#the punisher fanfiction
Text
Let me handle it.
Frank Castle x F!Reader
summary: After a long day at work you FINALLY get home and Frank decides to offer some help with redirecting your frustrations.
warnings: strong language, explicit language, explicit content, pet names, praises, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex.
word count: 3.8k
an: Hey heeey, me again...trying to get out of my writers block LIKE ALWAYS! I stg there isnt a fic on this blog that isn't my attempt to try and get back into writing but anyway. This was just something short and sweet I wanted to get out to hopefully get the gears moving again. Let me know what you think! I know the ending feels a bit rushed but I hope its alright. Reblogs and feedback appreciated as always! Hope you'll enjoy!
OH and of course, thank you @chelseasdagger for helping with this one and im tagging @lucy-sky cause she requested that!
You push the front door open and sigh loudly at the sight of your apartment. The 8 hours of work felt particularly long today, and you swear at some points you weren't really sure if 5pm was actually going to come after all. The tiredness fills every inch of your body to the point that some parts actually, physically hurt as you get your coat and boots off before making your way over to the living room.
“There she is.”
Frank sits on the big couch in front of the TV, his ‘work’ clothes still on, so you assume it hasn’t been long since he got back as well. He looks better than you feel, though, one leg on the floor, the other propped up on the small coffee table. The TV remote is still in his hands, but you notice how he turns the screen off the second he notes your presence.
Looking up at the sound of his voice, you do your best to smile in response, but the content expression fails to reach your eyes, and you turn your gaze back to the wooden floor before answering.
You mumble a quiet greeting under your nose and walk past the couch, past him and into the small now, thank god, dark bedroom.
Frank frowns, turning his head as he watches you cross the living room and disappear behind the bedroom door. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something is clearly off. It’s not like you two cling to each other the second you step through the front door, but he knows something about the way you act today just doesn't feel how it should feel. He grunts, pushing himself up from his spot on the couch, and makes his way over to the bedroom.
Back in the small room, you attempt to get rid of your work clothes as fast as possible, longing for the simple yet unmatched comfort of one of Frank’s basic t shirts. You pick the one laying by the end of the bed, the one you knew he currently slept in, and softly pull the work shirt up and off over your head before ditching your bra too and tossing it off to the side. You can't be bothered to clean it up, not right now, probably not tonight. With the t shirt now on, you sit at the foot of the bed.
A loud sigh exits your body as you attempt to take your pants off, but for some reason, the task proves harder than it would be on any other day. You fight with the fabric for another moment, frantically waving your legs back and forth with no avail before hiding your face in your hands, ready to dig the nails into your flesh with all the pent-up frustration of the week.
“You need help with that?”
You drag your fingers down your face and turn to face him.
Frank stands in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he leans onto the door frame, and you hope he wasn't here long enough to witness your meltdown.
“I don’t… know.”
You admit, the overwhelming frustration wins over the slight embarrassment of the previous moment.
Frank nods before pushing himself away from the door frame. He walks over to the bed without a word, and before you can try to explain yourself, you watch him get down on one knee in front of you with a grunt.
“Alright.”
He mumbles softly, fully kneeling in front of you now. Holding your calf softly in one hand, he pulls the fabric of your pants down your leg before switching to the other one. You watch silently as he gets rid of the clothes for you before tossing them off to the side, to be dealt with at some point during the week.
“That better?”
He asks softly, and you nod, your body relaxing at the sensation of his fingers brushing up and down the back of your calves softly.
“Work?”
He asks carefully, feeling the need to figure out what was wrong, but not wanting you to have to think about it again.
Closing your eyes, you sigh softly and nod once more, confirming his previous suspicion.
“Want me to go out there…make sure this shit is sorted?”
The question makes you chuckle, and you breathe out a quiet laugh as your eyes find his again. He never looked away from you.
“You gonna go beat the shit out of my boss?”
You finally speak up, pushing your fingers through Frank’s short hair, feeling it prickle your skin slightly as you do so. The familiar feeling somehow grounds you in the moment as you feel more present than before.
Frank scoffs at your words, looking off to the side for a second before turning back to face you. That god-damn cocky smile makes you smile back at him almost instantly.
“That what you want?”
He moves his hands up, fingers now brushing over your thighs as he pushes forward slightly, you spread your legs open some more to fit his wide frame between them.
“I mean if you’re offering.”
You joke, and he breathes out through his nose quickly, shaking his head with a semi playful smile.
“Yeah, okay, you got it, kid.”
He mumbles before leaning down to press a kiss onto your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let out a quiet hum, the wet warmth of his lips present on your skin for a long couple of seconds before he finally pulls away.
“How ‘bout I make you feel good? Hmm? That sounds okay?”
His voice rumbles through your body as he moves closer to you and the bed, gently lifting your one leg up and over his shoulder before he does the same with the other one.
“Fuck.”
You start, already feeling how your body begins to react to him, the warmth between your legs slowly growing more prominent.
“You don't understand how much I’d love that right now, I just…”
He stops, stops immediately and waits to hear you out.
“I’m too fucking tired to move, Frankie.”
“Who says you gotta do anythin’?”
The way he answers makes it feel like the most obvious thing in the universe, like how he doesn't understand how you could've thought of it in any other way than him giving you all he can offer.
“Shit, you think I’m gonna make you ride it or something?”
He looks up at you from where he's kneeling by the bed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, as if he genuinely can not believe you’d think that.
“Think I’m gonna make you get on your knees? Suck me off and tell you you’re doing a good job, hmm? That what you think?”
You laugh, shaking your head, knowing he would never make a situation like this about himself. Yeah, you two enjoyed it when things got rough during sex, and you enjoyed ordering Frank around just as much as he did with you, but you both also understood the timing and feeling of this situation. You knew not everything always worked the same, and so did Frank. “If you did, you’d get a fucking knee to your stomach, you got that?”
You state and Frank scoffs once again.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh before helping you slide your legs off his shoulder.
“Alright.”
He starts after pushing himself off the floor.
“Lay down, kid, show me how you want it.”
He gestures to the bed, and you give him a big, bright smile for the first time since getting home from work. Turning your back to him, you climb up to the top of the bed before dropping onto one of the big pillows. With a satisfied groan, you bury your face into the soft fabric and close your eyes for a second before pulling one of your legs up, bending it at the knee. The movement causes the fabric of Frank’s shirt to slowly slide down the slope of your back, exposing both your panties and your ass to the man standing at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah? Like that?"
He asks in that deep, groggy voice, and you nod, rubbing your cheek against the pillow without bothering to open your eyes as you do so.
“Alright.”
He mumbles, and you feel the mattress dip under the weight of his body after a moment. You listen to your body, to its needs and wants, and push your ass out slightly towards him with a quiet, innocent moan.
Frank scoffs loudly, shaking his head as he climbs over you, his arms propped up on either side of your body as he holds himself up above you.
“Thought you were too tired to pull that shit.”
He points out in a teasing manner, and you crack one eye open slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling up into a playful smile.
“Oh no, I’m never too tired to be a pain in the ass to you.”
You mumble, somewhat to him, somewhat into the fabric of the pillow, before he breathes out a small laugh and leans down to press a kiss right on your shoulder. You watch as the muscles in his arm tense when he's pushing himself up again.
“Yeah, okay, you gonna let me do this or do you want to keep being an ass?”
You grin at the word and glance back at him, but he cuts you off before you manage to say anything.
“Don’t, do not fucking answer that.”
You laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly turns into a deep grunt when Frank pushes his hands against your ass. You feel his fingers digging into your body when he squeezes you tight, and you lift your hips up slightly, pushing into his touch.
“Yeaaah, s’what I thought, you like that?”
You hum softly and hope it’s enough of an answer as the firm grip on your body disappears for a second, just to come back a moment later.
“I got you now, kid, s okay."
He grumbles, pushing your legs apart some so he can sit in between them, right behind your ass. Pushing the hem of your shirt up, he gently brushes his fingers over your back. His hands make their way to the sides of your body, fingertips brushing up and down your ribs for a moment, and you let out a loud sigh.
“That’s it, good girl, again.”
You repeat the deep breath in and a calm exhale, allowing him to lead you through this, this one time. Dragging his hands lower and lower down your body, Frank works his fingers over your skin. The firm but gentle sensation of his touch spreads from your back and sides to your ass, then lower onto the back of your thighs and then calves when he reaches his arm behind his back.
“Mmmm, Frankie”
Your hips push up once again when his thumbs dig into the spot right under your ass, and he breathes out a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.”
You don’t have to explain it to him, he knows how to read your body. Slowly dragging his thumb over the fabric of your panties, he slips his four other fingers between your legs, cupping your pussy over your underwear.
You whine quietly, your eyes still closed as he begins to draw small circles against your most sensitive spot, the tension in your body releasing into his touch.
Humming quietly, you snuggle into the pillow, letting yourself fully relax now as the stress of the day leaves with your satisfied hum.
“Yeah? This what you like? Hmm?”
You push yourself back into his hand, leaning harder into his touch as an answer, and Frank tightens his hold onto you in response. The intensity of the sensation rises as he pushes his fingers harder against you.
The tired, but honest smile on your face indicates how good of a job he’s doing. Well, that and the way the fabric of your underwear dampens more as the minutes pass by.
“Frank-“
You mumble out quietly, reaching your hand behind your back and hooking your fingers under the hem of your panties.
His touch disappears immediately as he pulls his hands away from your body, letting you dictate exactly what happens.
He watches you fiddle with the fabric for a moment before you quickly tug it down your thighs and assists once it gets stuck behind your ass.
“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, show me what you want.”
You push your ass up slightly with an inpatient sigh once he slides the fabric down past your ankles and tosses it off to the side.
Once again, his big, warm hands find their way to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he takes a moment to massage your muscles in your back, and then you feel him push the fabric up higher to tend to your shoulders as well. Feeling the bulge between his legs press into your ass the second he leans down to trace the back of your neck with his lips, you hum satisfied, eyes still closed, lips curled up into a smile.
“Really, Frankie? That much?”
You tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head with a sly smirk still on.
“Yeaaah yeah, shut up.”
He starts before leaning back down, his lips right by your ear this time. His hand pushes down between your legs, touching you directly now, and you know he can feel your body’s response to the whole thing.
“Really, kid? This much?”
You huff out a laugh as a response and reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his wrist and keep his hand in place.
“Not like it's my fault.”
You mumble quietly and hear Frank’s chuckle from behind you.
“Okay, calm down, just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
“I want to feel good.”
“Yeah?”
You nod.
“Want me to make you feel good, baby?”
Another nod before you feel Frank’s hand push under your body and cup your chest firmly. His thumb brushes over your nipple as his lips brush down your spine, over your back. Feeling your body slow down, you allow yourself to relax properly as the warm, familiar feeling grows stronger between your legs.
He pushes his hand right there again, touching you right where you long for it the most.
“Mhmmm.”
You hum quietly, as his three fingers push between your folds before he starts tracing circles around your clit. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling, your body finally relaxing after the exhausting day. Maybe in some other circumstances your mind would slip. If you were alone, if you tried to distract yourself on your own, your mind would wander, but not now. Not with Frank right there in the bed with you. He made it…difficult to focus on anything else, knew how to keep your mind occupied, how to prevent your thoughts from wandering where you didn't want them to go.
His touch strengthens, and you feel your back arching slightly with a quiet moan slipping past your lips.
“Ah-fuck.”
You grunt the moment his fingers slip inside you.
“Shh shh shh-”
Frank mumbles quietly, pushing them further in with ease thanks to your body’s intense reaction to his generous attempts to help.
“That okay?”
His low, groggy mumbling continues while he pushes his thumb against you, working on your clit as you feel yourself clenching around his thick fingers. Frank grunts loudly, watching your involuntary response to his question.
“Yeaah, s’what I thought.”
“Mmmmm-you’re pushing it.”
You whisper and he scoffs.
“Yeah? Shit, am I- hmm?”
He lowers the tone of his voice to match yours, leaning back down with his lips right by your ear yet again.
“Just tryna make you feel good, baby.”
He reassures you, watching your lips part as you feel the center of his palm push flat against your center, the wet sounds of your body filling the room slowly as he begins to slip his fingers in and out of your body once, twice, and again, again and again.
You hum loudly this time, biting into your lower lip before you angle your lower back up slightly in an attempt to chase the sensation every time he slips his fingers out almost completely.
“Frank-”
You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb harder against your clit.
“Mmm, Frank-”
You repeat yourself with a loud moan before your muscles tense up, and you use the built-up force to push your ass back into him when you feel him slip his three fingers out of your pussy again.
“Ah- Fuck!”
He groans at the unexpected feeling, panting loudly when your ass pushes against the bulge in his pants, and you feel his tight grip on your thighs once you push into him again.
“Shit- okay, okay-”
He does his best to focus once again, and you breathe out a laugh, entertained by the slight shift in the dynamic.
“You okay there, Castle?”
You purr, glancing back to watch the way his eyes focus on your ass, feeling his hips buck up into you slightly.
“Shit-”
Letting go of your thigh, he reaches up, quickly grabbing one of the pillows lying by your head before lifting your hips up a couple inches above the mattress and sliding it right under your body to help with the angle.
“Good?”
He asks, glancing up at you, the big, brown eyes fixed on yours as he awaits your answer for a moment before you nod quickly.
“Couldn't have done it better myself.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he drags his hand down your back, stopping right above your ass.
“Yeah no shit-”
You roll your eyes at his words and rest your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes one more time. The sound of the metal buckle of his belt travels through your entire body, and you feel a slight tingling sensation between your legs. Pushing them apart softly, you earn yourself another
“Oh, fuck-”
From Frank, as he now gets to properly see the fruit of his labor. You lay in front of him, naked from the waist down, your legs spread open, your pussy wet from how he touched you before.
“God damn it, kid-.”
He whispers quietly under his breath.
“You know how perfect you look? Hmm?”
He asks, working his hand under the waistband of his boxers to pull himself out.
“I ever tell you that?”
“Once or twice.”
You tease, answering the question without opening your eyes, arching your back slightly to make sure he gets a good view.
“Ffff-”
You glance back this time, the wet sounds convincing you the view would be worth it, and it is. You watch for a moment as he works his hand over the length of his cock, his lips parted as he pants loudly with every other stroke, his fingers wrapped tightly around his length.
Gradually slowing down the movement, Frank holds onto the base of his cock, lining himself up with your exposed center. You hum softly, and your hips rise off of the mattress the moment you feel the head of his cock between your legs.
“Mhmm, just like that.”
You whisper to encourage him, with a slight note of impatience in the tone of your voice.
“Yeah? So..s that what you want me to do?”
“Frank.”
You warn him, knowing exactly where this is going.
“What if I just-”
He continues.
“Frank, don't you f-”
He cuts you off, pushing his cock in between your folds and your whole body jerks forward at the sudden, unexpected sensation accompanied by a loud moan that slips past your lips.
“Fr- fuck!”
You swear, gripping the bed sheets before pushing your ass back against his cock, feeling it rub over your center, between your folds and nudging at your sensitive clit.
Frank laughs loudly, louder than he should in your opinion, considering this was his–and his only–fault.
“Shiiit kid, didn't mean to get you this bad.”
He attempts to calm your body, his big hand resting on your lower back as he continues to slide his cock in between your folds, teasing your entrance and clit with every single one of your now sped up breaths.
“Frank, this- isn't helping.”
You whine out, listening to your body, desperate to feel him inside now.
“Give- shit, give me a second here, kid, this-”
He pants louder now, his other hand on your ass, spreading you open for a better view.
“I swear to god if you come before I get to feel you, I’m sleeping alone.”
He scoffs loudly, hanging his head low as he stops touching himself.
“That a threat?”
He questions your intentions with that sly smirk on his face, and you prop your chest up slightly.
“Wanna find out?”
You glance back, eyebrow raised.
“Nah, won't risk it.”
He states quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard between your legs.
“You scared of me, Castle?”
You mumble the question out as you lay back down on the big pillow, feeling the head of his cock right at your entrance now.
“Yeah, actually, how did you know?”
“Luck guess.”
“Yeah?”
He continues the conversation, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You let your lips part, fall open as you feel him deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the way it stretches you open, a familiar feeling you got used to since being with Frank.
“That good? Hmm?”
He asks quietly, leaning slowly over your body as he thrusts into you.
“Mhmmm.”
You hum out a confirmation as the movements continue, you feel your body rocking back and forth with his body, with the bed.
“Good, wouldn't wanna be on your bad side.”
The thrusts grow stronger as he reaches up to hold onto the headboard, grunting loudly as you clench around him.
With his cock buried deep inside you, you manage another response.
“Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be safe.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The trusting continues for a while after, as he tries to do his best to keep it together long enough for you to feel satisfied. His other hand wraps around your throat at some point, and he lifts your head up slightly. Your breathing speeds up, and you pant loudly through your parted lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the climax.
"Attagirl, you feel it?"
He asked, no cockiness in his voice this time. It's an honest question, he sounded almost concerned.
"Mhm."
Your quiet hum has to work as an answer for now as you grip the bed sheets tighter, feeling his cock nude the underside of your stomach from within you.
"God damn it, kid-"
He mumbles into your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin when he feels your walls clenching around him harder now.
"Frank-"
"Shh shh shh, I got it."
He reassures you, resting your head back onto the mattress before reaching down between your legs.
"You just relax, kid, let me do this for you."
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher#the punisher fanfiction#jon bernthal#frank castle smut#jon bernthal fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#daredevil
567 notes
·
View notes
Text
Professor Castle
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank has a weakness and it's named after you. No matter how much he tries to push you away he always returns to the same point.
CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering, Making out, Professor/Student relationships, Age Gap, Reader is an undergrad student in her early 20s. [I know this is very problematic. Don't come at me. It's just fiction.]
Word Count: 2.8k // AO3 Link.
A/N: This was inspired by this picture of Jon in Origin. I couldn't write for that character in particular, so I thought Frank was the best choice for it, even if it's a lot OOC.
As you muster the courage to enter and confront Professor Castle, you observe him through the cracked door of his office. He looks as good as ever, freshly shaved, in one of his Bexley plaid shirts in white with blue plaid lines, and a dark tweed blazer on top. His hair has slightly curled from the humid weather. His glasses slip a little over the bridge of his nose when he looks down, and he pushes them back in place before tucking a folder in his leather case. You haven't seen him in a few days. Even when you submitted the form to drop his class you managed to leave it on his desk yesterday after he left home. And just early this morning before getting to campus you got an email from him from his uni account, formally denying your request to drop. You don't give a fuck about failing and having to take another course with a different teacher but after what he told you last weekend, you can't stay in his class any longer. It'd be like torture having to see him and not being able to be with him like you desire to.
Of course, you don't ever want to get him in trouble either, he has a lot more to lose than you. But if he doesn't want to see you anymore, then so don't you. So, after a moment of consideration you just clench your fist as hard as you can, set your jaw straight, and storm into the office without announcing yourself. The door slamming the door behind you is what alerts him of your presence. The loud sound makes his head snap up to look at you, standing as tall as you can.
“You can't force me to stay in your class.” You say firmly without raising your voice.
His brow knits behind the thin frame of his glasses as he processes your intrusion.
“No, I guess I can't force you. But I can't let you drop either. You missed the deadline. Unless you have a good excuse like a serious medical condition or emergency the school is not going to let you withdraw at this point. It's out of my hands.”
“Does dying of heartbreak count as a medical emergency?”
“Jesus Christ, you theater kids are really dramatic.”
“Hey, you're the one who told me to join a club.”
“Yeah, but I meant something else like uh… the debate team, the honor society, the newspaper, or the fucking model UN.”
“Well, I made my choice and so did you. I can't just keep showing up at your class and pretend that nothing happened. Can you just think of something? If I meant anything to you… just give me this, Frank.”
You never said his first name before on school grounds. It sounds like a curse word as it slips out of your mouth.
“There are only two months left. That's nothing. Are you telling me you're willing to throw all of that away for me?”
“Yes, because if I can't have you then I can't see you either.”
You catch when his Adam's apple anxiously goes up and down as you say that.
“This is all my fault. I should've never… I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance.”
“Frank—” You take a step closer to his desk, but he promptly holds a placating palm in the air to push you to a stop.
“Don't. Please. Don't throw away your future for me or for anyone for that matter. You're smart and young and strong enough to endure a few more classes. You'll be getting your bachelor's next year, sweetheart. After that… you won't even remember I was ever part of your life.”
“I won't ever forget. I'm begging you. Just let me go or take me back… but…” your frustration knots in your throat. “Stop pushing me away. I know you love me.”
“It doesn't matter if I do. We both have a lot to lose if they find out.”
“Nobody will. We'll be more careful… We could just start over somewhere else, just you and me.”
“Life is not a movie. It doesn't work like that. I know it feels like a matter of life or death right but when you're older—”
“Don't patronize me. I know what I feel. Just take me out of your class or don't. I won't show up either way.”
You turn around to leave the room at once but Frank quickly shuffles behind you and as you reach to grab the handle, he holds the door closed and secures the lock before your eyes.
“So help me God, you're gonna be the end of me, sweetheart.” His tone changes to an octave graver that sends a chill through your spine.
“What are you doing?” You turn around as he steps so awfully close you can capture the strong scent of his aftershave.
“You're going to stay in my class. Front row. Every Wednesday at 10. Then, you're going to ace your final in May. I don't ever wanna hear you again saying otherwise. Is that clear?” He states as a matter of fact, as if you had no choice but to comply with his demand.
“Why are you so convinced I will?”
You watch him up close as he takes off his glasses and lifts his opposite hand to frame your jaw. With conflicted thoughts he pushes your back against the wall, as his face leans to seize your mouth. Professor Castle slowly spells with his tongue all the secrets kept between you in just one beautiful kiss that leaves you breathless.
“Is that enough?” His head pulls back as he sets his glasses back over his eyes as you smooth the lapels of his blazer.
“I'm not sure,” you draw a breath and let the bookbag hanging on your shoulder fall to the floor. “I think I'm gonna need a bigger incentive.”
“There's never enough for you, huh?” he holds your jaw again and tilts your head to the side as he buries his mouth in the crook of your neck.
His lips hold some sort of spell that enchants your body with just a few nips on your skin. The tip of his tongue is laced with poison that intoxicates each and all of your senses as it juts out to leave a wet trace from your collarbone to the back of your ear before pulling back. His eyes turn darker behind the glass as he locks eyes with you. Your pulse picks up in your chest as he licks his lips and allows lust to take over. He watches his thumb trace the shape of your mouth before fiercely succumbing to the temptation of your lips once more, with feeling.
As your arms curl around his neck, his hands travel beneath the hem of your striped, knitted sweater to bask in the warmth of your skin. The sloppy sounds of your kisses sound like sin in this room. You should stop. He should too. But neither of you have enough strength to push the other away.
One of his hands stays pressed on your spine while the other travels down your denim skirt and slips underneath the hem. Hiking it up, his large palm shamelessly grabs your ass, molds your flesh to the shape of his fingers over your panties. Your skin quickly heats up and your mind swirls along the maddening rhythm of his tongue. He presses himself so hard against you, it feels like he's already fucking you, but it's the illusion of his fingers bluntly sliding between your legs and pressing over your opening, stirring a good moan out of you.
“Sh, sh…” he breaks the kiss and whispers a millimeter away from your mouth. “Gotta be quiet now, yeah?”
You simply nod, having his eyes gauging your expression changing as his hand viciously massages your pussy.
“Like that?” His lips pull up at the corners, and you mirror his expression as you softly pant.
“Fuck yeah.”
Then, you close your eyes and press your forehead to his shoulder, keeping your hands anchored to his arms as your juices stain the fabric of your underwear.
“You're dripping, sweetheart.” His voice echoes in your ear. “Is this what you want?”
He presses harder as your grip on him tightens.
“Yeah.”
For a second you think he's going to finish you right there but all of a sudden he stops.
“C'mere,” he locks your arms around his neck before lifting your ass in his hands without much effort. You tuck your legs around his hips as he takes turns around and walks toward the desk.
Keeping you secured in one arm, Frank blindly moves the stuff in the middle before carefully lowering you down on the wooden surface. While you lay on your back, he sits on his chair and brings your ass close to the edge. Instead of letting your legs dangle, he places your feet on each arm of his chair as he kisses one of your knees.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin as he rolls down the fabric of one of your thigh-high stockings to uncover your leg. He does the same with the other stocking before letting his lips get his reward.
The inside of your thigh leads a straight road down to hell. After last weekend, he promised himself he would never cross that line again, but he has a weakness, and it’s named after you. It's taken him through a dangerous path that puts everything he ever believed into question. He could lose his job and his reputation if someone were to cross the door to his office and find you spread like a meal ready to consume. It's lunchtime after all, and he can't think of anything better to feast on other than you. His lips trail that perdition-paved road on your thigh as his fingers softly brush the back of your leg. Your skin sticks out as you pull your knees further apart to make room for his face as it gets closer to your center. The corner of his glasses gently pokes the top of your thigh when he reaches that crucial point. You bite your lip and stare at the broken fixture on the ceiling and try to keep yourself from moaning when he pulls your panties to the side. He stretches the fabric as far as it goes, it makes a tearing sound, but it doesn't break. You couldn't care less if he rips them apart. It wouldn't be the first time either. He’s ruined two pairs already. Professor Castle has a wild side that only comes untamed when he’s with you. But this is different. He's never gone down on you right in his own office on campus like he's about to do. You both know the implications of that, but rules be damned right now. All that worry floats out of your head as his tongue makes first contact with your pussy. He draws a line from your opening up to your clit ever so softly before pulling your outer lips apart and diving in. He has just an ounce of restraint himself from going too hard and making you scream out in pleasure, even though he wants so badly to suck on your clit to hear you pleading for more. To stir out of your voice call out his name and title out of sheer joy. But he holds back. He presses an array of kisses and nibbles all over your folds as you close your eyes to focus on the torturing slow pace of his tongue. Your nipples are hard as a rock under your bra, your legs strain to stay in position when Frank slowly laps around your clit, collecting your arousal as your breathing hollows. He places a palm on your stomach, right under your sweater and catches the effects of his mouth in the way your body reacts. There’s an added edge to doing this right here, it makes his cock throb in his underwear as you mumble his name.
“Frank.” It comes out as a murmur, and he hums against your tender skin before going a little harder. There’s only so much he can do to up the pace and make you come without alerting anyone behind that door of what’s happening inside.
We'll be more careful, you said. He eats out your words straight out of your sex.
To speed up the process uses his other hand to slip two fingers into your opening and press on your g-spot. Your back arches in response. Frank has to press that hand on your abdomen a little harder to keep you from squirming too much. It feels like an eternity until you reach the point of no return, once you're there you can feel that fire burning bright at your core as a mind-numbing chill settles at the back of your head. You've never felt that intense jolt sparking your body like fireworks before. Then again you don't have much to compare him to other than the one and only boyfriend you had when you started college.
You grip at his hair as he cues your orgasm. With a strong flick of his tongue and that adamant pressing of your walls you finally come undone. You bury a moan in your throat as every cell of your body is touched by that wildfire that travels from your center out in every direction. It curls your toes in your shoes, your eyes shut, your knees clench together before he can pull his face away. As the orgasm ebbs he sets himself free from your thighs and watches you descend from cloud nine. He uses a tissue to clean up your cunt and fixes your panties to their former position. Then, Frank settles your legs down as your body goes completely limp, and straightens your skirt over your thighs with such love it almost makes you cry.
“Frank,” your voice comes out watery.
“Sh, it's okay, baby. I know. Come here.” He helps you up and pulls you onto his lap.
“I missed you.”
“I know.” He smiles against your hair as he snuggles you against his chest. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.”
You clear your throat and stay still for a minute while his hand soothes your back before noticing he’s still hard.
“Do you want me to take care of this?” You fondle his bulge over his pants.
“No, that’s okay. That’s my punishment for hurting you.” He takes your hand away, brings it up to his lip to kiss your knuckles.
“You really have a thing for punishment, huh?” You quip, lifting your head to look at him. It’s then that you notice his messed up hair and send our fingers to fix it.
“Not as much as you do.” His hand pats your ass reminding you of all those times you've begged him to spank you when you were being a brat.
You laugh as you take off his glasses and use the hem of your sweater to clean them.
“Can I come over this weekend?” You ask putting his eyewear back on.
“I have that wedding I told you about. Can't get out of it, I'm the best man.”
“Right. Of course. One of your marine buddies. Florida, right?”
“Yeah.” His stare goes down as he massages your hand thinking that maybe… “You could come with me if you want.”
“I uh… I don't think I'm ready for that.”
“No, you are. Nobody will know you there, and I don't wanna keep lying about you, at least not to my friends. They won't give a fuck, you know? I'm tired of being set up for blind dates and shit.”
“Oh, it must be really hard being you.” You mock.
“Don't laugh. Just think about it. It'll be something casual at the beach. I'll get you a ticket if you're worried about that.”
“I really changed your mind, did I? That's a full 180 from what you said the other day, Frank. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yeah, I was only fooling myself thinking that I could stay away from you. Which I would've if you hadn't shown up here with a fucking attitude. But you're right, we'll have to be more careful from now on.”
“And we can do whatever we want in Florida.”
“Yeah, you wanna come?”
“Only if you really want me there.”
“I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.”
“Then I'll go with you.”
You press your lips sweetly against his and let them bounce together for a moment before getting back to reality. You pull up your stockings all the way up and fix up your clothes before collecting your bag from the floor. But Professor Castle can't help but stall for a bit longer to kiss you once more until you have no choice but to run to your next class.
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher fanfiction#frank castle smut#jon bernthal#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal smut#angst#smut#darlingwrites
502 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teacher - Chapter III
Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader
Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink
Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!
Word Count: 9k
Previous Chapters: I, II
“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.
“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.
“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains.
“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”
“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”
“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.
Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.
“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”
“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.
“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.
“Oh! When are we going?”
“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”
You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.
“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.
“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.
As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.
“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”
That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.
You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.
After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.
“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.
“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.
You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.
“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.
“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.
“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.
She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.
And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.
“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.
Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.
A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.
“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”
You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.
He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.
“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.
If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.
As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.
“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.
“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.
“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.
“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.
Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.
You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.
“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.
Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.
The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.
You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.
“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.
He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.
You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.
His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.
“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.
“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”
He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.
“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.
“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”
“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.
“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.
“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.
“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”
His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.
“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.
“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.
After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.
Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.
“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.
The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.
“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.
“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.
The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too.
“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.
“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.
“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.
“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.
“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.
“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.
“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.
“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.
You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips.
He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.
“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.
Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.
“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.
“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.
Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.
You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.
The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too.
The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.
Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.
“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.
“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”
“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.
“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.
“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.
“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.
“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.
Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.
You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.
All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.
He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.
When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.
The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.
Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.
With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.
And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.
“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.
It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.
“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.
Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.
“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.
He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.
Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.
“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.
He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.
His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.
His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.
“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.
“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.
“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.
“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.
“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.
“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”
You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.
“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.
He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”
From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.
“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.
The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.
The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.
“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.
“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.
“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.
“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.
“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.
The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.
“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.
“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.
“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.
“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.
With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.
“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.
Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.
“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.
“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!
“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.
“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.
“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.
One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.
“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.
“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.
“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.
“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.
Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd
#new writing record WOOO! i just couldn't shut the hell up :)#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle fic#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal fic#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher fanfic#chelsea writes
459 notes
·
View notes
Note
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
926 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dexterity
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.
Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k
Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk
Always time for Coffee series
⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️
A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.
Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.
You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be.
Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.
The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.
You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.
As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.
Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.
That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.
You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.
He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.
“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.
“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.
You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck.
“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.
You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.
“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.
“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.
“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.
“Can never refuse your coffee.”
You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”
You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.
“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.
“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.
You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.
“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.
“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.
“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone.
That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.
“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”
You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.
“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.
You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.
“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.
You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.
“Is that a no?”
Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.
“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.
“‘m not playin', Baby.”
To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.
You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.
“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.
You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.
“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”
You say nothing, you can’t right now.
Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.
“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”
You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.
“You,” you breathe softly.
His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.
“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”
You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.
“Something… like… that…”
“Something?”
“Finger-fucking… me.”
He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.
“Something like that?”
Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.
The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.
Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.
“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.
Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.
“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”
“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.
“Yes!” you hiss, elated.
But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.
“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.
Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.
Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”
“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.
As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.
“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.
You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.
“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.
“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.
Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”
You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.
“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.
Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”
“But-”
“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.
You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.
“So… coffee?”
You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.
“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”
You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.
You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.
“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.
“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.
You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.
“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.
It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.
“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.
“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.
Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”
He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.
You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle#reader insert#the punisher#mes fics#always time for coffee series#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle smut#the punisher fanfiction
209 notes
·
View notes
Note
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
418 notes
·
View notes
Text
my girl
frank castle x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI!!! mentions of alcohol consumption, roleplay-ish, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, soft dom!frank, degradation/praise kink, “daddy” and “sir”, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, cockwarming if you squint, little aftercare
summary: the game: no touching allowed
A/N: omg hey 🙈 it’s been a while! but I’m back! this is pure filth and I’m not ashamed! we all know Frank Castle would talk you through it!
COMMENTS/REBLOGS/LIKES ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND WELCOMED <;3
DONT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY SHIT.
It was one of those nights.
The kind where you and Frank attempted to pull your heads out of your asses after a shitty week and have fun for once.
He would argue that his version of fun was only found with a gun in his hand or kevlar strapped to his chest, and he truly meant it at one point, but that was before you, his girl, and he would do anything for his girl— even if it meant indulging you in your own fanatical definition of entertainment.
Your idea of fun, however, was a shitty dive bar that smelled like stale beer, wearing skimpy dresses that you found in adult stores, and pretending like you had never seen Frank a day in your life, imagining he was some hot shot trying to show you a good time.
It started off as a game. Frank didn’t get it at first, struggling with the idea that “pretending” wasn’t lying, it’s not lying, Frank. I still love you. It’s just a game, you have to convince me to come back home with you, but eventually it became a different challenge entirely— it was now healthy competition between the two of you, seeing who could last the longest without touching one another.
And it was one of those nights where you played dirty.
Wearing nothing but a silk slip that left nothing to the imagination and crotchless panties, you expertly navigated around the bar while the music bewitched you, leading you in different directions and drawing men towards your magnetic pull.
It didn’t take much for men to pay attention to you. You knew that, but more importantly, Frank knew that, and he was painfully aware of how alluring you were.
It was all fair game, and he let you have your fun, only finding comfort in knowing that he was the only one who could shove his face into your chest and cunt. That he was the only one that would take you home and pull moans out of you like it was his job. That he was the only one who could bury and empty himself into you and you would take all of it, because you were his girl.
Frank was more possessive than he led on, but it was the only consolation he had while playing your game. He ignored the few stray women that eventually found their way to him with ease. He didn’t enjoy their attention, it almost disgusted him, but he did appreciate the way your jealousy manifested itself.
You knew it was a game, that the blonde woman meant nothing to him, but the jealousy turned you into something else completely.
The envy mixed into the final swig of your drink and went down easily as it burned the back of your throat. The liquid courage warmed you enough to move, and you shuffled down from your perched stool with a fire stirring in your belly.
It wasn’t your fault that your purse conveniently fell from your shoulder, or the way your dress rose above your ass when you bent over to retrieve it, revealing your crotchless panties to the patrons of the bar. It also wasn’t your fault for the dog whistles that pierced through the music, the droopy eyed stares, or the coughing fit that Frank fell victim to as he choked on his beer.
You could practically taste victory, unable to hide the smirk that plastered against your cheeks as you collected your belongings, turning to face him. The win, however, was short lived, and your face fell when you caught his eye, unable to read his darkened expression.
Whether it was the churning alcohol or growing need between your thighs, you found the confidence to hold his gaze, paying attention to the way he slammed his beer back.
Fuck.
The game was over, that much was clear, and your heart hammered against your chest. Maybe you had gone too far this time. Maybe the panties were too much. Maybe he would understand if you apologized and forfeited this time. Maybe—
Fuck.
For a moment, you swore you faced the Punisher. He grew in size and stature, towering over you as he straightened, the random woman falling off of him in return. He was unreadable, almost threatening, but his façade flickered as he subtly nodded towards the door.
Fuck.
The tension was palpable. It practically trailed your wobbly stride as you found your way out of the bar, hiccuping down your anxiety. Frank followed your lead, silently stalking behind you. His presence was looming, and the silence was baiting your wanton anticipation.
“Frank,” you broke character, turning to face him.
His stride never faltered, and he beat you to the truck. “Frank, wait.”
“Ladies first.” The truck door swung open with a creak as Frank all but pulled it from its hinges, eager to usher you into your place.
You must’ve looked uneasy, tottering on the balls of your feet, and he took note of your lip tucked between your teeth.
“It’s okay,” he reassured you with a wink, holding out his hand to help you into your seat.
Yellow street lights hid the warmth in your cheeks as you softened beneath Frank’s gentleness, and you couldn’t help but hide a smirk as you made a final attempt to claim the last word at your own game.
The hem of your dress tickled the back of your thighs as you attempted to climb into the truck, only pausing to pull the rest of your dress over your hips. It was a lousy move given the circumstances— you pretending to busy yourself while exposing your dripping cunt for anyone in the parking lot to see, but you knew it would rile him up in a way that would benefit the both of you. Eventually.
“C’mon now, sweetheart,” Frank groaned at the sight before him, his own pants growing tighter while he studied the way your core glistened.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you quipped innocently. “I’m just looking for my phone.” You spread your legs ever so slightly, silently inviting him to have his way with you.
“That right?” He drew closer with slow, deliberate steps, knowing how much you enjoy the anticipation. It was exciting, and he was so close, and you were offering yourself to him, and the act was slipping…
“Cause I thought maybe it could be in here?” You jump as your purse lands in front of your face with a thud, bouncing in the driver's seat.
“Huh,” you let out an amused chuckle before Frank fit himself against your spread legs, a small gasp escaping your lips as he pressed himself into you, his bulge hitting your clit directly. “Probably is,” you whimpered, dropping your head as a silent thanks to the truck for providing a welcomed new height and angle.
“Probably is?” He questioned, his voice startling as his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He’s careful not to kiss you fully, not wanting to break the rules of your game, and he forces his arms to land on either side of you, caging you beneath him.
You felt his chest heave against your back and you smile to yourself, relishing in your ability to unravel the Punisher, but the victory is short lived; he unfurls himself from your bent form before delicately pulling your dress back down to cover your ass.
“C’mon.” His palm landed against your supple flesh and you yelped at the unexpected contact. “Let me take you home.”
“I win!” You exclaimed, nearly hitting your head on the inside of the truck.
“What?” He cocked his head to the side with a loose smile.
“I win!” You twisted in your seat to face him, your smile radiating in the dark. “You touched me first. I win.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He playfully shut the door in your face and you laugh, watching his lip curl into a smile as he fakes his own disappointment.
The door to your bedroom thudded against your weight, the doorknob rattling as you blindly maneuvered your way into your room.
“Frank,” you moaned into his mouth, pulling him impossibly close while stumbling towards your bed. The mattress dipped below your combined weight, Frank hovering over your sprawled frame.
Your hands traveled the length of his body, studying every contour of muscle like you would lose him if he pulled away. “Touch me,” you whispered, catching him by surprise.
“Aht aht,” he laughs into your neck at your demand, his lips attaching to your steady pulse. “You know the rules, babydoll. You gotta finish first before I can touch you.”
“But,” you attempt to refute your own rules.
“You wanna act like a big girl? You can make yourself cum.” He places deliberate kisses down your neck, taking extra care to suck on your delicate skin. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
It was so patronizing, the condescension sweet and sticky and so contrasting from the way he cradled your head, stroking your hairline before planting a kiss to your temple.
“Yes sir,” you submit willingly, whining when he peels himself away from you.
“Atta girl, you can do it,” he encourages you before settling on his side, adjusting comfortably into your mattress.
His eyes widened as you lifted yourself from the bed, pulling the billowy silk off of your frame before throwing it in his direction. You played into your short-lived victory, tracing your fingertips alongside the curves of your body and cupping your breasts together, letting a moan escape as your fingers brushed your hardened nipples.
It was obvious your ministrations affected Frank, and you watched as he pulled at his jeans, clearing his throat to conceal his grunt.
As much as you loved his response to your body, you can’t help but notice the way your breath catches in your throat while you watch him palm himself through the rough denim. It was a silent invitation for you to do the same, finally realizing how agonizing the ache in between your thighs had grown.
The elastic band of your barely there panties hadn’t made it around your fingers before Frank interrupted.
“Leave 'em on,” he huffed a laugh. “Ain’t hiding shit anyway.”
Your cheeks flushed at his enthusiasm, and you sheepishly found your place on the bed, your bare back resting against the headboard. It was only then when you realized how exposed you truly were, and you pressed your thighs together for some semblance of modesty.
“What’s the matter?” he teased. “You nervous or somethin’?”
“Mhm,” you nod your head, stifling a moan when your thighs instinctively clench together, adding just enough pressure against your already sensitive clit.
“Funny,” he chuckled, “cause you sure as hell weren’t shy before.” He was right, and you knew it, your skin consequently growing warm as he spotlighted your cheap plays at winning. “So go on,” he continues, “show me how a pretty whore like you wants to be touched.”
The expletive took you by surprise, but you obeyed shamelessly. Eagerly. Spreading your legs open as an offering to the man who watched just a few feet away as your fingers dipped between your thighs, pressing gently against your clit.
“Fuck,” you moaned, your lip finding its place between your teeth.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” Frank cooed towards you, his tongue darting across his bottom lip while his eyes flash between your scrunched face and drenched fingertips.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“What was that?” He goaded.
“Yes, daddy,” you correct yourself. “Feels… so good.”
He moaned alongside you, grunting as he pulled himself out of the confines of his pants. You watched unabashedly as he spit into his palm before pumping his already weeping cock, the sight only pushing you closer towards your orgasm.
You made no attempts at hiding your pleasure.
“Fuck,” you whined, grinding your hips as your fingers circled your clit.
“There you go, that’s it,” Frank matched your pace, stroking his length as he spurred you on. “That’s my good girl, makin’ that pussy feel so good for daddy.”
“It feels so good,” your head fell against the headboard with a thud, but you hardly noticed. His gaze felt like fire creeping up your body as he studied you with anticipation. “I’m close,” you squeaked.
“Yeah? You’re doin’ so good, pretty girl,” he praised.
Your fingers worked tirelessly as you chased the familiar feeling, and you held your breath as the pressure grew.
“Attagirl, look at you. Just like that,” he bit his own lip while fisting his cock. “Be a good girl and cum for me.
“I’m gonna cum,” you croak out, too busy concentrating on the budding climax to notice the way Frank savored your rising chest and your fingers working your dripping cunt.
“That’s it, cum for daddy.”
It was overwhelming and you were unprepared for his attention, all but crying out as he expertly ran a thick finger between your folds before plunging into you. He hooked himself to your core while manually pulling your orgasm from your body, never breaking a steady rhythm.
“Fuck, don’t stop!” Your body stiffened and you held onto Frank’s forearm as your pleasure uncoiled and gushed from your core.
There was no time to process what happened or to even catch your breath; he clasped onto your ankles, pulling you closer to him before he delved into your wetness, collecting all of you on his tongue, suctioning his lips around your swollen clit.
“Frank!” you jumped at the sensitivity.
“Taste so good sweetheart,” he adjusted accordingly, continuing his languid strokes and moaning into the taste of your pussy.
You can’t help but ride out your high and grind against his tongue as he laps up the remnants of your orgasm, shuddering at each flick of his tongue against your clit.
It was too much and not enough all at the same time. He was close, but you needed him closer.
“I want you,” you reached down, pulling him to your lips. He moaned as your teeth nipped and sucked at his lower lip, savoring the taste of your arousal.
“What’s that?” He baited you, all but ripping his clothes from his body.
“I, fuck-“ you moaned as he lightly tapped his heavy cock against your swollen nub before trailing himself through your folds. “I want you, Frankie.”
“You do?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“I don’t really believe you, sweet girl,” he softened ever so slightly at the name, and you almost believed he would be merciful and indulge you, but his jaw tightened and his expression hardened in front of you. “Beg for it.”
Although deserved, it was a cruel, cruel punishment.
“I want you to fuck me,” you began, jutting your hips towards his cock sliding against you. “I want you to use me.”
He moaned at that— the way you submitted yourself to him, spreading your legs further apart to tease him into submission, waiting for him to break.
“I want you to fill me up and make me yours,” you snaked your hand between your bodies and guided his cock into your drenched cunt.
A hiss filled the room as he buried himself into you in one motion, and you groaned at the sudden sensation. He met your every need and ache, leaving you breathless and with double vision. Completely entranced by the delicious fullness.
“This what you wanted?” He growled into your ear, his body hovering over yours as he thrusted with precision. “Wanted me to use you like a good little slut?”
Your response was guttural, and you grabbed onto any part of him, pulling him in for more, more, more.
“Feels so fuckin’ good,” his lips brushed the soft curve of your neck. “Like that pussy was just made for me, ain’t that right?”
Of course it was right, every fiber of your being screamed out for him. He was insatiable, and it would never be enough.
“S-so good,” you stuttered through chattering teeth, attempting to focus your gaze on his face. “Feels so good, you feel so good.”
“God, look at you,” he cooed. “Already fucked out, huh? Have you had enough, sweetheart?”
You almost said yes; each thrust of his hips was a coordinated attack against your g spot, and you were debilitated, barely able to conjure words, let alone sentences.
“No,” you mustered. “Need you to use me, please.”
His brows creased together, your request causing him to teeter towards his own pleasure.
“You’re doin’ so good for me. Takin me like such a good girl,” he spit on his fingers before rubbing circles over your clit. “Want you to cum with me. Can you do that?”
“Mhm,” you didn’t think it was possible, but dammit you would try. You squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to draw the scattered pieces of your brain together to revel in his movements, becoming pliable in his hands.
“That’s it,” he grunted, enjoying the sight of his length disappearing into your dripping pussy. “Takin’ me so well, that’s my girl.”
You moaned at his praise, relishing in the way he claimed you both physically and verbally. He knew you were close, and you knew he was closing in on his precipice. He could feel the way you pulsed around him, beckoning his own release, and he gave into you completely.
“Cum for me, daddy.”
It came out so sweet he thought he imagined it.
“Keep talkin’ like that and I will,” he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would prolong the pleasure.
“Cum in my pussy, please. I need you.” You whimpered as you replaced his fingers with your own, chasing your own release while cupping his neck to bring his lips to yours. “So close,” you whined.
“‘Want daddy to fill that pretty pussy up, hm?” He mumbled into your open mouth.
“Yes sir.”
You were so close. It was right there.
“Be a good girl and cum with me.”
The room erupted in a cacophony of moans and you were sure flames had licked your skin. Your thighs shook against their will as your orgasm rolled over you, radiating between your bodies.
“Attagirl, there it is.” Frank admired the way your body responded to him, the way you clung to him while your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung agape. You were so beautiful sprawled out, and he gripped onto your fleshy hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
“Fuck!” He groaned into the side of your neck as you pulsed around him, his thrusts growing sloppy before he spilled into you.
There was a moment of clarity between your blissful haze where you became aware of his presence, and the incessant need to have him closer overshadowed everything.
“So good,” you cupped his face, ignoring the way his stubble tickled your palms before pressing your trembling lips to his.
“So good,” he repeated, his nose pressing into yours while your lips met. “Did so good for me.”
He carefully pulled himself from you, never breaking the kiss even as you hissed. He simply ran a large hand along your head before looking over you.
“You okay sweetheart?”
You gave a drowsy, heavy-lidded smile with a shaky thumbs up from beneath him and he chuckled before placing a chaste kiss along your sternum and settling on top of you.
The added weight was welcomed and comforted you, acting as some grounding agent to bring you back together. It was the same for Frank; he clung to you, his arms wrapping around your fleshy frame while his fingertips pressed into you, memorizing each curve and contour of your body.
You followed suit, running your fingertips along the lines of muscles and splatters of raised scars before lazily squeezing him. He hummed when you grazed your nails along his scalp and nestled into your chest accordingly.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” you sleepily confess.
“Don’t worry bout it.”
“You’re not upset?”
“Nah.” His eyes remained closed, much to your confusion.
You were quiet for a moment, not fully understanding his answer. He knew you were quizzical. He didn’t need to look at you to know your face was scrunched and your eyebrows creased while you attempted to do the mental math behind his answer.
“Ain’t mad cause you’re my girl,” he beat you to it. “Unless you got somethin’ to tell me.” You could feel his smile against your chest.
“No I don’t,” you relaxed. “I’m your girl.”
#frank castle#frank castle smut#soft!dom frank castle#frank castle x female reader#the punisher#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle x reader smut#the punisher smut#the punisher fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
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!!
MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST
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.”
Tag List:
@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt
#frank castle#frank castle angst#frank castle imagine#frank castle x reader#frank castle fluff#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle x you#frank castle fic#the punisher#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher fluff#the punisher angst#jon bernthal#marvel#marvel imagine#the punisher imagine#frank castle oneshot#the punisher x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel angst#marvel fluff#requested#amhrosina
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Penny For Your Thoughts
Pairing: Billy Russo x F!Reader
I saw this gif and got super horny for Billy again, so this is what happened. You can also blame @becauseicantthinkwritings, @frying-panties, @dreadfulxives18 for encouraging me 😜
Warnings: 18+, minors do NOT interact, smut, explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, super dirty talk, use of pet names (darling, baby), Sugar Daddy!Billy vibes, oral (M receiving), PIV, reader has multiple orgasms, creampie
“Darling, my leg’s falling asleep.”
You pouted, not that he could see, and snuggled your face further into Billy’s neck. You were sitting on his lap, with your butt mostly on one of his thighs, cuddling up to his chest. He was still dressed in a full suit and had merely sat down on the couch for a drink, but you’d crawled onto his lap. You needed to feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and just be close to him.
You’d been lonely without him, spending the day feeling empty after waking up with his cock inside you. He’d left you blissed out, cum seeping between your legs. He wanted to clean you up, but he was late for work, and you assured him that you could clean yourself up.
The sound of Billy setting his glass down shook you from your memory. “Darling,” he said again. He ran his hand through your hair and pulled on it slightly.
You let him pull your head back so he could look at your face.
“Hi, Billy.” You said. You hadn’t even spoken since he’d gotten back. You just needed to feel him.
He smiled gently. “Hi, baby. I need you to get off my lap. I can’t feel my toes.” He let go of your hair and smoothed it back in place.
“Kiss first?” You bargained.
Billy grinned. “For you, of course.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.
You pouted as he pulled away.
“What’s that face?” he asked. He knew what it was, though.
“Nothin’,” you said, knowing better than to push him.
You got off his lap and slid to the floor instead, resting your chin on the knee of his other leg as he stretched out the one you’d been sitting on.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, looking up at his pensive face.
“Just thinking about my day.” He rubbed a hand over his beard.
“How was work?” You asked.
Billy shrugged. “It was hard to focus, with the image of my cum leaking out of your little cunt constantly flashing through my head.”
You felt your cheeks flush, but more pertinently, you felt arousal pool between your legs. You bit your lip for a moment, before you released it. “Maybe that’s something you need to see again.”
A beautiful, sexy smirk took over Billy’s lips. “Oh? You think that’ll help?”
“Maybe. Or maybe you need your cock in my mouth?” You trailed a hand up his leg and over his groin, which was starting to grow hard.
He grunted at your touch. “Maybe I need both.”
“Maybe you’ll get both, if you ask nicely.” You batted your eyelashes.
Billy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I ain’t nice, though.”
“Yes, you are.” You disagreed. You continued rubbing your hand along the outline of his cock over his trousers. “You bought me those shoes I really wanted last week, even though they were full price.”
“They weren’t that expensive.” He grunted.
“They were two grand.” You scoffed.
“Pennies.” Billy quipped.
“You wanted to take care of me this morning. Almost made you late for work.” You said, still trying to tell him that he was nice.
“Well, had to do something for the excellent pussy I got.” He drawled.
You rolled your eyes.
“Well, you’re quite nice to me. You’ll never change my mind.” You said. Despite your many attempts to refuse him, Billy had been very generous to you. All the money he’d given so far had been used – in addition for pleasurable items like a new phone, or non-necessities like those designer shoes – for student loans, medical bills, and even your rent before you’d moved in with him.
You unbuttoned his pants and did your best to free his cock, but he ended up lifting his hips so he could pull his trousers and underwear down his legs instead. You pumped him a few times in your hand as you gathered some saliva in your mouth, before you let it dribble out onto his cock.
“Fuck,” Billy said.
You then lowered your head and took him in your mouth, moving your head down until your nose touched his skin. You let his cock tickle the back of your throat for a few seconds before you pulled back and started sucking on the tip. You teased the slit with your tongue and stroked him with your hand before you started bobbing your head.
Billy groaned. “Now I’m remembering why I’m so nice to you.”
The corners of your lips turned up, but you couldn’t give him the smirk you wanted to with his cock in your mouth. Billy always seemed to enjoy getting head from you, and with the way he treated and pleased you after, you didn’t mind giving it.
It was difficult to take all his length in your mouth though, so you stuck to using your hand near the base to stroke and squeeze what you couldn’t fit past your lips. Every now and then you would stop to suckle and lick at the swollen head, tasting the precum that was starting to spill.
Billy’s fingers wove into your hair, and you started to take him back in your mouth. You knew that he liked it when you struggled to take him all.
“Lemme feel that little throat choke on my dick.” He said, voice thick with arousal.
You fought your eyes from rolling back in your head as you felt yourself soak through your panties. You focused on breathing steadily through your nose, as Billy slowly thrusted his hips to fuck your mouth. Your fingers dug into the cushions of the couch, your pussy ached, but you let Billy use you. You wanted him to use you.
You were finding it harder to breathe and were getting a little overwhelmed trying to continually disengage your gag reflex, and tears had started spilling down your cheeks. When Billy noticed, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Fuck!” Despite his roar, his rhythm slowed until he eventually pulled your mouth off him.
Your used jaw hung open for a little bit, and some drool slid off your tongue and onto your lap before you could close your mouth.
Billy delicately cupped your face and wiped away your tears. “Are you okay?” His voice was dripping with fake sympathy, but you loved it.
You tried to speak, but you could only nod. “Poor thing. Your brain’s probably leaking out of your little cunt, just like your mouth. Can’t even talk.”
You whimpered. You were so wet. Your panties were absolutely drenched.
“Fuck, baby. Get up here, lemme fuck that wet little cunt.”
Your legs were stiff from kneeling, but you sat down on the couch and pulled your dress off. Billy kissed you immediately, hands expertly ridding you of your bra and tossing it behind him, so he could twist your nipples with his fingers. One hand went up to wrap gently around the front of your throat and he pushed you so that you would lay back.
He moved his kisses down your throat to your tits, giving both of your nipples a wet suck, before he kissed down your stomach.
He looked up at you, his eyes menacingly dark with arousal. “I can smell you, baby, and I haven’t even taken off your panties.”
“So wet. Just for you, Billy.” You whined.
“Let me see.” He said. “Take ‘em off.”
You lifted your hips and pushed your panties down and pulled them off your feet. You dropped your panties to the floor, a little embarrassed at how you’d soaked through them when all you’d done was suck his cock.
Billy took one look at your glistening center before he slammed his cock inside you. He didn’t even bother to get undressed, but you felt the heat of his skin through his clothes.
You gasped hard at the intrusion. Usually, he warmed you up with his fingers, so now it felt like he was splitting you open. “Fuck, Billy... ‘s too big.” You practically sobbed. You realized you were still a little sore from this morning.
He gave one thrust, but then settled deep inside you and remained still. “What’s that?” He kissed your lips once, then your cheek, then began sucking on your neck.
“You’re too big!” You whimpered. Your hands clutched at his suit desperately in an attempt to ground yourself.
He chuckled into your neck. “You’re a big girl, you can take it. Can’t you?”
You whined as he pulled back and pressed in again. He was everywhere, it was too much, yet you wanted more.
He looked up at you and saw the single tear slipping past the corner of your eye. “Oh, darling. If you’re gonna cry, I can just stop. Don’t want to hurt the little baby with my big cock.” He kissed the trail left by your tear.
He started drawing back, but you cried out, “No!”
He held still, looking down at you with a smug smirk he was trying poorly to hide. “No? But I don’t wanna hurt your little pussy.”
“Please, don’t stop. I can take it. You made me so wet, Billy. I can take you, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, cupping your cheek sweetly.
You nodded vigorously. “Promise, I promise.”
Billy tapped your lips with two fingers, and you opened your mouth immediately. You sucked on his fingers, lathering them with your tongue before Billy pulled them out. He used them to press against your clit, and your hips arched up into him and your cunt clenched around him.
Billy grunted. “Such a tight little pussy. And it’s all mine.”
You nodded in agreement. “All yours.” You sighed, enjoying the way he was stroking your clit.
He started thrusted again slowly, but only for a few beats before he started fucking you earnestly. His hand abandoned your clit, so he could push one of your legs up against your chest and grip the arm of the couch in his other hand to allow him to rail you into oblivion.
Little sighs and moans were leaving your mouth unconsciously. You wondered if they could be heard over the sound of Billy’s skin slapping against yours. You were certain that they could, when you gave a particularly high-pitched whine as the tip of his cock hit that precious spot inside you.
Billy grunted. “Sing for me, baby. Let me take care of you. Like I always will.”
His words were what drove you to your orgasm, even more than the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your walls. Your body did indeed sing for Billy as you came.
Your vision kind of blacked out, and you could just barely hear Billy’s strained chuckle as he continued fucking you. “So gorgeous when you cum all over my cock like that. Your little cunt is fluttering all around me, baby. Feels so fucking good.”
You whined, getting a little overstimulated by his continuous thrusts. “Billy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm, Billy.” You couldn’t say anything else.
Your vision came back into focus and there was a smirk on his lips. “I see your brain is still leaking out of your cunt.”
You opened your mouth to try to speak, but his hand when back to your clit and you gasped at the contact.
“Cum for me again, baby, then I’ll fill up your little cunt.”
Your back was arching from the attention to your clit and the building of your second orgasm. Your bare nipples brushed against the smooth fabric of his suit jacket and the peaks tightened even more at the friction. Everything was too much.
“Oh, don’t know if I can.” You mumbled.
Billy kissed your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth to tease yours for a moment. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “You can, baby, I know you can. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
You nodded, almost reluctantly. You didn’t want to do anything but please him.
“Yes, you are.” He said proudly. With that, he started rubbing your clit rapidly and he didn’t stop until your walls were convulsing once again.
“Oh, Billy, ‘m cumming.” You cried, fingers digging into his back.
“Fuck, yeah, baby.” His rhythm stuttered a little bit before he gave some hard thrusts and came inside you. His hair was out of place and fell in front of his eyes, which were squeezed shut in his bliss. He’d never been more beautiful.
You wrapped your arms tighter around him, so that he would settle against you. You needed his weight to ground you because you felt like you were going to float into space. Billy planted a few soft kisses on your cheek, jaw and behind your ear.
He pulled away then, and you groaned when his cock slipped out of you. You watched him watch his cum drip out of you. His dark eyes sparkled.
“Goddamn.” He said, his voice deeper than ever.
You bent both your knees and brought them close to your chest, opening yourself up for him. You ran your fingers gently through your folds and swiped at your entrance. You brought your fingers to your mouth, glistening with the combination of your cum and his, and sucked them between your lips. You moaned, mostly for show.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You teased.
Billy smirked. “You’re something else.”
You released your fingers, smiling up at him sweetly. “Think that will help you be less distracted tomorrow?”
He chuckled. “Definitely not.” He tucked himself back in his trousers.
You grinned.
“Come on, darling. Let’s take a bath.”
“Can’t walk.” You said simply, not even trying to move.
He shook his head, still grinning, but took you up his arms anyway.
You smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Billy.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
~
Author's note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 😌
Taglist: @kayhi808 @idaoftheburningmind @quellmythirst @kahlanmars @catherinnn @crowssixof @musicalggirl @insssanemind @loubombshell @misscaitygrace @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations
(please tell me if you want to be removed from my everything Billy Russo taglist, I just kinda look through everyone I have tagged on other stuff consistently)
#billy russo smut#billy russo fanfic#the punisher fanfiction#billy russo x reader#billy russo x you#billy russo x female reader#billy russo#billy russo fic#my writing#sugar daddy!Billy
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i've got you, darlin'
masterlist
pairing: frank castle x afab!reader
summary: frank makes getting your period a little easier to bear
warnings: mentions of heavy periods (cramps, pain, body aches, but no bleeding), fluff and frank looking after you, protective frank!!!
a/n: for my sweet @chellestrash 💗 who deserves the world (and frank castle)
He knows, even before your eyes flutter closed and your grip tightens on the sheets. He knows, just from the way his name comes out in a hoarse whisper, more of a plea than a prayer.
Frank kneels onto the ground, his voice a gentle cadence in your ear. "That time again, huh?"
You swallow harshly, unable to stop the pained grimace distorting your face, at a loss of how else to say yes. It seems like a simple answer, a candid one, but it's a response you've come to loathe.
Because every month, not unlike clockwork, it's an age-old reply to the same question.
Your body starts to seize, despite the breathing exercises running rampant through your head — in through the nose for three, hold for four, out through the mouth for five — and the heavy blankets doing absolutely nothing to warm your frigid skin.
Ice and searing fire glitter in your veins, a complicated dance with no ending, not bothering to tiptoe around the white-hot knife twisting into your stomach.
"M'right here, sweetheart," Frank murmurs, at the ready, dropping Advil into your gnarled, outstretched hand, before lifting a glass of water to your lips.
He helps you upright, making sure the pills go down, watching your reaction to see if you need anything more.
Your eyes dart to the kitchen, a silent communicator of the one other thing that's missing, but Frank shakes his head, placing the heat pack across your abdomen in near-perfect synchronisation. "Already got it."
A meek "Thanks, Frankie" is all you manage amongst the bouts of blinding discomfort, more of a rasp than intended. Curling up into a ball, you bury your face into the pillows, doing your best to ground yourself, to let his scent settle over you in a wave of calm.
The mattress dips as Frank sits down next to you, dragging a soothing hand across your back, alternating his touch between long, languid strokes and featherlight circles.
"Honestly sweetheart," he muses, the hint of a smile flitting across his face, "you'd make a great Marine."
You blink at him, disconcerted.
He gestures towards you, chuckling. "I tell 'ya, the guys thought they were tough shit, but one week of this and they woulda been beggin' for mercy. You put 'em to shame."
You roll your eyes, mustering a weak smile. "Well it's not like I have a choice, do I?"
"Yeah? And? Ain’t makin’ me any less proud."
The next cramp snowballs into you before you have a chance to respond, impending fatigue crawling up your spine in lashes.
And then his hands are on you, his body sheltering yours, encasing you with every ounce of protective warmth he can muster. He holds you closely, nestling your head in the crook of his neck, letting his arms fall into place.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, into your hair. “I’ve got you, darlin’. I’ve got you.”
Sharpness turns to a throbbing, dull ache, though it reverberates in your bones, turning your muscles to jelly.
Still, you grasp at him, clutching him tighter, as if he’s the one thing in the world that could actually get you through this.
You suppress a bout of muted laughter. You’re always going to be the one getting yourself through this, no matter what, but…
At least Frank makes it more bearable.
“It’s going to be a long week,” you sigh, your words muffled against his chest.
And it’s true. You’re going to be here for a while.
But he’s got you.
And it’s gonna be okay.
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#the punisher#the punisher x reader#frank castle fluff#the punisher fluff#frank castle fanfic#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher fanfic#the punisher fanfiction#tw periods#rhi writes 💻#x reader
599 notes
·
View notes
Note
Helloooooo! 3000 that's flipping mental, congratulations!
Could I please request some pelvis smashing smut with Frank Castle and:
“H-How long have you been standing there?”
Thank yoooo! 💖
Sweet love! I appreciate you so damn much, thank you for your request. I'm so sorry for the insane delay, but I hope you enjoy this little bit of filth 💖
close up
frank castle x f!reader
word count: 1k-ish? i finished it in my drafts so idk
warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, use of saliva as lube, masturbation (f), toy use, smidgen of voyeurism, oral (f), brief mention of double penetration
It’s stress that has you so wound up. Tension hangs in your muscles, an ache starts to build behind your temples. You just need something to take the edge off, something to throw yourself into to forget the shit day you’d had to endure. You just want to be—no thoughts, no anxiety, just calm bliss.
And you know exactly where to start.
Usually it would be him. He’s always there for you when you need him, always more than happy to please, to work those worries and stresses away until you’re nothing but a sweaty mess, all shaky limbs and panting breathlessly at the ceiling without a single coherent thought in mind...
...but today Frank wouldn’t be back for a few more hours, and so you decide to take advantage of the quiet, empty apartment. Some days you’d wait, nerves strung and foot bouncing until he’s within arms reach and ready to chase all your shit away, but not today.
Today was rough, and you need something now.
The dildo isn’t new by any means, but you’ve found very little use of it since Frank had taken up a more permanent spot in your life. It’s exactly where you left it, and soon your pants are abandoned on the floor beside your bed.
You don’t bother undressing fully, you don’t even bother getting in the damn sheets. Your too impatient, too pissed off, too tense. It takes only seconds until your legs are spread, and you're spitting onto your fingers, smoothing them along the ridges along the toy and running the blunt tip of it through your folds and along your slit.
It's slides into your pussy with a bit of resistance, having not prepared yourself or the toy properly, but you see it through, and with a few smooth strokes, you feel your body start to warm to it, you feel the toy start to glide easier the more it moves within you and your hips start to meet the rhythm of your hand.
You picture Frank and how he looks moving above you, how he feels pressing you firmly into the mattress as his strong hands keep your thighs spread. You imagine the low gravel of his voice melting in your ear, telling you how good you feel, how good you're taking it and how crazy you drive him—
He's the last thing you expect to see when your eyes flutter open from a particularly deep hit of the toy, thick arms crossed over his chest and broad body braced comfortably up against the doorframe.
“H-how long have you been standing there?” You pant softly, not in the right mind to even feel the slightest bit embarrassed at getting caught in such a way.
“Long enough to enjoy the show,” he returns, a tug of a smirk pulling at one side of his lips, “you had a rough day, sweetheart?”
“Mm, you gonna get over here and help me, or just stand there?”
“Didn’t think you needed my help,” he rumbles, his grin briefly widening, “but I can’t say no to that.”
He steps into the room quietly, shrugging his jacket off while he does so before sinking a knee into the mattress and smoothing rough hands down your thighs. You go to remove the toy but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand pressing against yours and soon taking it over, pushing the dildo back deeper into your cunt until you’re whining softly from the pressure of it.
“Let’s leave it in, pretty girl,” he mutters hoarsely, sinking onto his front and letting his tongue run along his lower lip as he drags the thick length of silicone back and forth, watching the way your slick pussy spreads and swallows the toy.
He’s entranced. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, his eyes often unable to help but fall and study the way his own cock splits you open and takes you apart whenever he gets the opportunity, but it feels different here. It’s not his cock, but he’s the one controlling the toy—the speed, the depth…
The way your cunt parts for it, the way the silicone glistens with your creamy arousal when he brings the length out to where only the tip remains probing at your entrance… Jesus. He’s got a goddamn close up of the whole thing, and it’s got him feeling damn near pathetic as he fights to grind into the sheets to sate the borderline agonising throb of his hard cock pressing up against his jeans.
“God, look at you. You look so damn good baby, you’re takin’ it so well.”
You feel your chest heave at the praise, a slight pinch of impatience working it’s way between your brows at the slow pace he seems content using, “Frank—”
“Shh,” he soothes, pressing wet kisses along the inside of your thigh and feeling the jump of muscle under his lips, “you gonna let me have my turn, alright? Let me have my turn, and I’ll make it all better.”
His words melt against your core with a wash of hot air, and it takes everything in you to not buck your hips up in anticipation. Thankfully you don’t have to wait long. Lips soon press against your aching clit in a light kiss, before his thick tongue begins to roll firmly against the swollen nerve, languidly dragging up and down at the same pace he thrusts the toy in and out of you.
It’s fucking maddening. It’s perfect.
He takes his time working you up, alternating between working his tongue over your clit in practised, methodical strokes that have your thighs tensing and toes curling, to sucking it softly into his mouth until the walls of your pussy flutter and clench around the hard, unforgiving surface of the dildo he keeps you full with.
It’s not long until you feel that flood of heat start to spread out along your limbs from your core, the familiar churning and tightening of a climax hanging just out of reach until your thighs start to tremble beside his head. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, curling tightly around the shortened strands in an effort to ground yourself as you begin to feel the end approaching.
He groans deeply against you, spurred on by the brief flash of pain along his scalp, and the vibration of his mouth against you as it works away is enough to push you that last little needed distance until you’re off the edge completely.
You fall with a sharp cry, bucking weakly against his mouth from the assault of blissful double stimulation through your orgasm and unintentionally fucking yourself deeper onto the dildo, dragging out your orgasm and milking it for all its worth.
Stars dance along your vision as you come down from your high, and your body practically melts into the mattress beneath you when he finally lets up and breaks away from your clit with a wet smack of lips, still keeping the toy buried to its hilt in your cunt.
“I’m wonderin’…” he murmurs, his voice barely breaking through the thick haze drowning your mind, “you think you could take me as well, sweetheart?”
#foli's 3k#frank castle x reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle x you#frank castle imagine#the punisher fanfiction#marvel fanfiction
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
Please, Mr. Ghost Face
Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)
Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.
Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!
Word count: 7.2k
AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.
You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.
You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.
“Right, I think I'm ready!”
You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.
“So, what did you decide to go as?”
You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.
“Did you figure it out?”
Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.
“Shit, sorry.”
You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.
“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”
Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.
Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.
The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.
“Oh, fuck.”
You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.
“Think it'll do?”
You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.
“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”
You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.
“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”
“Corner shop.”
He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.
The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.
Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.
“What?”
The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”
Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.
“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”
You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.
“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”
Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.
“Mmmmm, fuck.”
He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.
“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”
Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.
Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.
Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.
A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.
He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.
His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.
“Oh, there he is.”
You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“You try that shit one more time-”
He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.
“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”
“Oh.”
You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.
“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”
Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.
You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.
With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.
“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”
Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.
“What?”
You ask once the phone call is over.
“You're the one who said it's not happening.”
***
You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.
“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”
Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.
“Just go.”
You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.
“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”
The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.
“Whatever you say, Frankie.”
***
This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.
You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.
You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.
With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.
It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.
He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.
He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.
“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”
She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.
“Are we showing our costumes off?”
Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.
“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”
“Oh, fun!”
Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.
“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”
***
Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.
“Hi.”
You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.
“You gotta put the mask on.”
“Mind your business, yeah?”
He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.
“Frankie-“
You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.
“Leave it.”
He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.
There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.
“Took you long enough.”
You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.
“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”
He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.
“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”
“Stop.”
His voice harsh with the warning.
“Why?”
You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.
“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”
Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.
“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”
You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.
“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”
You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.
“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”
“Yeah?”
You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.
“Make me.”
The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.
There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.
“F-”
He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.
“That's it.”
Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.
Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.
You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.
There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.
“Keep it on.”
You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.
“Jesus fucking-”
Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.
“Seriously, this shit again?”
You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.
“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”
You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.
Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.
“Alright.”
He slowly pulls the mask back on.
“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”
Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.
“Your fucking call.”
His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.
The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.
His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.
There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.
“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”
He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.
You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.
“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”
“Oh, shut up.”
You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.
“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"
Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.
“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”
Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.
Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.
There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.
“That shit really gets you that bad?”
One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.
You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.
“Oh, you've got no idea.”
You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.
“Think I got some.”
He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.
“You get off on these things, huh?”
He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.
“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”
He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.
You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.
“Yeah, you got me.”
You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.
“You got me but-”
“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”
He thinks he has you now.
“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."
The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.
“You know what would help?”
You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.
“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”
His grip on you tightens with your words.
“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”
It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.
Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.
“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”
You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.
“This what you fucking want?”
He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,
“You're fucking sick, you know that?”
He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.
“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”
He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.
“God d-“
He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.
Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.
You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.
“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”
You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.
“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”
He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.
Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.
“Fuck.”
You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.
You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.
“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”
Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.
“The knife got you this close?”
You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.
With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”
You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.
“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”
And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.
“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”
He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.
“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”
Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.
“Fuuuuuuuck-“
He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.
Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.
You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.
You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.
“Shit.”
You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.
“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”
You tease and he follows up with a scoff.
“Yeah okay, c'mere.”
He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.
“Attagirl.”
He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.
“See? You can be nice sometimes.”
He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.
The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.
You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.
You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.
“Frank.”
You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.
“Mhhh.”
He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.
“Frank-”
Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.
Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.
He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.
“Shit, Frankie...”
You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.
You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.
You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.
“You okay?”
He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.
“Fair.”
He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.
Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.
“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”
You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.
“I don’t wanna think about that.”
You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.
“Yeah I bet.”
He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.
He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.
“Can you walk?”
He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.
“Shut up.”
You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.
“Oh yeah, sorry.”
He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.
“Can you walk?”
He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”
“Okay, that’s it. Out.”
He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.
“You wanna get the hell out of here?”
“Yeah.”
You nod.
“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”
You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.
“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”
His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.
“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”
You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.
“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank catsle x reader#the punisher#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher x reader#frank catsle x you#marvel punisher#frank catsle smut#jon bernthal#jon bernthal character#frank catsle fan fiction#jon bernthal fanfiction
450 notes
·
View notes
Text
First, Last & Only
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You don’t know his name yet, or much about the life of the tall and brooding coffee-addict that likes sitting on your section. The only thing you know, besides his favorite beverage, is that he’s traveling across the country, and that this little town in Indiana is just one more stop in his journey. He’s been staying at Odell’s Motel for a few weeks and during that time, he’s become a regular customer at the diner you work at, and sort of acquaintance of yours. His order is always hot black coffee. If you had it on tap, he'd drink it directly from it, you believe.
Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Fluff, Smut, Making Out, Vaginal Sex, Unsafe Sex, Pet Names, Coffee, Alcohol, Mention of Death and Kidnapping.
Word Count: 4,5k
A/N: This was inspired by the first episode of season 2 of the punisher. Reader is loosely based on Beth, but works at a diner instead, makes pottery, and has a cat.
— Read below or at AO3.
“If this was a bar, this would be the time to ask for your keys and call you a cab,” you smile, refilling your most notable bearded patron's mug.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” his voice sounds like gravel covered in molasses when he uses that pet name, only for you. “If I promise not to drive, would you sit down and have a cup with me?”
“I uh…” you quickly glance around the diner. There’s only one more customer left at the counter. “Sure, let me finish first.”
The man sitting at the booth gives a small nod, lifting his cup to his lips. You brush his shoulder with your free hand before walking back behind the bar.
You don’t know his name yet, or much about the life of the tall and brooding coffee-addict that likes sitting on your section. The only thing you know, besides his favorite beverage, is that he’s traveling across the country, and that this little town in Indiana is just one more stop in his journey. He’s been staying at Odell’s Motel for a few weeks and during that time, he’s become a regular customer at the diner you work at, and sort of acquaintance of yours. His order is always hot black coffee. If you had it on tap, he'd drink it directly from it, you believe. Rare nights he’s had any food. A couple of times, you’ve comped him with a sandwich or a piece of pie to make up for the fact that he always leaves generous tips.
As you set the pot in its place, you smile in his direction one more time before going back to your task. The kitchen has closed already and all you have left to do is clean your station.
While you wipe the tables, you casually glance at him from the corner of your eye to see him peering out the window as usual, like a dog on neighborhood watch. He seems to do that a lot. It looks like a habit; like you chewing the inside of your mouth when you're too focused on a task.
The next time you gaze at him, however, you catch him staring back at you, and you quickly avert your eyes away to your hand, wiping a rag on the sticky surface of the fourth booth.
You're not sure why, but you revel in the fact that he might be still staring at you right now.
Probably. Hopefully.
Do you want him to look at you and see you past the mustard-yellow uniform and white apron?
Maybe you're just lonely and can't help but see signs that aren't there. But like a moth to a flame, when you look at him a third time, his eyes, as you hoped, are still fixed on you as if wanted to pin you against the wall.
He's not a man of many words, but his stare speaks volumes right now. There are no mixed signals there. You've witnessed a handful of times that urge, that darkness, that comes from a primal desire. Whether it is voluntary or not, you can't say. But clearly, it isn't all in your head.
As you carry the tray with dirty dishes to the sink, you manage to contain the itch at the corner of your lip to curl into a grin.
“Look, they’ve found the two missing girls,” Hermann, the man at the counter, points at the TV, driving your attention to the screen above the bar.
You listen closely to the newscaster from the local channel at the scene, narrating how the two teenagers were locked in a basement in the outskirts of town for over a month, up until this morning. A stranger appeared out of the blue, told them they were safe now, before smashing the bolted door open. When they climbed out the staircase, their captor was dead in the living room, hanging by the neck on a wooden beam, and the vigilante that helped them escape was nowhere to be found. Presumably he was the one that killed their kidnapper, the police suspects. After all the information and gritty details, there’s some brief footage of the girls reuniting with their families before moving on to the next story.
“At least they’re home now,” you settle the dishes down, wash your hands, and pick up the money Hermann left on the counter.
“Have a good night, honey,” the old trucker says before heading out the door.
“Yeah, you too.”
Once Hermann is out, you’re left alone with the mystery man in the booth. It’s then that you pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit at the other side of the table.
“Guess nobody's waiting home for you either,” you say casually, capturing the warmth of the mug on your palms.
“What gave it away?”
“I don't know… Lonely recognizes loneliness, I suppose.”
“You feel lonely, sweetheart?”
“Sometimes,” your shoulders give a small shrug. “Don't you?”
He pauses, swallows as his stare goes down for a second to the beat of his tapping finger on the mug, “all the damn time.”
“Is that why you come here every other night and sit alone?”
“It's complicated.”
“I bet.”
As you take a sip from your mug, tall-dark and handsome produces something from the inside pocket of his jacket.
“I believe this is yours.” He slides a silver charm bracelet across the table that you thought you'd lost. “I found it on the floor the other day. I was going to give it back, but you were busy… I saw the clasp was broken and I–”
“You fixed it!” this time you can't really stop the smile taking over your lips. “I keep forgetting to take it off for work. I thought I'd never see it again. Thanks.”
“Don't mention it. I could tell it was important to you.”
Your chin bows as you secure the bracelet around your wrist.
“I was gonna leave it on the table and take off. But it felt… I guess it felt a little impersonal. And I'm leaving tomorrow and wanted to say goodbye.”
“Oh, you're going on a trip?”
“No, I don't think I won't be coming back. You were kind to me and thought I ought to tell you.”
Though you were seemingly aware that he was bound to leave at some point, you can't help but feel a little disappointed at the failed prospect of getting to know him better.
“I uh… I don't know what to say. I guess I'll miss seeing you around… Don't even know your name.”
There's a light pull up on the corner of his mouth as he spells his name, “Frank.”
“Hm,” you let it sink in for a moment as you try to erase the made up names your mind gave him. “I thought you were a Nathan.”
“Who's Nathan?”
“Someone that used to live around here. You remind me of him, so I gave you his name. It's stupid.”
“You've been thinking about me?”
“I don't know… Sometimes. I don't have anything significant going on in my life. Girl's gotta have some entertainment and mysterious guys like you, Frank, that come and go, and sit here for hours really help pass the time some days.”
“Glad to be of service,” he huffs, lifting the cup to his lips.
“Listen. This might be a terrible idea, but since I won't see you again, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink with me. I mean something stronger than this,” you tap your mug with your nail twice.
There goes that stare again that makes your stomach drop. It's even darker up close but gentle and cautious. His eyes travel to your lips, and it feels like an eternity until they finally lock again with yours.
“Yeah, I'd like that.”
Taking a customer home might be the craziest thing you've ever done. It's not really like you to be that forward toward someone you hardly know, but there's something about Frank that fascinates you and pushes you into getting out of your comfort zone.
When your shift is over, you trade your uniform for a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater, while Frank waits outside by your car. He knows exactly which one belongs to you cause one night, while he was driving that flashy, big van of his, he happened to drive by you in the middle of the road, changing a tire. You didn't need assistance, but it was late and having his presence there eased you up.
“You're not like a stalker or a serial killer, are you?” you ask in a moment of trepidation before unlocking your car.
“Would a serial killer tell you that they're a serial killer?”
“I guess not.”
“Look, we can call it a night, sweetheart. No hard feelings.”
“C’mon, get in,” you grin, firmly using your chin to point at the passenger door.
During the short drive to your house, you poke around for some more information about what he was doing in town exactly and where he's going next. As usual, he doesn't give you more than a few vague answers. However, you do learn that he doesn't really have a destination in mind at the moment. He's just driving aimlessly.
After putting your bag down, you give Frank a quick tour around the living space.
“If you see a cat around, don't let her sit on your lap. She’s very territorial and likes to pee on strangers,” you warn him from the kitchen, collecting two glasses from the cabinet along with a bottle of bourbon while he curiously looks around the place.
“Got it,” you can hear a chuckle in his voice as his eyes are drawn to the messy dining table that holds an assortment of homemade pottery like bowls, plates, vases, mugs, jars… that you craft and sell online.
“Do you make these?”
“Uh-hm,” you hand him his glass and silently tap your glasses together before taking a sip at the same time. “You like them?”
“Yeah, they’re something…” he lowers his glass and slowly scans your creations, “I can't find the word for it… but they’re unique. I like the texture. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It’s Wabi-sabi.”
“Wabi-sabi?” his hand smooths his beard, letting a finger slide in the middle.
“Yeah, it’s Japanese. Simply put, it’s the philosophical concept of embracing the beauty of imperfection and simplicity that comes naturally from age or wear. Whether it’s something personal or purely artistic. It’s about accepting, loving, and living with those flaws in harmony. Like your nose.”
“What about my nose?”
“It’s kinda broken, but it fits with your face.”
He bashfully looks down at the amber liquid in his glass before taking a swig.
“Did you go to art school?”
You shake your head, and gesture at the couch, “I took a few classes at the community center when I was younger, then picked up a few techniques from books, videos… It’s mostly self-taught.”
“You’re really gifted,” Frank follows you and takes a seat on the armchair while you kick off your shoes and sit crossed-legged on the couch.
“I’m not. If I was, I wouldn’t have to moonlight as a waitress to keep the lights on. What do you do for a living, Frank?” You lift your drink to your lips.
“This and that. Construction for the most part.”
“Any secret talents I should know about?”
“Not really.”
“Hm. You’ve really mastered the man of mystery art, though.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.”
“I just… I’m not good at this. Talking to people. Or beautiful women like you.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Gorgeous,” he says under a breath, gazing intensely at you with those piercing browns that make your stomach flutter.
Trapping your bottom lip, you shyly glance down, unable to say anything other than a small, “thanks.”
“I’m not good at this either,” you confess after a beat. “I don't usually bring men that I hardly know home like this.”
“Does it make you nervous that I’m here?”
You lightly shake your head, “I don’t know why, but I trust you, Frank.”
“I trust you, too. It's funny how that works.”
“Yeah.”
You throw your glass back, downing half of it, letting it burn your throat and giving you the courage to stand up and take his hand.
Without objection, Frank laces his fingers with yours. His warm, large paw encloses almost your whole hand as you kiss his cheek, and guide him to your bedroom. Your heart pumps faster along the hallway and slightly settles when you turn on the lamp and feel Frank giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
As you turn to him, he releases your hand to hold your face instead. He captures your eyes with such care in his sweet browns, making your knees weak. His thumbs softly caress your cheeks and when he's ready, his head leans closer to press a chaste kiss on your lips. His beard tickles your skin, making your lips curve up the second time he sweetly captures your mouth. On the third try, his lips part and nibble your bottom lip. He lingers a bit longer before opening wider.
You close your eyes and follow his lead. It's hard not to. He takes it nice and slow, letting you get used to having his hands and lips on you.
Tentatively, you frame his waist while his tongue softly moves past your lips. Almost like asking for permission to enter, it swipes the curve of your mouth first and waits for your approval. You hum softly as you send yours to find the bittersweet taste of coffee mixed with bourbon lingering all over his mouth.
Once he's crossed that threshold, you both surrender to that underlying desire that's been clearly building up for weeks. One second is all paced and measured, the next one, he's eagerly stealing all the air from your lungs, claiming your mouth as his own.
“Wow,” you pull back to breathe, “I think I’ve found your secret talent.”
“Yeah?”
Top tier, you think, biting the inside of your cheek as your gaze falls to your own hands, still clinging to his sides. You watch them carefully move to unzip his black hoodie.
Transfixed, he watches your fingers just the same, letting you bare his skin. There's no shirt underneath when you push it behind his shoulders, just his hairless Greek-God defined torso molded in flesh and bones, adorned with several scars.
Frank lets the hoodie fall to the floor as you undo his belt, and tug the waistband of his jeans and step backwards in the direction of your bed.
“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” That's the word, the pet name, that makes you melt like ice-cream left on the sun-bathed pavement on a hot summer day.
“I've never been so sure of anything in my life,” you overstate on behalf of that dormant lust that has been neglected for months.
His lips curve up as he pulls the hem of your knitted sweater over your head. Subconsciously, you then cover his eyes the next second before he can take a good look at you in your underwear. His mouth splits his beard into a smile that shows his perfect, bright teeth. Your palm runs down his face, stroking his beard and when his eyes are uncovered, instead of looking down, his browns stay locked with your gaze. His head leans close, as one of his hands holds your jaw, keeping your face still while he steals another kiss from your lips.
When his face pulls back, he softly draws the curve of your wet lip with his thumb pad, reverberating under his breath, “absolutely gorgeous.”
It's a good thing the mattress is right behind you, cause you feel like swooning. You sit down and look up at him as your back falls down against the covers.
His pointer finger makes first contact with your skin, tracing a line down your stomach, producing a good laugh out of you.
You beckon him with just a look and a lip bite, and Frank takes that as an invitation to help your legs shimmy out of your jeans. His stare darkens at the first sight of your almost naked form. You could've picked sexier underwear if you knew this would be happening tonight, you think. It’s not like it matters, anyway, cause you can tell it's not going to last much longer on you as soon as he unzips his boots and crawls on top of you, nestling between your legs.
The buckle of his belt presses on your skin as he claims your mouth one more time, with feeling. One of his hands slips between your hair as the sweet undoing of his tongue drives you out of this world. Your palms land on his back, nails dig in his flesh as his hips roll slowly, rubbing his growing bulge in the right spot.
There's an electric force at the tip of his tongue, an urgency of his hand to wrap around your neck without pressing. It makes you hold your breath, makes him feel in control. If he wanted to squeeze the lights out of you, he could. It should frighten you, but it does just the opposite. Your core aches at the thought of letting him use your body however he'd like.
His work becomes more sloppy and needy the harder his erection strains behind the denim fabric. He curls an arm beneath you, blindly fumbles with his fingers to undo the clasp of your bra.
Once he’s rid of it, the rest of your underwear follows the same path to the floor, and so does his own clothes.
His head bows, planting his lips on your abdomen, and from there he leaves a trail of wet kisses and beard tickles up to your sternum. One of his large paws is drawn to your breast as his lips veer off the path to find your opposite nipple. He gently nibbles the hard peak, as your back arches. You sigh in pure delight, letting your fingers weave into his mop of curls as his puckered lips blow cool air over the wet patch he's left. It makes your skin buzz as he moves to the other one to pay it the same attention.
You're drenched in your own juices when you adjust your legs as he carefully guides his firm cock to your entrance. Looking at the ceiling, you shut your eyes as the blunt tip breeches and stretches your wet walls. It feels as big as it looks, takes all the room, but doesn't hurt one bit.
Propping his elbows on either side of your head, he waits for you to be ready to roll.
“You good, sweetheart?”
Your eyes flick open, “yeah, just… go slow.”
With a tender curve of his lips, he nods as you experimentally move your hips back and forth, taking him a little further in.
Frank moves with you, following your cues. His mouth stays close to yours, breathing you in, watching you enjoy yourself as your walls get slicker and tender stroke after stroke. It helps you move a little faster each time as you get used to his size.
First times are always awkward, but there's something about Frank that makes you feel at ease. Ironically, this is the first, last, and only time you'll have him like this. Which is something that just dawns on you as your breathing quickens.
The embers of your core turn to flames and spread like wildfire across your body, consuming every thought and nerve ending for the sake of that final gratification.
You moan Frank's name, and use your hands to push his ass lower, coaxing him to go faster, dig deeper. Every inch of your body deliciously aches with each thrust, each grunt with your name laced to it, and that beautiful beard that brushes your skin after every push. His firm body grows hotter and firmer beneath your palms. Once you've given him the go, he doesn't hold himself back. His drive is sharp and nimble.
Frank buries his face in your neck as the room is filled with a symphony of grunts and moans, measured by the adamant rhythm of his hips slapping against yours.
You close your eyes and savor this moment as he slowly takes you up to cloud nine. It's a daunting climb, but he takes the challenge and waits for the right second to fall off the edge with you. As your opening contracts around him, and you ride that torrent of pleasure that overcomes you, he releases the most animalistic grunt you've ever heard when his seed spurts all over your walls.
A man like him hasn't ever trembled in your arms after an orgasm. His body goes completely limp on top of you. And you hold him close, petting the wet curls as his nape while he slips out of you and that high slowly ebbs.
“And you said you had no talents,” you say hoarsely, with a dopey smirk plastered on your face.
“I don’t like boasting,” he grins against your skin before lifting his head tiredly to look at you.
Combing your fingers in his hair, you push back those tousled-damp curls off his forehead.
“Well, If I had known you'd be that gifted, I’d have invited you over sooner.”
“Yeah?” Biting his lower lip, his head dips to sweetly seize your mouth.
“Hm-hmm.”
“I can stay all night if you want. Could make it up to you for all the time wasted. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
What the hell. If this is the only time he'd be in your bed, better take the chance of making this a memorable night, you think.
You simply nod and watch up close, one of your fingers slide across the texture of the pockmarks on his cheekbone.
“You like those? Is it wasabi, too?”
“Wabi-sabi,” you point out with a light chuckle, “and yes, I like them. They're like moon craters.”
Cradling his nape, you pull his face down and kiss that beautiful spot on his cheek, before settling his head on your shoulder.
He hugs you back and stays in that position for a while, in comfortable silence, as you gather the strength to switch places with him and go for a second round. Straddling on his lap is a vastly different experience. You ride him slowly, while he molds your figure to the shape of his hands. There's no place left untouched when you're done, and shortly after, you both go at it a third time as if you were running a marathon. You share stories and drinks and food in between a haze of sex, kisses, and hugs before finally succumbing to slumber a couple of hours before dawn.
You’re the first one to wake up a few hours later. The sun is already out and before slipping out of bed, you watch Frank for a minute, committing to memory the relaxed expression of his rough features. Then, you carefully pad out of the room to fill your cat’s bowls with food and water and find her sleeping in her favorite spot behind the couch. She only rises from her resting position at the sound of the coffee maker. Soon, she’s slinking between your feet as you go around the kitchen and doesn't stop until you pick her up, give her a kiss and a cuddle, and settle her beside her food bowl.
“Morning,” you hear Frank’s early husky voice as he steps into the kitchen wearing only his pair of jeans.
“Good morning,” your lips curve watching him prop his hands on the edge of the breakfast bar. “Guess you smelled the coffee brewing, huh?”
“Guess so. It’s like a Pavlovian response, I can’t help it.”
You snort, gesturing at bar stools, “please, take a seat.”
“It should be me making you breakfast,” Frank settles his ass on the stool.
“Force of habit. Sorry.”
“I was starting to think you had an imaginary cat,” he points at your furry friend focused on her food.
“No, she's very real. She just likes hiding at night.”
You place a couple of mugs on the counter, fill Frank’s up close to the rim, and only pour half of yours.
“Be careful, it’s hot,” you place his coffee in front of him.
Frank scoffs, picking it up and lifting it up to his lips as he says, “that's never stopped me.”
You dread every second left after that, knowing that once he’s out the door, you won’t see him again. You’ve grown used to having him around the diner and last night, what you two shared, was just one of the best things that’s ever happened to you lately.
Rather than expressing that out loud, you put one of your handmade mugs in a box and give it to him as a parting gift.
Then, you drive him back to the motel he’s been staying at.
“Thanks for the mug,” he gives you one last tight hug. “Take care, yeah?”
“You know… you could stay a little bit longer,” you awkwardly suggest when he releases you. “We have that roast you like coming in today, I think. If not for me, at least do it for the free coffee.”
“That’s tempting, but I gotta move on now, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I get it,” you sigh, tucking your hands in your jacket's pockets, as one of his palms moves to hold your chin. His head tilts to the side to leave one last kiss on your cheek before stepping away.
After climbing into your car, Frank closes the door for you, and watches you from the sidewalk as you drive away before collecting his bags from his temporary room.
You go back to your usual routine after that little adventure you had with him. You run some errands around town, mail some orders from your online shop, go grocery shopping and have some lunch before your shift at the diner.
Frank barely leaves your mind that day, especially after you slip into your uniform and open the new coffee order in the pantry and start a new batch.
“I swear he has a thing for you,” Jody, friend and fellow waitress, says as you work the coffee maker.
“Who?”
“The hipster. He’s in your section again. Look.”
You frown and turn your head to see Frank sitting in his booth, flicking the pages of a newspaper. A smile instantly takes over your lips as you try to hold the excitement of running towards him.
“Wow, I guess you have a thing for him too. I don’t know how I missed that,” she realizes. “Well, go on, say hi before someone swoops him up.”
Swallowing, you wait till the pot is filled to walk over his table.
Frank licks his lips when he sees you stepping closer, and turns over the mug sitting on the middle table.
“So, how far did you get?” you hold the pot steady, filling the cup.
“Dunno… a couple of hours, give or take.”
“Hmm.”
“Guess it took me a second to realize how good that coffee was.”
“Want something to eat with that?”
“Maybe later when you’re done… we could… would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
#beardthalbash#frank castle#frank castle x reader#the punisher fanfiction#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal smut#jon bernthal#the punisher#darlingwrites#smut#fluff
737 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teacher
Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader
Summary: Frank's a part of your friend group and invites you to hang out one day, unaware of your massive crush on him. During the visit, you let it slip that you're very inexperienced, and he offers to teach you everything you've missed out on.
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex, drinking, and smoking
Author's Note: Oh my god! It's finally here, my first fic series! I've had this idea for months now and I've finally got the courage to write it out and post it. I wanna say a huge thank you to @chellestrash and @suitsofwo3 for their continuous support on this series! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!
Word Count: 5k
To say you had feelings for Frank Castle would be a gross understatement. It was truly nothing short of a schoolgirl crush, an all consuming infatuation that made you want him even more. Being anywhere near him made you feel like you were back in grade school with an uncontrollable flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and you knew you had to at least try and attempt to cease their movements.
But knowing and acting are two very different things, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to stop them. Not when every smile he flashes your way makes them beat their tiny wings so fast that you feel weak in the knees. You knew logically it couldn’t end well, not with him being in your friend group, but you had a feeling you could keep up the friendly facade and not let it slip that your feelings for him are much more intense.
After all, he’s confident, handsome, and much older than you. How hard could it be?
“How hard could it be,” you repeat, whispering to yourself in the car. Your eyes are trained on the road in front of you as you listen while your GPS navigates you through the city. Frank had invited you over to his place after the last get-together the group had, where you admitted to the fact that you hadn’t seen his, apparently, favorite movie from the ‘80s. It was almost too perfect of a setup and you curse the universe for planning it all. Of all the movies you haven’t seen, you had to confess to this one?
In your defense, it was nearly impossible to decline his offer when his charm flared up like it had that night. Boisterous laughter, crinkles by his eyes when he grinned, and a, “Come on, you’ve gotta see it!” that was so warm and welcoming it had you agreeing before you thought about the implications of that damn nod you gave him.
Thinking back on that night, you nearly miss your turn onto the road that leads to his apartment. You catch it just in time though and as the automated voice informs you that he lives on the left, the anxiety sets in. You begin to focus on your breathing and you find an open parking spot right next to his black van, exactly where he said there would be. Mentally thanking him for eliminating some of the pressure of finding where to park, you pull into the spot and look towards the door with the metal numbers of his address bolted on the plaque beside it.
Once the car is parked and the ignition is off, you close your eyes and inhale enough air until your chest puffs out. “It’s just Frank,” you reassure yourself, attempting to slow down your heart rate. It does little use as his face flashes in your mind when you speak his name, so you decide not to delay the meeting any longer.
With a dry mouth and fidgeting hands you make your way to his apartment, giving yourself one last full breath before raising your hand to knock on his door. Your knuckles sound out against the wood, and there’s only a second of silence before you hear a muffled, “Coming!”
The brief moment to plaster a relaxed smile on your face passes all too quickly and you’re suddenly met with Frank’s warm grin. Failing to ignore the way he’s leaning against the doorframe, you can’t help your eyes immediately glancing at his bicep as it stretches the fabric of his sleeve. You quickly force your gaze back to his face and give yourself a mental shake.
“Hey, kid, glad you could make it,” he greets you kindly. You’d be lying if you said the nickname he reserved for you wasn’t bittersweet. It made you feel special that it only left his lips in reference to you, but logically you knew it was because you were the youngest in the group. The truly bitter part was hearing it and feeling your heart sink that little bit lower; you wondered if he ever saw you as more, if you’d ever be able to satisfy your steadfast crush.
But those spiral sessions are best had at home, so you push away the thoughts and focus on spending time with him. All you’ve ever wanted was time alone with him and you’re not sure when you’ll get the chance again after today.
“Yeah, of course,” your genuine smile takes over, ”I had to see what all the fuss was about.” He chuckles at your joke before stepping aside, gesturing for you to come in. Squeezing past his body, you step into the living room of his home. It’s bigger than you expected, housing a sectional couch and wooden coffee table in the center. There’s also a large television mounted to the wall that’s clearly the main focus of the room. One sweatshirt and a lone blanket are draped on the back of the couch, making up the only clutter in the space. You don’t realize Frank is watching you take it all in until he gently clears his throat.
“Is it as glorious as you expected?” His voice sounds out from behind you and you turn to face him. There’s a smirk on his face and you find yourself chuckling to avoid shrinking into yourself.
“Just… different than I pictured is all,” you gesture vaguely to the open space of the room. There’s a scoff before he walks past you and towards the light grey couch.
“‘Clean’, you mean?” There’s a huff surrounding the question as he plops down onto the couch.
“Well…” you trail off, tilting your head to the side. A smile slowly takes over his face as you tease him.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says as he pats the cushion of the couch. You follow his instruction, opting to keep one seat between the two of you. There’s a pause for a moment and you let your eyes wander to his thighs. His legs are slightly spread on the couch and it’s hard to ignore the way the fabric of his denim jeans are struggling to make room for the muscles of his thighs.
“So you really haven’t seen the greatest film of all time?” He begins again, disbelief clear in his tone. His voice makes your line of sight shoot back up to his face and it’s now your turn to wear a smile.
“You sure are creating a lot of hype for this movie. I hope it doesn’t disappoint,” you laugh softly. His eyes grow wide as a look of shock takes over his face.
“‘Disappoint’? You kiddin’ me? I’m pretty sure this movie paved the way for cinema.” He gets up excitedly, walking towards one of the thin bookshelves that frame the television. His fingers scan the titles quickly, trailing down the rows until he finds one. He pulls the case out from where it was sandwiched between the others before turning around to show it off with a wave of his hand.
“Made sure to rewind it for you yesterday.” You try to ignore the way your brain jumps to conclusions at those few words. The thoughts are loud, however, and you hear them despite your wishes. He really thought this ahead? Was he actually looking forward to seeing you?
Frank pulls the tape from out of its case and kneels down in front of the television. There’s a large, grey VCR lying on the ground and he gently pushes the tape past the small hinge, a tiny whirring sound escaping as it accepts the tape.
“God, I’m really showing my age here, aren’t I?” He nods towards the old technology on the wooden floor.
“I mean, I’ve seen my parents use them before,” you answer honestly.
“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, bringing his palm to cover his face before dragging it down his cheeks. The giggle that escapes you is involuntary, he looks so cute each time you tease him. You love these moments and how effortless it is to joke around with him, unlike when your usually constant bashfulness is present.
Once the tape is in, the static on the screen crackles to life and there’s a few seconds before the black fades into a dusty orange sky. As the opening scene begins to play, you feel like you recognize the actors’ names as they appear over the footage. Nothing immediately comes to mind though, so you ignore the nagging feeling of trying to place them and focus on the film.
That proves to be more difficult than you intended. Admittedly, all you can think about is his scent lingering in the space around you. It’s almost as if the couch is bathed in his smell and it feels as though you’re drowning in it in the best way. You halfway register the dialogue sounding out and decide to at least entertain the idea of paying attention. There’s a shot of the inside of an airport, and you watch as the word Diehard comes across the center of the screen. Chuckles erupt from you and Frank’s immediately turning to face you with a confused pout.
“You think Diehard is the greatest movie of all time?” Your words are unintentionally soaked in disbelief and you swear you can see his defensive guard come up.
“You tryna’ tell me it’s not?! Cause it’s clearly up there!”
“I don’t know, Frank,” you start. Each time the film is brought up around you, you hear that it’s either the best or it’s overrated. You just didn’t expect him to be this much of a fan.
“That’s right! You don’t know!” He seems proud of his argument and even laughs towards the end of his sentence. You shake your head as your smile begins to hurt your cheeks due to how long you’ve been wearing it for. He reaches for the old remote, its buttons faded with its age, and the screen halts to a stop as he presses pause.
“I’ll be right back,” Frank explains with a grunt as he pushes himself off of the couch. You turn and watch him walk to the kitchen, your eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and how they almost brush the open doorframe as he passes through it. Not wanting to let your thoughts continue any more down the path they’re already on, you force your attention back to the television and wait for him to return.
“Here you are,” his deep voice sounds out a moment later and you look up at him. He’s sitting down onto the couch cushion with the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the necks of two beer bottles. He stretches his arm towards you, offering one of the drinks and you’re distracted by the veins running up the inside of his forearm.
“What? S’there somethin’ wrong?” he asks confusedly, his own gaze glancing between your clasped hands and the bottles. You snap out of your trance and stare at the beers again, racking your brain for any excuse to use to decline the drink.
“No, thank you, I’m all good,” your voice comes out stiff. Real smooth, you curse yourself as you see Frank’s expression change. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to understand your sudden and strange behavior.
“So what’s your deal, huh?” he begins, setting the bottles down and leaning back into the couch. His entire body is turned towards you and it’s clear that you’re the new subject of the conversation. You swallow thickly, your nerves already acting up.
“Never seen you drink, never seen you smoke… Hell, I haven’t seen you do much of anything,” he continues, listing his examples off on each finger. “Why is that? You some goody two shoes or something?” he finishes with a raspy chuckle. He reaches for his beer, popping the lid off with the opener from the coffee table and taking a long sip as his eyes meet yours over the glass in his hand.
You wish you could come up with something, anything, to get you out of this situation before you’re forced to confess to him. You open your mouth, expecting your tongue to string the words together for you, but there’s nothing but silence in the room. Quickly, you begin grasping for an explanation, only to be left stuttering over your words. Frank’s eyebrows raise and there’s an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he puts his drink down again.
“Uh oh,” he laughs quietly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He squints at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes flicker all around your face. “There’s somethin’ else there,” he whispers mostly to himself, “gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”
If none of this was enough to make your face grow warm, it certainly is now that you’ve heard the pet name leave his mouth. You feel as if you’re curling inward on yourself and you hate that the ground won’t show you mercy by opening up and swallowing you whole. Fidgeting with your fingers, you wonder if there’s any lie you can try and deliver confidently this time. But who are you kidding? You were never good at it, and it’s best to just rip off the bandaid.
With one last glance up at him, you see he’s not going to budge until he gets an answer, so you give him what he’s looking for. “Yeah, that’s… ‘my deal’,” you phrase his words in air quotes. “I haven’t really done, well, anything, and I don’t really know where to start,” you admit, still not looking him in the eyes. Frank nods as he lets your voice fill the air and you notice him making another curious face.
“When you say ‘anything’, what exactly do you mean?” he asks in a softer tone this time, no hint of teasing in his words. It’s then that you finally meet his brown eyes and see the kindness in their warm color. You bring in a deep breath and prepare yourself for the worst possible reaction to your following words.
“Um—,” you cut yourself off with a sigh, letting out all the air in your lungs and attempting to stall the embarrassment a moment longer. “Okay, like drinking, smoking, drugs…” you continue the list and watch him nod after each addition. “Never had sex, never—,”
“Bullshit,” his rumbly voice interrupts you, shaking his head in disbelief. The pout that forms on your lips is involuntary; you feared he wouldn’t have believed it, but you suppose it’s better than him teasing you. From the corner of your eyes you watch his lips part and his jaw go slack as he realizes what you said was the truth.
“Christ, you… you’re serious?” he questions as he looks at you in shock. You only nod silently, not sure how to continue from here. There’s a long pause where Frank is still as stone, remaining silent but seemingly trying to process the new information he’s discovered. The air feels so thick you worry that if you open your mouth to speak you’ll only choke.
The sound of a rumbly chuckle fills the air and you look up to see his wide smile. He’s dragging his palm down his mouth and rubbing his jaw as he shifts his hips forward and leans back into the cushions once more. You feel anger bubbling up and it quickly replaces the mortification that had been consuming you for the past few minutes.
“Screw you! I knew you wouldn’t have taken it seriously.” You cross your arms over your chest as you turn away from him. You felt stupid for sharing this with him, and now he has the audacity to laugh? Over something this personal?
“No, no, sweetheart, hey—,“ the pet name again does nothing to dull the burning under the skin of your cheeks. “I wasn’t teasing it’s just…,” he sighs heavily and shrugs his shoulders, “it’s a surprise, y’know?”
As much as you want to stay upset with him, you’re not sure your resolve can last that long. You attempt to maintain your defensive position and don’t dare soften the angry glare you’re shooting at him.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he starts, but you don’t budge. “C’mon, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it, s’all. Kinda hard to believe, honestly.” Your head perks up at the last sentence and you shoot him a look of pure disbelief.
“Yeah, well… you’re obviously the only one who thinks that,” you mumble, the self-deprecating words falling past your lips before you even register them. Frank sighs deeply and you notice the way his eyes are flickering all around your face, presumably trying to gauge how upset you are.
“It’s not like I want this,” you huff, deflating into the couch, “but now it’s like even if I want to try stuff, I don’t know what I’m doing.” You begin picking at your fingers as the insecurity grows with his silence. “It’s like everybody did the crash course in high school and they have experience. I don't even know where to start…” As you trail off, the silence becomes deafening and you find yourself missing his laughter because at least that was something.
“Aaaaand I said too much. Sorry, it’s just something that’s frustrated me for years and… yeah,” you decide it’s better to end the conversation than wait on a reply that won’t come.
“You didn’t say too much,” he finally speaks up, and the weight on your chest begins to dissipate. “Was lettin’ you get it all out,” he explains. He holds his chin between his thumb and index finger, grazing his jaw lightly and tilting his head as he thinks over your confession. You find yourself subconsciously holding your breath as you prepare for the worst possible response he could give you.
“Said you didn’t know where to start, right? Why don’t we start with something small, hmm? How about that beer?” Frank nods his head once in the direction of the abandoned bottle he had grabbed for you. You eye it hesitantly and think over the worst that could happen. Coming up with virtually nothing, you nod back to him, deciding it would be one small victory to deal with today.
As you wrap your fingers around the bottle, you raise your hand and turn to Frank. He mimics you, lifting his own in the air before clearing his throat.
“To…” he trails off, trying to come up with something as a cheer. His eyes drift off to somewhere else in the room, his lips parted as his eyebrows pull together. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his very serious thinking face. Not wanting him to hurt himself from racking his brain much longer, you speak up.
“To trying new things,” you say confidently, and the second the words leave your mouth you’re already regretting them. You physically wince at your word choice and now it’s Frank’s turn to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty lame,” you admit to him. “Sounded better in my head.”
“Think it sounded perfect,” he replies before tilting his bottle towards you. You follow his lead as he brings the drink to his lips and you don’t think twice before tilting your own head back. The second the flavor hits your tongue you can feel your face scrunching up involuntarily. You bring the bottle away immediately and your lips purse at the taste in your mouth. Frank’s laughter rumbles out deep from his chest and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows it down with no reaction.
“Attagirl, one thing down. That wasn't too hard now was it?” he speaks once he’s brought the glass bottle away from his mouth. Thankfully, the nasty beer is enough to distract you from reacting to his praise.
“You didn’t tell me it tasted like piss!” you exclaim, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand.
“This is actually one of the good ones,” you watch as he takes another swig. “But you’re right, it’s not all that great,” he admits before licking his lips and looking at you.
Any residual awkwardness you felt only moments before has all but vanished and you feel comfort just being here with him. You smile softly to yourself as you brush your thumb along the curved glass of the neck of the bottle.
“Thank you for this,” you speak up, “it feels nice to get something crossed off the list.”
“Any time, kid,” his voice is raspy and you try to dissuade your stomach from doing flips at his tone.
The smile on your face grows wider in the silence, feeling a small amount of pride bubbling in your chest knowing that you tried something new. It doesn’t seem like such a big feat once you’ve climbed over the hill, but there’s always been that fear that keeps you paralyzed and unable to even attempt to move forward. You truly meant your words, you’re thankful that he gave you that little push.
“Y’know, I could help… with the list, I mean.” You’re almost certain you’ve never felt your heart beat quite this hard before. Frank waits until your eyes have locked with his before he speaks slowly, carefully chooses his words as he continues. “O-Only if you want, obviously. Just… said you wish you knew how to do it the first time, right? So it wouldn’t be such a big deal?” You hesitantly nod, still not wanting to assume what he’s proposing until he explicitly says it.
“Yeah, so I figured we could have you practice? Make sure you know what you’re doing before you get out there,” he ends his sentence with a shrug, as if it’s the most nonchalant offer.
“What?” you desperately try to ignore the way your words shake slightly. “Like you’d teach me?” You can’t even help the incredulous tone your words are soaked in. You can hardly even fathom the idea of Frank Castle being the one to show you the ropes, much less actually acting those things out with him.
“Yeah? If that’s alright?” He smiles gently and you feel your body beginning to relax some. “Just… I saw how much it meant to you and I wanna help,” he explains further, and you swear you’ve never seen sincerity like the way it’s shining in his warm, brown eyes.
You swallow thickly as you think over his proposition. It feels like this is some sort of dream; you’re waiting for your alarm to ring out as your vision slowly fades, waking up in your bedroom alone. But no amount of pinching your skin will rip you from this moment. It feels too good to be true, but it’s happening regardless. He’s waiting on an answer and it’s honestly the best offer you could think of being handed to you on a silver platter.
“And hey, you absolutely don’t have to say—”
“Yes,” you finally decide. You can’t even believe you said it.
“You sure?” he asks again, his eyes flickering between your own. You think it’s sweet how he tries to make sure you’re certain of your decision. You smile widely as you nod at him, the butterflies returning to your stomach once again.
“Also, we don’t, like, have to have sex… just so you know. I know that’s a lot, but I can help with the stuff leading up to it?” You grin and nod again and Frank laughs lightly at your response. “Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable with it.”
“I am! I’m just excited, sorry,” you fidget with the hem of your shirt in an attempt to channel all the newfound energy elsewhere. Frank’s chuckle grows louder and you wonder if you imagined the soft “cute” that was muttered under his breath.
“So…” he speaks up and you turn to face him completely. “How would you feel about crossin’ something else off the list?” You nod immediately as all the nervousness from before switches to excitement while it courses through you.
“Okay…” he laughs softly at your quick reaction. “Let’s see,” he pauses for a moment as he thinks before his eyes light up with an idea. “You ever been kissed?” You feel the familiar shyness creeping up again, but you choose to push it back down. Instead, you just softly shake your head and watch as he nods in understanding.
“You want to try it?” he asks, his lips curling into a smirk. You hum an agreement and watch as he moves a bit closer to you on the couch. Once again you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this to be some sort of joke. But Frank only waits for you to take the initiative to close the space between the two of you.
Now that you’re facing each other on the couch, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you wait for him to make the first move. He smiles reassuringly before raising his hand and cradling the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your cheek as his long fingers curl around the back, holding you gently in place.
“You sure you want this?” he confirms. Again, you nod eagerly.
“I gotta hear you say it, sweetheart. That’s my rule,” he explains.
“Oh…” you whisper as you glance between his eyes and his lips, “yes.” You feel your heart swelling at the fact that he wants to make sure you truly want what he’s offering. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, muttering one last, “Okay,” before leaning forward.
The second his lips touch yours, you’re surprised at how soft they are. He’s gentle with his movements and softly sucks your lower lip between his own. It only takes a moment for you to kiss him back, careful to only mimic his actions and still let him lead. The kiss is warm and sweet and you feel the blood rushing through your cheeks and tingling down your neck. His thumb catches your bottom lip and pulls it down slowly, breaking the kiss. Frank breathes gently as he licks his lips, his eyes flickering between yours.
“How was that?” he asks, his breath fanning over your mouth as he speaks.
“It was good. I-I liked it,” you smile sheepishly, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to savor the feeling.
“Yeah?” he tilts his head as the question leaves his mouth, his eyes squinting as he glances from your eyes to your mouth. You once again nod before you even think to do it.
“Alright, now I wanna give you a real one.”
“A real one?” you pout and stare at him confusedly.
He only smirks before leaning forward again, pressing his lips to yours harder. This time, his palm guides your jaw to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss. The stubble lining his jaw scratches at your cheeks, and the prickling has you melting under his touch. You try your best to keep up, but his scent feels like it’s truly suffocating you now; you can hardly kiss him back with how overwhelmed you are. The next thing you register is the wet heat of his tongue brushing along your bottom lip, slowly tracing the shape before he pushes it inside your mouth. His tongue glides against your own and there's a small moan that escapes from your throat.
All too soon his lips leave yours and you open your eyes at the loss of contact. Frank’s own eyes are still shut and you watch as he clenches his jaw, almost as if he’s holding himself back from something.
“Are you okay?” you ask gently, worried you messed up somehow.
“Yeah… just, that was the sweetest god damn thing I’ve heard.” His voice is so deep it sends a shiver down your spine. Out of all the times you’ve dreamt of having your first kiss, you never thought it would’ve been that good. And to think, an impulse decision to watch a movie with him led you to this plan to gain experience. You find yourself already missing the feeling of his tongue, of the scratch that his stubble gave when he deepened the kiss.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he knocks your knee softly with his own, attempting to grab your attention. “You’re being too quiet.”
“I just, well, I wanna do it again,” you admit, looking away nervously. In one sudden motion Frank tugs you into his lap and you yelp as you wrap your arms around his neck. He laughs softly as he stares up at you but doesn’t waste a second before kissing you even quicker than before. There’s only a few chances you can take to catch your breath because he hardly breaks the kiss. You never thought someone as attractive as him would want to kiss you this much, but confidence rushes through your body as his affection continues.
Frank’s mouth begins to wander, his lips finding new space that had otherwise been untouched. The corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw—he never stops kissing you until he gets to your throat. From there, his lips part and he begins sucking on your neck. A shaky gasp leaves you as his teeth make purchase on your skin, softly biting before brushing his tongue over the mark.
“Done two new things,” he mutters, his lips moving around the words but never leaving your body. “How’s it feel?”
“I really like this,” you say breathlessly as you feel his teeth gently graze the sensitive skin of your neck. He hums into your throat, the vibration setting your skin alight before you finish your thought, “You can keep the beer though.”
Frank’s chuckle gets caught in his throat, resulting in the cutest snort you’ve ever heard. He presses soft kisses along your collarbone and looks up at you with sweet, brown eyes.
“Sure, kid, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle fic#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal fic#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher fic#chelsea writes#I'M SO EXCITED GAH!
946 notes
·
View notes
Text
Invisible String.
pairing: older brother's best friend!frank castle x reader
summary: all along there was some invisible string tying you to frank castle.
warnings: none, just lots of sweetness!!!
word count: 1267 words
author’s note: this version of frank is so ken from barbie where it's like "ken's day was good as long as barbie looked at him" and i love it, listen to invisible string by taylor swift to get the full experience.
Were there clues I didn’t see?
Frank’s eyes scanned your face, watching the way your nose scrunched when you laughed so hard it was silent and water was streaming down your face and the campfire in front of you warmed your face. He’d spent every single day since the two of you had met admiring you, watching your heart get broken from every guy you brought home, being the shoulder you could count on when all of your friends inevitability flaked out. He could count all the times he tried to express his feelings on one hand, backing out at the last moment each and every time.
“What are you staring at? Weirdo.” You teased, scrunching your nose in the very way he found irresistible, making a face at him and turning back to the rest of your friend group.
You loved Frank, more than any friend should love their best friend. You’d lost count of how many nights you’d spent crying to your mom over the phone, wondering why he just didn’t like you back and asking what you did to deserve this torture from the universe.
“Nothing.” He smiled back, catching the eye of your friend across the fire, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. He never tried to hide his affection for you, never tried to make it a secret to anyone but you, he was fully aware that everyone around the two of you was most likely aware of the crush he had on you.
Were there clues I didn’t see?
Frank was your, slightly, older brother’s best friend. He’d been around for as long as you could remember, in almost every photograph there was of you or your brother since your mom started printing photos out. But he never had that older brother feel that a lot of your brother’s friends had, it wasn’t that he was unreliable or careless. He was the opposite. He cared more than any of your brother’s friends normally did. Sure, they’d come to your rescue if a boy hurt you or if you needed a ride somewhere or if you just needed a pick me up.
Frank was different. He cared. If the boys were going out to dinner he almost always picked up something for you on the way back, the only times he didn’t was in respect for the girl he was seeing at the time. He’d slip a twenty in the pocket of the jacket you always wore if he knew you needed some extra money, or if he knew you needed cheering up. Even if he didn’t have a job he always did it, and he never regretted it. To him, what he thought was, unrequited love wasn’t an issue. He’d cross every ocean and move every mountain and act like it was the easiest thing to do, all just to get a hint of a smile aimed towards him.
Frank was only two years older than you, well technically two years and one day, and he’d never let you forget it. He’d tell you to respect your elders and you’d shoot back that he was definitely an elder and that you could see the gray hairs coming in. The day you were born your mom told his that you two were destined for each other, she swore she could tell just by the way the two year old held your fraile, hours old body. His mom would tell you on every birthday you were just one more year closer to becoming a Castle girl, telling you how you’d make the prettiest one too. You always rolled your eyes and thanked her for whatever she had gotten you that year.
Were there clues I didn’t see?
“Your mom keeps lecturing me on how to treat women, she acts like I’m whoring myself out like your brother is.” He rolled his eyes, washing the dishes in the sink. None of which were his, considering he was in your house at midnight doing the chores you’d been putting off for awhile.
“She just cares, Frankie.” You mumbled back, legs swinging as they hung off the counter next to the sink, watching him scrub at the residue left on a pan you should’ve definitely cleaned the same day you used it.
You’d graduated college a few months ago, gotten the job of your dreams and yet felt so unfulfilled. You knew why. He was standing in your kitchen complaining about your mom, dish towel swung over his shoulder and shaggy hair pulled back by a headband you demanded he put on before he got stuff in his hair. Ever since you’d moved to this apartment he’d been over pretty much everyday, it felt odd without his presence in the house, it felt lonely without him.
“I tell her every time, I only want one woman.” He responded, catching your eye as he took the towel off his shoulder to dry the dish he just washed.
“So tell the girl, there’s no use telling me about it if you haven’t told her.” Your heart felt heavy, no matter how many times he’d tried to hint at you that he was in love with you it just never clicked, it might as well had come out of your ass and slid across the floor with a giant sign proclaiming your love for him.
“It’s you.”
Isn’t it just so pretty to think…
“Mom it’s just an anniversary, there really isn’t a need to bring the whole family here. It’s just dinner.” You explained, not knowing she knew more than you.
The ring was in his pocket, lighting it on fire, burning a hole right through the fabric. Frank’s mind couldn’t comprehend that this was happening, it was really happening, after years of pining after you he was going to propose.
All along there was some…
The day had finally come, you’d worked your ass off to get everything perfect and exactly the way you wanted it to be. Teenage you couldn’t believe you were standing here, actually about to become a Castle girl. You weren’t sure how both moms knew it was destined to be but you were glad they did, there wasn’t anyone else in the entire world you’d rather be doing this with.
“I can still remember the first time your mom told me I was destined to be a Castle girl, I had rolled my eyes and scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Why on earth would I want to marry my brother’s best friend? That seemed like torture. As the years went by it became something I couldn’t help but dream about, wondering how our relationship would come to be and if you had the intricate proposal I wanted down to the finest details. Every time you brought a girlfriend around, I hated you. Not really, but as much as a teenager full of angst and the world's largest crush on her brother’s best friend could muster. Then you matured, stopped bringing girls around and paid more attention to me. But you never made a move, I thought I was destined to be the little sister forever. But then, that one night in my kitchen you were complaining about how my mom kept lecturing you about how to treat women and you confessed your feelings. Stopped washing my dishes and gave me a kiss, it was surreal. Comparable to the ending of a coming-of-age movie. You’ve been around my whole life, Frankie, and all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.”
#maddies fics#frank castle#jon bernthal#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#the punisher#frank castle imagine#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle headcanons#frank castle x female reader#taylor swift#jon bernthal x you#jon bernthal fluff#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal imagine#jon bernthal fanfiction#the punisher fic#the punisher fanfiction
534 notes
·
View notes
Text
Harder
Frank Castle x implied F!Reader (no body parts are mentioned)
Summary: Frank opens the door to find you unusually quiet and needy.
WC: 2,1k // Explicit 🔞
Warning/Tags: pretty much PWP - sex as stress relief
Read on AO3
Gif from my lovely @darlingshane 🧡
Frank was sitting at the small coffee table in the living room area of his tiny apartment and cleaning the neatly aligned row of handguns lying on it, when there was a soft knock on the door. His hands stopped assembling the gun he had just finished cleaning, while his head turned towards the sound with a frown. Scarcely any people knew where he lived, meaning that anyone calling on him, especially that late in the day, was making all his senses go into high alert. Finishing assembling the gun within the next two seconds, Frank slid a magazine into it with an audible click. Not caring that he was only wearing a pair of jeans, he stood and slowly made his way to the door. He pointed the gun at it, while reaching for the handle with his other hand, letting it hover there as he looked through the peephole. As soon as he recognized you, Frank let out a long breath as the tension fled his body and lowered the gun to let it dangle at his thigh. The frown returned a second later as he realized that you barely ever came to his place. Usually, it was him who was coming to you and not the other way around. He much preferred it that way, not wanting you to be here if someone decided to hunt him down. Something must be up for you to show up here.
Downcast eyes and a shuttered face met him as he opened the door, although your eyes lifted to him as soon as you’d noticed the door opening.
“Hey,” Frank rasped, his voice rough since he’d barely spoken at all today, spending it trailing some crime lord on his own.
“Hey,” you replied, no real inflection in your tone as you shifted on your feet. Your eyes did, however, take in his half naked body and remained on his chest for a while before you looked into his face again.
Frank leaned against the door-frame with a shoulder as he waited for you to say something. He didn’t bother hiding the gun, since you knew exactly what he did for a living. You didn’t even glance in its direction. Just as he wanted to finally ask if something was wrong, you stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist, sliding your hands up and to his shoulders, the fingers digging into his skin. His free arm automatically wrapped around you as you pressed your forehead to his shoulder with a deep sigh. Frank took several steps backwards to pull you into the apartment and shut the door. Quickly depositing the gun on the small shelf standing next to the entrance, Frank then used the same hand to run the fingers along the back of your neck and into your hair.
“You a’right?” he asked against your temple.
“Needed to see you,” you breathed.
Frank stared ahead of him as he took in your words, completely aware that you didn’t reply to his question and that you used the word needed and not wanted. It was the first time that he saw you behave like that. Your lives were complete opposites, with him working in the shadows while you were dealing with a regular job. Only weird circumstances and a common acquaintance had thrown you together some day. You’d just clicked. Frank had enjoyed your easy-going attitude and acceptance of what he did, and things had turned physical after a while as well. No strings attached. That was why he was so surprised by your behavior. You sometimes ranted or groused about things that annoyed you, but he’d never seen you this… quiet.
Before Frank could try to pry further into the reasons behind your presence, you let go of his torso and sank to your knees in front of him. Your knees had barely made contact with the hard floor that you pressed your face into one side of his V-line before sliding your tongue out to lick a path to his happy trail. As taken aback as he was by your actions, Frank’s body instantly reacted to your touch, meaning that he was already half hard by the time your fingers went to the fastenings of his jeans. It had been weeks since you’d been together as he’d been out of town, and your schedules just didn’t align. You didn’t exactly stay in contact. Not really. You sometimes texted or Frank showed up at your place and things would go from there. In any case, he didn’t stop you from tugging down his jeans and revealing his cock instantly since he’d forgone putting any underwear on, like he’d done with the shirt. If you needed him like this, he was happy to oblige you.
Not wasting any time, you curled your fingers around the shaft and pumped it a few times before taking the tip into your mouth. That definitely did the trick, and Frank was fully hard after a couple of passes of your tongue over the sensitive head. Through hooded eyes, Frank watched as you popped off his length to quickly remove the few items of clothing you had on, before sucking him back into your mouth as soon as you were fully naked. His nostrils flared as he held himself up with a hand on the door, only to groan when you reached for his other hand to place it at the back of your head. You gasped as his fingers combed through your hair, only to fist it a moment later. Something was definitely up with you because you usually enjoyed keeping eye contact while you went down on Frank, but you didn’t even glance up at him once while you bobbed your head back and forth. As much as Frank would have liked to tilt your head up for exactly that, he chose to respect your wish. He started thrusting into your mouth as well, since that was also clearly what you wanted, from how you put your hand over the one on your head again and squeezed it meaningfully. Despite you not wanting to look at him, Frank surely had no issues with taking each of your movements in, or letting his eyes travel over your naked form.
“Lookin’ so fuckin’ pretty like that, Sweetheart,” he growled, as he pumped his hips at a quicker pace for a few thrusts.
He grunted as you moaned around him.
You let go of him, panting as you regained your breath, and stood. Your hand went to his nape to pull his mouth to yours, your tongue licking into his mouth with intent. Frank had barely the time to put his hands on your hips before you moved away from him again after breathing, “Fuck me, Frank.” against his lips.
He turned with you as you sidestepped him to head to the couch and lean over the armrest. You held yourself up with your elbows and waited for him. Frank didn’t move for a moment, his brow creasing again at your unusual actions. There wasn’t the usual seduction in your moves, no glance back at him with a flirty wink or teasing grin. You kept your face down, only your ass facing him. Slowly, Frank took the few steps that closed the distance between you and lifted a hand to trail his fingers from your ass and up to your nape. He saw as well as felt the shudder that ran through you at his touch, the reaction satisfying him. No matter what was currently going through your head, you’d sought him out. Needed his touch. He could do this for you. Like everything you might ever ask of him.
As he put the crown against your entrance, he found you more than ready for him, proof that you truly wanted this. He watched himself sink inside you slowly, relishing in the tight heat of your body and the way your breath rushed out of you the deeper he went. You hung your head as he finally bottomed out, and groaned while pushing back against his pelvis, visibly wanting to make sure that he was all the way inside you. Drawing out again, Frank gave you a few shorter thrusts before filling you all the way once more. He started with a lazy rhythm, only making sure to slide inside fully with every pass.
“Harder,” you ground out, pushing your hips back in counterpoint with his.
Frank obeyed and began upping the pace as his hips gently slapped against your ass. You moaned, but he saw you shaking your head after a minute.
“Harder,” you repeated, voice louder as you moved against him, intending to show him what you wanted.
Taking hold of your hips with both of his hands, Frank grunted as snapped his own forward into you sharply. You cried out, your moans growing louder with his thrust, your body going with the motion of Frank’s movements. Frank knew that you weren’t done the second he saw your fist clench on the side of the pillow.
“Harder, Frank. Fuck me harder!” you shouted, your voice high with some kind of anger that had Frank’s own temper rising.
Leaning his large body over yours, Frank grabbed you by the nape and forced your upper body down until you had your cheek resting against the couch pillow, a whimper of need escaping you at the action.
“Like this?” he almost snarled against your ear as he pulled all the way out and slammed into you with a force that had the whole couch skidding a few inches forward.
Frank didn’t give you the opportunity to reply with actual words, since he reared back to grab one side of your hips again while keeping his other hand on your neck and fuck into you with brutal force. The only sounds coming from you were blissed out noises as Frank finally gave you what you so desperately craved from him. If being manhandled was what you needed, Frank was happy to deliver. He watched you avidly as pleasure filled sounds kept leaving your panting mouth, your expression of utter ecstasy having him give you everything he had to satisfy you completely. Not like he minded, since seeing you like this, needing to relinquish all control to him, only made his own pleasure sharper.
“That what you wanted from me, baby? Fuck you so good ‘n hard until you forget everythin’?” Frank asked as he lowered himself over you again, the hand on your nape sliding to the front until his fingers were wrapped around your throat.
Like before, you didn’t reply verbally as only mewls of pleasure greeted his ears, but Frank didn’t need an answer. He knew he was right. Knew the feeling all too well himself. The absolute trust you put in him was humbling and turning him on at the same time.
As Frank kept pounding away inside you, it was your quivering legs and fluttering walls around his cock that announced your climax to him. It was only confirmed by your cry of utter bliss and the repetition of Frank’s name a moment later. Frank stayed in the same position over you, except that he had his forehead against the back of your head as he let your orgasm slam through you. His thrusts never faltered, despite how tightly you were squeezing around him, until he finally shoved into you one last time, his hips pressing against your ass, as he came inside you with a sharp expletive.
Frank panted against your head for several seconds before he straightened again after pressing a light kiss into your nape. He carefully pulled out and put his half hard dick back into his jeans. Observing you carefully for a while as you kept breathing quickly and didn’t move, Frank finally stroked a hand over your back. You did react to his touch, and slowly lifted off the couch with trembling arms. Frank sat on the couch and watched you plop down next to him. With an exhausted sigh, you heavily leaned against him and closed your eyes. Frank extended his arm along the couch to wrap it around your shoulders and pull you closer still. He felt you smile against his chest, which made one appear on his face as well, as you finally seemed to return to your usual self. His eyes automatically went to yours as he noticed you lifting your head to seek his gaze. The eye contact had him smiling softly and raking his fingers through your hair. He chuckled as you closed your eyes with a content expression. You returned his smile after opening your eyes again, but didn’t speak as you leaned back against him. You didn’t need to. He might not know what triggered tonight’s events, but he was happy to be there whenever you needed him to get you out of your own head.
#frank castle x reader#reader insert#Frank Castle fanfiction#the punisher#jon bernthal#the punisher fanfiction#frank castle smut#PWP
922 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
transparentdreamgiver
Fandom Of Everything
kera-ma-go
Untitled
max34q
Geiler Lustsklave
yingatlas
Ying / Atlas 🦋🐰🌶️
emmaklee
kakinoki