,” you called out to him.
He stopped in his tracks, “Yeah?”
“Thank you, and don’t change your plans tonight for me,” you spoke, “I’m sure I can find a different date some other night,” you flirted.
Frank’s back was still towards you, so you didn’t get to see the smile that graced his lips as he walked out of your apartment.
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Taglist:
@uselsshuman
#frank castle#the punisher#the punisher oneshot#frank castle x you#frank castle x reader#frank castle x gender neutral reader#punisher#marvel#marvel one shot#marvel fanfiction#jon bernthal
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You’re the King, baby, I’m your Queen
Jonerys Orgasmic October Day Two
~*~
“I believe the Queen should heed her King when he orders her to do something.”
She straightened, spine turning to shiny steel as she ignored the lust like an iron weight low in her belly to fire back, “I heard no order. And you must be mistaken. This Queen does what she wants.”
His smile was more of a snarl, and she whimpered under the weight of his singular eyes, a spark catching, quick in hot in the black as his hand flexed on her arm.
“Listen closely, Your Grace. Come with me now, or I’ll carry you out. Your choice.”
~*~
Prompt:
Role Play.
#JonerysOrgasmicOctober2023#SnowxStormWorld#jonerys fanfic#smut oneshot#shameless smut#jon x dany#jon x daenerys#jonerys#daenerys targaryen#jon snow#rough smut#fluff and humor#smut and fluff#game of thrones one shot#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfiction#smut fanfiction#romance fanfiction#smutty fanfiction#creative writing#fanfiction#ao3 smut#ao3fic#ao3 link#fanfic#ao3 writer#fanfiction writer#the smuttier the better#daenerys appreciation#daenerys x jon
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𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
word count: 5.4k words
summary: in which you want to get revenge on the people that killed your brother, but you needed frank’s help to do so
warnings: explicit language, death of a loved one, blood/mentions of violence, angst, implied smut
author’s note: i was working on this on and off for the past maybe three months (going through that never ending cycle of gaining inspiration and then losing it). and i’m so happy that it’s final done! and i really love how it turned out!! hope y’all enjoy<333 (full folklore series here!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝and there's nothin' like a mad woman. what a shame she went mad. no one likes a mad woman. you made her like that.❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
“Y’sure you don’t want to just stay here?”
Frank’s question didn’t surprise you, but that didn’t change how annoyed you immediately felt by it.
“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” You were quick to tell him, and you firmly buckled your seatbelt to show him how serious you were. “Especially because you’re only doing this for me.”
“I’ve done worse things.”
It was hard to rebuttal Frank’s statement because you knew exactly how true it was, but you still said something. “I’m coming.”
Frank only nodded his head at your words before finally beginning to drive the car the two of you were sitting in.
If it were a year ago, you would’ve actually understood Frank’s hesitance toward you coming because, in comparison to who you were now, you were completely different then. And sometimes, it surprised you how vastly your life had managed to change in just twelve months.
However, if it was also a year ago, you wouldn’t have needed Frank in the first place.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝now i breathe flames each time i talk. my cannons all firin' at your yacht. they say, "move on", but you know, i won't.❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Five Weeks Earlier
The pain in your wrist was what woke you up.
A part of you felt upset because every other night, the sleep you had been getting in your motel room located in the middle of nowhere Illinois was shitty, but the deep state of rest that you’d found yourself in that specific night actually felt really good.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was Frank Castle sitting across the room in the creaky wooden chair that you hated.
“Jesus Christ,” You said, shooting upward in surprise, and from the tug of your arm, you noticed why your wrist was hurting in the first place; it was handcuffed to the headboard. “What the hell?”
Frank dismissed your previous statements and instead leaned forward in the chair, squinting at you. “You’ve been following me for the past two weeks. Why?”
You mentally kicked yourself because, apparently, you hadn’t been as discreet as you thought you’d been. However, the man in front of you was Frank Castle, so it probably would’ve been more surprising if he didn’t notice you.
You took a moment to truly think about how to respond to him. The next words that you would say would be the most important, and you knew that this was essentially your “make or break” moment with him. That was why you had only been mildly stalking him for the past few weeks instead of approaching him at any of the places you had followed him to. Because you couldn’t figure out the best way to actually talk to him. What you wanted, needed, from him was so important to you, and you couldn’t risk screwing it up.
After Frank stared at you as you took what felt like hours to think of what to tell him, you settled on simply saying, “I want your help.”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and his head cocked slightly to the side. “Who are you?”
It sounded like a fairly easy question he was asking you. But you knew that it wasn’t; he wanted more than just you simply responding with your name.
“Eight months ago, my brother was murdered,” You started and then stopped immediately. Those words still felt so foreign falling from your lips. “He got involved with this fucked up group of people that he thought were his friends at first, but then they wanted him to do a bunch of illegal shit; robberies, drug deals, kidnappings, pretty much any horrific thing you could think of. And when he tried to get out, to leave, they killed him.”
You left out the part about how you had been so close to getting him out of it all. That days before Jackson was supposed to board a flight to where you lived in Seattle, they shot him and left him for dead in the middle of a park.
You also didn’t tell Frank that sometimes you couldn’t help but blame yourself because you had left him alone in New York. Even though when you got your job in Washington, Jackson had begged you to go because he knew how much you had wanted the job and to get away from New York. The city that took your parents and left you as the only guardian of your brother since you were sixteen and he was five.
But that still didn’t stop you from blaming yourself. For not forcing him to come with you when you got the job, to get a fresh start like you wanted in a completely new place, sooner. Even though he was twenty and could make his own decisions, he was still your little brother, and you always wanted to protect him.
You didn’t say any of that to Frank, though, because you knew it wasn’t needed. That information wasn’t important to the task at hand.
Instead, you said, “And I found them. Exactly where they are in New York. What they’re doing right now, and what they’re planning to do. But I need your help. I know who you are and what you do, and I want those people that killed my brother dead. And you’re the only person that could possibly care and help me with that.”
Frank was silent once you finished speaking and your explanation just lingered in the air of the motel room. It was then, in that moment of quiet, that you were reminded of how badly your wrist was feeling.
“So,” You decided to break the prevailing silence. “Can you help me?”
Instead of answering your question, Frank posed a few of his own. “How do you know where these guys are? How do you know anything about them?”
Frank’s lack of a response to your very important question didn’t worry you. In fact, a part of it made you inwardly smile. Because he wasn’t saying no to you, at least not yet, and that gave you all the hope you needed at that moment.
“I work with computers; I.T., data analysis, it feels wrong to say hacking because of its negative connotation, but yes, that too,” You began explaining, happy to tell Frank what you had decided to look into a few months ago when your grief morphed from intense sadness to anger. “And these guys are idiots. It took me less than an hour to get into my brother’s phone, get these guys’ numbers, and find every single piece of information about the shit they’re doing. I tracked the warehouse that they’re set up at outside of Long Island, and I got into all of their phones, so I know every single text message and call they’re making at any time.”
Frank studied you for a moment, almost as if he was trying to see how honest you were being. “I wanna see.”
“It’s all on my laptop. In my bag, on the table by the door,” You responded quickly, and Frank was quick to reach into your bag and hand your laptop over to you. You gestured your head in the direction of your wrist that was still cuffed to the headboard. “Could you take the handcuff off?”
Frank nodded as he pulled a key out of his back pocket and finally unlocked the handcuff, taking it off your wrist. You almost immediately began rubbing it, trying to ease away some of the pain.
“It’ll be bruised for a bit, but it should stop hurting after a day or two.”
You didn’t say anything in response to that, although you did appreciate Frank’s words. Instead, you opened up your laptop and began pulling up the information that he wanted to see.
As he looked at your computer, you abruptly said, “Thank you.”
Frank shook his head at you. “I haven’t said yes. That I would help you.”
You simply nodded understandingly at his words. However, there was a certain look of intrigue on his face as you showed him everything you knew about your brother’s murderers that told you otherwise.
He didn’t have to say it aloud, and a part of you thought he might never actually say it out loud, but it didn’t matter because Frank Castle was going to help you. That was something you knew for certain.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝i'm takin' my time. takin' my time. 'cause you took everything from me.❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
It was nearing eleven when you and Frank pulled up across the street from the warehouse that housed the people that killed your brother.
A part of you felt nervous knowing what was going to happen, but the other part of you felt happy that something completely justified was about to occur.
“They’re all in there, right?”
You looked down at your laptop, which currently showed the pinpointed locations of the cellphones of everyone involved.
Apparently, from the text messages and phone calls you had been monitoring, there was an important meeting happening right then about the next robbery they were planning.
“Yes, they’re all there and have been for the last thirty minutes.”
“Okay,” Frank responded. “Then it’s time.”
You nodded and shut your laptop before placing it in the backseat. When you turned your attention back toward Frank, you noticed a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher, but for some reason, it worried you.
You almost asked him what was wrong, but he grabbed your arm before you could mutter out the first word of the question and handcuffed your wrist to the steering wheel. You were too in shock about what was happening that you couldn’t even put up a fight against him.
“Frank, what the hell are you doing?”
“Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago?”
You knew exactly what he was talking about, but you didn’t allow yourself to acknowledge it right then. “I don’t care about the conversation. Uncuff me, Frank.”
“I’m not gonna do that,” He shook his head at you. “Instead, I’m gonna go inside that warehouse, handle this for you, and then come back out. Okay?”
“No.”
None of this conversation truly felt real to you. The plan that you had curated with Frank over the past weeks felt like it was going completely down the drain. And although sometimes, deep down, you thought maybe you’d be the one to bail out and change things up at the last second, instead, it was Frank forcing you to do so, and you couldn’t believe it.
He didn’t respond to your one-word protest and instead opened the driver’s seat door.
There felt like there wasn’t really any hope that Frank would change his mind, but you couldn’t allow yourself not to try at least once more.
“Please, let me go in there with you. I want to do this.”
He only looked at you for a moment before saying, “No, I’m not letting you do this. You’re a good person, and doing this will change that. As much as you think it won’t change you, it will. And I’m not gonna allow that to happen. So, just let me handle this for you.”
You didn’t get another chance to protest because Frank stepped out of the car before you could say anything.
He was protecting you, and you knew that. But, it also felt like after over a month of knowing one another, he still only saw you as weak, as someone that needed saving.
And that made you angry because you never wanted him to save you; you just wanted him to help you. You truly wanted to fight your own battle and hurt the people that hurt your brother, and he took that opportunity away from you.
As you heard the trunk pop open and Frank reach for the guns that he put back there, two of which were supposed to be yours, you couldn’t help but think back to the conversation he had been referring to only moments ago.
There was a certain thing he said during the minor argument that happened during that conversation, and thinking about it right then, with your wrist uncomfortably handcuffed to the steering wheel, it finally made you realize that maybe you should’ve seen all of this coming.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back? they strike to kill, and you know i will. you know i will.❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Three Weeks Earlier
You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was something worse about the motel room in Long Island than the one in Illinois.
The smells there were far worse than what you’d experienced in Illinois, but there was something else too, something that you couldn’t fully decipher.
Maybe it was simply the place itself. You were back in New York, the city that took your parents and your brother too, and you truly hated being there. It no longer felt like any sort of “home” to you, and it hadn’t in a really long time.
However, knowing what you were doing there and what was soon to come made the smallest part of you feel good about being there. And you had Frank too, as both quiet and annoyingly bossy as he was.
“Why are we waiting so long?” You had asked him one night as the two of you sat opposite one another at a diner.
“Waiting is good. Waiting lets us know exactly what we’re up against. The guys may be idiots about keeping their shit off of computers, but they might be smart about other things,” Frank explained as he adjusted the hat on his head that he was using as part of a disguise. A part of you couldn’t help but reluctantly agree with his words. “Also, you need as much target practice as you can get. You’ve gotten better in the past week, but you’re still pretty bad.”
You felt absolutely offended by the statement but still knew that he was completely right. However, that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at him and dryly saying, “Thanks for the words of encouragement.”
“You’ll be ready when the time comes.”
You didn’t thank him for the actual words of encouragement and instead just took a bite from one of the last few fries on your plate.
The ending of that conversation left you feeling the tiniest bit hopeful, glad that Frank seemed as if he believed in you and that the two of you were actually a team in all of this.
However, on a different night, only a few days later, the conversation had been much different.
“Doing this won’t take the pain away,” Frank had told you. He was sitting at the foot of the double bed that was closer to the door, and you were in the other with your back against the headboard. The tiny television was on and playing reruns of Friends, as it probably had been all day. Your head immediately turned in Frank’s direction when you heard his abrupt words and as he continued speaking. “At the end of the day, he’ll still be gone.”
“I know,” You said, the two words coming out a bit sharper than you meant for them to. You cleared your throat. “But that doesn’t mean his murderers should continue to run free and keep doing severely fucked up shit.”
“I agree, but I wanted to tell you, so you can make sure you understand what you’re gonna do.”
“I know,” You told him. This time your voice was softer as you said the same two words.
“You’re a good person. Doing this, killing people, can change that.”
“You are too.”
“I’m not a good person.”
“I don’t believe that.” You were quick to shake your head. “You’re helping me. For absolutely no reason. There’s gotta be some good in you, Castle.”
He bypassed your statement. “Just think about this, okay?”
“My mind is already made up and has been for the past four months,” You told him before getting under your blanket and then turning on your side, facing away from Frank. You weren’t the least bit tired right then, but you were happy to pretend to bring an end to the conversation.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝what do you sing on your drive home? do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"?❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Over the next three weeks, that conversation never came up again, so you thought that Frank ultimately stood by your decision.
However, you were wrong. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that just yet.
Yes, you were mad at Frank, but you couldn’t allow yourself to hate him until you heard a good enough explanation as to why he wanted to do this without you. And not one that solely consisted of him calling you a “good person” because that sounded like a bullshit cop-out to you.
It wasn’t long after Frank slammed the trunk shut and walked toward the warehouse that you heard the faint sound of gunshots. The sound startled you, even though you knew that it was coming, and you hated that the smallest, smallest part of you was glad that you weren’t in there.
And that felt like a betrayal to not only yourself but especially your brother.
You tried hard to push away the thoughts you knew would come next. The thoughts that you had successfully buried deep down for the past month you’d been with Frank. They were the thoughts that told you that you were to blame for what happened to your brother and that you should’ve tried harder to save him. When you thought about it long enough, the pain you felt from his death still felt fresh.
You suddenly felt insanely claustrophobic, and you started yanking your handcuffed wrist hard in efforts to get yourself freed from the steering wheel. Of course, that did nothing but only hurt your wrist even more. However, you didn’t care because at least trying to do something at that moment felt better than wallowing in silence and crying as you thought about your brother.
Barely twenty minutes later, you heard the sound of the trunk opening again. You hadn’t been paying attention to the sounds of the gunshots anymore, instead successfully dissociating yourself from the moment entirely, so you hadn’t noticed when they stopped, and hearing the trunk right then surprised you.
You roughly wiped at your cheeks, which were unsurprisingly wet with tears, because some things you couldn’t push away, as you heard the trunk slam shut. And then moments later, you heard the driver’s side door open, and Frank get inside.
He uncuffed your wrist without saying a word and especially didn’t say anything about the bruises already forming on your skin; from your pointless attempt to break free. He looked at your face— well, only the side of it, since you were staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with him— and he didn’t say anything about the fact that he could tell you’d been crying.
Instead, he just started driving.
You allowed yourself to take one quick glance at him, and right when you did, you knew that the sight of him with blood all over his clothes and face would never leave your mind. You silently wondered how much of it was his own.
Instead of asking, you turned your head and decided to stare out the window as Frank drove back to the motel.
“Don’t be fucking mad, okay?” He finally broke the prevailing silence after about five minutes. “It’s done and over now, and that’s what you really wanted, right?”
“Thank you,” You told him, words completely sincere, and you hoped your next ones came out the same exact way. “But, also, fuck you, Frank.”
He didn’t say anything in response to that, and you didn’t necessarily want him to, so it was a win-win situation in your eyes. Silence prevailed once again, and you continued to look out the window.
“There was no reason for you to come in too,” Frank finally spoke. “It was seven guys. I’ve handled more than that, and smarter ones than that, before. Too many times to fucking count.”
“That’s not the point,” You responded and then sighed, not having the energy to explain yourself further.
“Then what is the point?” Frank asked and then huffed when you didn’t say anything after a few moments. “Exactly.”
You let out a long breath before speaking. “I wanted to see them get what they deserved. I wanted to see them pay for what they did to him. That’s the point.”
Frank abruptly pulled the car over and looked at you. “So, what? You wanna go back? You wanna go see their lifeless bodies?”
You met his glare with a harsh look of your own and tilted your head a bit. “And what if I said yes?”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you. “It doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t say yes. You don’t have the stomach for that shit. As much as you keep trying to convince yourself otherwise, you’re not this kind of person.”
“You act like you know me, Frank, but you don’t. Like, how you keep spewing this shit about how I’m a ‘good person.’ Well, I’m fucking not.” You wanted to scream that at him, but you didn’t, and instead pulled your eyes away from his and went back to staring straight ahead at the empty road. “And you want to know how I know that? Because what happened to Jackson is my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
You almost didn’t respond to him, but ultimately you did. “I left him, and he fell in with that group of people that hurt him. I should’ve forced him to leave the city when I did. But I didn’t. And I truly hate myself for that.”
That was the first time that you admitted out loud how much you blamed yourself for your brother’s death. And hearing the words finally fall from your lips made them feel even truer to you, and it also made your last sentence feel a thousand times more right as well.
You sincerely did not want to hear Frank say anything in response to any of what you had just said, and instead, you wanted the conversation to end there. He must have read your mind because he didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive back to the motel.
When he pulled into the parking lot, you stayed in the car as he exited and went to walk inside the room. He didn’t question you about what was going on in your head, which you were grateful for.
You sighed and let your eyes slip shut. A part of you wanted to cry, but the other part of you felt too empty and numb, so ultimately, you just sat in the car in silence.
It almost pained you to realize how right Frank was.
Now that this was done— you got your “revenge”— it changed nothing for you. Jackson was still gone, you were still hurting, and it wasn’t only that you lost him; you lost the final person in your family. Now you had no one.
Although you already felt pretty numb, you sincerely craved a drink of anything, and the liquor store down the road suddenly sounded like a really good idea. But, instead, you walked into the motel room and could immediately hear the sound of the shower running. When you closed the door behind you and locked it, you planned to force yourself to sleep and hope tomorrow would bring better feelings, even though you were unsure what you would do next.
However, when you saw the bathroom door open and heard Frank say the words, “I need your help,” you knew that you probably wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon.
He only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and if this was any other moment, you would’ve allowed yourself to admire his body and how good he looked, a fact that never had been lost on you. However, all you could process was the gash on his hip, where you could tell a bullet had grazed him.
“You’re bleeding,” You said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah, that’s why I need your help,” He responded and then looked down at the open wound, examining it for a second. “It’s actually pretty deep so I need you to stitch me up.”
You hesitantly nodded and then went to grab the first aid kit that was packed in your suitcase and went over to where Frank was standing by the sink.
“I’ve never done this before, so it is probably going to look very bad,” You told him before bending down to start stitching him up.
He shrugged halfheartedly and glanced down at you for a brief moment. “It’s fine.”
You gave him a small nod and then pushed away the nausea you were already feeling because you had to do this.
For the first time that night, you felt like things were too quiet, and the sounds of Frank’s soft winces as the thin needle pierced his skin didn’t fill the silence in a way that made things feel any sort of comfortable.
Therefore, you decided you had to say something. “You were right.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments, so you took that as your cue to keep going.
“The pain hasn’t gone away. And honestly, it might feel a bit worse than before; I am not entirely sure yet.” The fact that you weren’t looking Frank straight in the eyes as you spoke made it easy for you to continue to ramble on and say the things that you wouldn’t have told him, or anyone, any other time. “He was the last person I had, and now I have no one. And now that this is over, that fact just feels much more solidified. So yeah, you were right, and I’m glad I wasn’t in there with you. And honestly, maybe none of this shit you did for me really mattered in the first place. I don’t feel angry about it anymore. I just feel so fucking sad.”
There was more you could say, but you knew that you needed to stop there before you turned into a sobbing mess on the white-tiled floor.
“I didn’t wanna be right.” Frank finally spoke, and you stayed quiet, not saying anything more as you finished stitching him up.
“You’re done,” You told him before standing up and purposely avoiding his eyes. “And I need alcohol, so I’ll be right back.”
Frank furrowed his eyebrows at you as he went to slip on a black t-shirt. “Are you sure about that?”
You didn’t turn around as you walked toward the door. “Positive.”
Of course, you knew it was a bad idea, and maybe you should’ve noticed the wary look on Frank’s face directed at you, but right then, you didn’t really care.
Your journey to and from the liquor store down the street surprisingly took less than twenty minutes, and when you entered the motel room again, you didn’t waste any time unscrewing the bottle of dark tequila and taking a swig from it.
Usually, it took at least four shots for you to effectively feel something; even in college, your tolerance for alcohol had been good. However, this night you only needed to take two shots for your mind to feel fuzzy. You chalked it up to the fact that you had already felt pretty numb inside.
After your many persistent requests, Frank joined you and took small swigs from the bottle as well. The two of you sat at the foot of the bed that was his and traded the tequila back and forth as an old sitcom played on the small television, and a silence that you didn’t mind took over.
“You’ll be fine eventually,” Frank abruptly said as he placed the top on the bottle and put it on the floor, an action that you didn’t protest because you knew that it was definitely for the best. “It won’t hurt forever.”
Without much thinking, mainly because your brain couldn’t allow you to do a lot of thinking, you leaned your head against Frank’s shoulder and hoped that he would also be right about that because, quite honestly, you were tired of feeling sad.
“I truly hope so,” was what you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t form the words on your lips. However, you still wanted to somehow show him that you appreciated his words.
You pulled your head off of his shoulder and turned closer toward him to let your lips softly press against his cheek. The proximity was dangerous, and it was in that moment that you let yourself recognize how attractive Frank was; a thought that had been off limits from the second you decided you wanted his help to kill your brother’s murderers because you knew that thinking about him in that way would only pull your mind away from the task at hand. But, now, the task was over.
Therefore, you allowed yourself to think about the stubble on his cheek and how it tickled your chin and made you want to smile. And you also thought about how nice he had always been to you, even when he showed it to you in a shitty way.
He might not have seen himself as a good person, but to you, he was.
You allowed yourself to meet his eyes for a brief moment, unable to read his expression, before letting your lips slot against his. You immediately tasted the tequila on his mouth, which sent a shiver down your spine but also warmed your insides.
For some reason, kissing Frank at that moment didn’t feel wrong to you, and you could tell by the way that Frank’s hand found your cheek and pulled you the tiniest bit closer to him that maybe it didn’t feel wrong to him either.
You slowly pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and maneuver yourself, with the help of Frank’s hands on your waist, so that you were straddling either side of his lap. When your lips found his again, you let your fingers thread themselves in his short hair. It was both slightly surprising and flattering to feel how hard he was beneath you, and the feeling made you moan in his mouth.
Abruptly, Frank pulled away, and your confused eyes met his gaze as he softly said, “You’re sad and drunk right now.”
Both things he said were very true, but that didn’t mean that you wanted any of this to stop.
“It’s okay. I promise,” You told him and started to slowly move against him. However, both of Frank’s hands found your hips and halted you. You sighed before letting out a soft, “Please.”
You hated how desperate you sounded at that moment, but you couldn’t help it. For once, you didn’t want to think about anything, and you wanted Frank to do the same.
He simply looked at you and didn’t say anything for a few moments. You could tell that he was contemplating things, but the fact that he hadn’t moved you off of his lap yet gave you a small sliver of hope.
“It’s okay,” You told him again and hoped you could convey to him how entirely true those words were. You knew that you wouldn’t regret this, even once your mind was fully cleared and devoid of alcohol.
He didn’t verbally respond to you and instead pressed his lips against yours, which was a response you liked better anyway. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before matching his intensity with your own and passionately moving your mouth against his.
It didn’t take long for you to end up with Frank on top of you, clothes still on but wildly anticipating the moment they weren’t anymore.
For once, something actually felt okay in your life, and you couldn’t remember the last time that was true. Since your brother died, you felt lost; and perhaps even before then, that feeling wasn’t too far off.
It worried you thinking about what was next; even the thought of tomorrow scared you, knowing that somehow you’d have to go back to a life that was normal. But you didn’t want to think about that too much because doing so scared and confused you.
As Frank peppered harsh kisses against your neck, leaving marks that would definitely be there for the next few days, you knew that there was one thing that remained certain. At that moment, you wanted him, and he wanted you. Even if it would be just for the night.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
❝and you find something to wrap your noose around. and there's nothin' like a mad woman.❞
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x oc#frank castle fluff#frank castle smut#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle imagine#frank castle angst#frank castle oneshot#frank castle x you#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle x y/n#frank castle x female reader#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal smut#frank castle#the punisher
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The Country Air Effect - PlatitudinalTeen - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
I uploaded the one shot everyone voted on!
Summary- (When the manor is infested with termites, Bruce and several of the kids have to stay with the Kent's while their home is being fumigated. Fitting everyone under the same roof isn't easy, but they make it work by having the kids share rooms. When Tim is forced to share a room with Damian and Jon, he was naturally worried about being stabbed in his sleep. He didn't realize he also had to worry about watching his little brother crawl into bed with his best friend once they thought he was asleep.)
#writing#ao3#archive of our own#ao3 author#batfamily#cassandra cain#duke thomas#tim drake#conner kent#jon kent#damian wayne#jondami#lois lane#clark kent#oneshot#fluff
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