#ch: frank castle 💌

[dollfacefantasy]

READ MY MIND ♡

pairing: frank castle x bratty!fem!reader

summary: frank and jealousy don't mix well together... you find that out the hard way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, daddy kink, jealousy, drinking, meanie frank, brat taming, age gap (20s/40s, you know the drill)

a/n: ahh finally some more frank. reader is actually highkey dumb in this but that's ok. all my creations have a place in my heart 🫶 reblogs + comments are always appreciated <3

Frank had pissed you off a couple days ago. That was how this whole thing started.

Looking back now, you could admit it all was petty. He probably didn't deserve it, and you probably could have handled yourself better. But things like these built up. You could only nod your head and smile sweetly so many times before your well of grace ran dry.

You'd been getting ready for the day, coating your lashes in some mascara after shimmying on a black skirt. Frank lounged in your bed, one muscular arm behind his head as he attempted to rest away a rough night.

Through the mirror's reflection, you'd asked him what you thought to be a simple question. "Are you gonna be here on Friday night?"

But he answered with "Dunno. Gonna try to be."

Your glossy lips pursed together as irritation flared up inside. "Well... if you had to bet. Would you say you'll be here? Or not?" you tried again.

But still. "I don't know." This time he sounded a little annoyed himself. "Why? You got something planned?" he asked.

His tone only irked you more. Sure, maybe some would say you were overreacting, getting too upset over a tiny inconvenience, but you believed in your reasons. He'd been doing this more and more lately, and it was piling up. It wasn't so much his actual absence that bugged you — you knew he had his reasons. It was the dodged answers. Physical distance you could stomach. Emotional however? Not so much.

"No. I just like knowing where you are and what I'm gonna be doing," you said, words becoming clipped.

"You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?" he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

That earned him a harsh glare from you.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not trying to piss you off, baby, but I don't know. That's just the way it is."

Gritting your teeth, you looked yourself over one more time in the mirror before mumbling "fine."

Without further argument, you went for your bag hanging off the back of the desk chair. You slid it over your shoulder and scanned briefly to make sure you had everything you needed. After that, you planned on just walking out, maybe huffing a goodbye if he was lucky. But before you could go, he spoke again.

Objectively, he'd said: "Little cold out to wear that skirt, ain't it?"

But your disgruntled ears interpreted that as: "That skirt's a little too short to wear, ain't it?"

"I have tights on," you said and shot him another glare.

He blinked at the sharp response. His confused face worked you up further, and you were more than ready to go at that point. Though as you turned to depart, he called to you.

"You forgettin' something?"

A rigid wave of frustration flowed through you, but you still turned around. You knew what he was referring to, of course. All but petulantly stomping back to the edge of the mattress, you made your way to him and then leaned down to press a sticky kiss to his cheek.

"Bye," you said with a faint, involuntary pout.

He reached up, cupping your jaw and squishing your cheeks like he did every time he watched you leave.

"Be safe," he said. His version of I love you.

You nodded like you always did, giving him one more peck before pulling back and actually heading out the door. While the kiss may have given the impression that your attitude had been handled, one thought echoed through your mind as you walked down your complex's stairwell.

If he thinks this is short, I'll show him short.

Over the course of the next few days, Frank never gave you any word on whether or not he'd be at the apartment on Friday night. The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?

You clenched your jaw every time that replayed through your mind.

He had some nerve. You basically lived at his beck and call. All your time together was based around his schedule. How you acted around him depended on his mood. Everything was him him him.

So tonight was gonna be about you. Well... also him. But he wouldn't come till later.

As the sun began to set outside, you proceeded with your plan. You shedded the old t-shirt and sweats you had on, fetching something more eye-catching from your closet. A skimpy little black dress. Your hands ran over the material and smoothed it out over your curves. Some shiny heels came next and then a fresh application of darker makeup. You made sure your hair was just how he liked it too.

It was in the middle of adding the final touches to your look that you heard the front door open and then close. Your heart skipped a beat. So he had ended up coming home... you hadn't planned on seeing him till you came back tonight.

A few seconds later he walked into the bedroom. He looked tired like he did a lot of the time. For a split second, you almost felt guilty about the petty show you were putting on. It crossed your mind that you could wipe the makeup off and swap your dress out for some pjs. You could get what you actually wanted all along and spend the night by his side.

But that would require a degree of humility you didn’t possess today. You’d committed to this idea, and now you were gonna stick with it.

He registered what you had on as soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He went to take his boots off, but his muscles stopped all movements when he looked at you.

You could practically feel his pupils raking over your body. The warm simmer that came with his attention tingled across every inch of your skin. You played it cool though, acted natural as you grabbed your coat and shrugged it on.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked.

“Out,” you replied, picking up the nice bag you reserved for actual plans rather than errands or routines.

“Mind telling me where ‘out’ is?” he said.

“I don’t know. Just a couple different bars with my friends.”

He raised his brows. “You are going out to some bars?” he asked.

You scoffed and folded your arms across your chest. His face appeared neutral, but you were an expert in Frank-isms by now. You knew he was mocking you. It was rare for you to go out purely for socialization. He’d tease you about that regularly, saying you acted older than him by staying in all the time and going to bed early.

While normally you'd get all cute about his teasing, it frustrated you right now. You didn't want him finding humor in this when you were trying to teach a lesson.

“Yes,” you huffed. “I didn’t think you’d care since you didn’t even know if you were gonna be here tonight.”

And now his expression shifted to one of irritation as well. The passive aggressive reminder clued him into the fact that this wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t you trying something new for the hell of it or to get out of your comfort zone. No. You were mad at him, and instead of talking that through, you were gonna pitch a fit about it.

“I always care about where you’re going. But I don’t got a problem with it,” he said.

“Good,” you shrugged.

He sighed, his gaze lingering on your face. “Do you have a problem? Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly trying to give you the chance to end this whole thing right here.

But you didn’t take it. Instead you shook your head. “No. Why?”

“Cause you got an attitude. That’s why,” he said back.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you defended.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you said. You knew you were walking a thin line. Frank was not a fan of bratty behavior to put it lightly.

He gave you another once over but ultimately decided to let it slide. "If you say so."

For once, you chose to quit while ahead and not say anything. You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before turning to him.

"I'll see you when I get home," you said.

He nodded. And even though he wasn't pleased with your little act, he didn't want you leaving on a bad note. He forced down the irritation and pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"You call me if you need anything, yeah?" he said.

You nodded. "Yeah," you said quietly.

Regret was seeping in a little more. You'd have to get out of here quick, or you'd be kicking off your heels and hopping back into bed in no time.

You turned for the door, waving bye briefly before hightailing it out the main entry way and into the hall.

It was almost two a.m. the next time you heard Frank's voice.

You tapped his contact with a shaky thumb as you staggered your way to the exit of the club. Even pressed to your ear, you could barely hear the ringing over the music blaring all around. You pushed past people with your free arm and squeezed through the gaps between groups of guys with bad haircuts.

Once you made it outside, you took a deep breath. Finally, fresh air that didn't smell like cheap body spray or sweat. Out here, you could actually hear clearly when the phone stopped ringing.

"Hello?" his voice crackled from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Frankie," you said back, maybe a little too happily. You weren't drunk, but you weren't exactly sober either. "Could you maybe come pick me up if you're not doing anything? I was supposed to go home with my friend, but she doesn't wanna leave, and I could uber but-"

"I'll come get you," he cut off your tangent. You heard some shuffling in the background as he presumably got up. "Where are you?"

You paused, peering over your shoulder to the neon sign on the front of the nightclub. "Blackout."

Then there was a pause from him. "I thought you were just going to a few bars," he said.

"It wasn't my idea," you defended. "We were supposed to go to a couple bars, but you know how she is, I told you she never-"

"Alright, don't worry about it," he grumbled. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"Mkay, I'll be out front," you said. "Byeee."

You clicked the red circle on your phone's screen before he could say anything else.

For a moment, you pondered whether you should wait out here or go back inside. This area of town wasn't the best, but the interior of the club didn't feel much better. You sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your phone captured your attention for a few minutes, but when boredom started to set in, you just looked around, observing your company on this strip of sidewalk.

It was then that your eyes landed on a man nearby. He was watching you. That caught your attention.

His hair was dark brown, slicked back. He was around your age and had on an expensive coat with his hands jammed in the pockets. You could feel the weight of his stare shifting up and down your body. And it gave you an idea.

Under normal circumstances and sobriety, you probably would have looked away instantly. Maybe even been a little creeped out. But having gone out tonight with the feeling of neglect as your shadow, you felt a little more interested in the attention.

So you bit your lip and cocked your head, beckoning him over without ever waving your hand.

He played right along with you. Without a word, he slipped away from his group in line and walked over to where you stood.

As he got closer, you could see him with more detail, and he became a person not just a distant figure. Guilt started to well up in you, but you tried drowning it out. You didn't actually want this guy. You just wanted Frank to see him talking to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" he asked.

"Waiting for my ride," you answered, smiling but not too much.

He hummed and nodded. "Leaving already? That's a shame."

"Mhm, I got work in the morning," you lied.

"Oh yeah? Where do you work?"

"I can't tell you that. You're a stranger," you replied with a little added giggle.

He huffed out a laugh. You noticed how his eyes simultaneously trailed along your exposed collarbone.

"Pretty and smart," he teased. "I think I'd be making a huge mistake if I let you go without even asking for your number."

"You didn't even ask for my name yet," you said with a grin.

"Well then, what's your name?" he said, voice lowering slightly.

Before you could get the syllables out, a deep voice answered for you.

"Get in the car."

Your head snapped in the direction of the street to find Frank's car before you and him standing next to the driver's side. You hadn't even noticed him pull up, the sounds of the wheels had melded together with all the others on this street.

The moment you saw his face you regretted this whole idea. Not even just entertaining that guy, but everything, this whole night. If only you could turn back time and just force yourself to tell Frank you were upset.

But you couldn't, so you nervously shuffled towards the passenger door, not even daring to look back at your other suitor.

You got inside and slumped down in your seat. Only seconds later Frank's door slammed shut too. He didn't say a word either, not to you or that other guy.

Your eyes were glued to your thighs as he put the car back in drive and pulled away from the curb. You sat there, body rigid as you waited for him to tear into you. It would be coming any moment now you were sure of it.

But minutes passed. The car made several turns. Lights went from green to red. And not a sound.

He didn't yell, didn't lecture, didn't ask any questions. It was starting to really freak you out inside. Part of you was scared he'd pull up in front of the apartment, dump you out of the car, and then drive out of your life forever.

You dared to look over at him and just saw his eyes straight ahead, his hands clasped tight on the wheel. It was unnerving. Never did you imagine you'd be wishing for Frank to blow up on you, but this silence was unbearable.

Not wanting to start anything while he was driving, you waited till you were down the street from the apartment complex before speaking.

"Frank... I'm really sorry," you said quietly.

He didn't respond, and a long pause stretched from your last word to the moment he put his car in park. The engine went quiet as the lights on the dash faded away. Golden hues from the street lamps outside were the only thing illuminating the two of you.

"Are you now?" he said, and you could tell he was still pissed.

"I really am. I swear, I wasn't with that guy at the club or anything like that. He just came up to me while I was waiting for you, and I didn't wanna blow him off just in case and-"

"You weren't looking too eager to blow him off when I pulled up," he cut you off.

The car stayed silent because you didn't have a response for that. You bit your lip, giving the best set of puppy eyes you could manage. It was all for nothing though because he still wouldn't look at you. This was what you wanted wasn't it? Him jealous? So why did it feel so bad?

It was only after this period of quiet that he turned to look at you. His eyes were dark and stormy. You nearly cowered from a brief glimpse alone.

"Did you think you were being cute tonight?" he asked. "Getting all dressed up, being snippy with me, trying to make me jealous."

"I wasn't-"

"Did you think I'd find that cute?" he said, tone hard as ever.

You bowed your head instead of persisting with denial.

"No..."

"Good 'cause you should know better. I don't have time for shit like that. You wanna play games, you go find yourself a little boy who's willing to put up with 'em."

You just nodded, not having the courage to even verbally respond. It didn't matter to him though. He kept going regardless.

"I'm not gonna tell you this again. Don't think you can pull shit like that with me. I got better things to do, and I'm not gonna spend my time worrying about if you're out letting some other man put his hands on you."

Again, you nodded. The heat of humiliation crept up your neck and into your cheeks.

"When you're with me, you're with me. Got it?"

"Got it," you repeated, so quiet it was barely audible. Your eyes had started to sting a little bit, but you swallowed hard to keep your emotions down.

He went quiet again, and the tension nearly killed you. You weren't sure if he was gonna send you up to the apartment all alone or go with you just to lay in bed without speaking. But luckily, he did neither of those things. Instead he patted his thigh a couple times and looked over at you.

"Come here," he said, his voice low but no longer tense.

Your head popped up a little. "What?" you asked, making sure you heard right.

"Come here," he said again, this time with more command.

You didn't need to be told a third time.

He reached down between his legs to slide the seat back slightly while you climbed over the center console. One of your legs awkwardly swung over his thighs, and the other knocked into the seatbelt receptacle. You still made it work though.

His right hand came to cup your jaw, to force you to make eye contact. With a closer look, he saw your watery eyes.

"Don't give me that. You got yourself into this," he said.

Before you could blink again, he brought you in closer and put a rough kiss on your pout. Your palms landed on his chest. The strong beat of his heart pounded against one.

Soon, his grip fell from your jaw down to your waist. His fingers dug into each of your hips as he tugged your lower body flush against his abdomen.

You gasped at the sudden drag of your center on his lap. Frustration rolled off of him with every movement. His hands found the hem of your sleek little black dress and hiked it up over your hips.

The quick exposure startled you. Pulling back a little, you looked around outside to see if anyone was nearby to see through the windows. His truck wasn't tinted, and even under the cover of night, any wandering eyes would have no trouble seeing what the two of you were up to.

"What're you looking for, baby? Thought you wanted other people to see you in your pretty little outfit," he said as he guided you close again.

His lips latched onto your neck, drawing another gasp from you. Your sensitive skin fell victim to his teeth. He nipped at you before gliding his tongue over the area. You recognized it as an attempt to leave a mark. That sent a little thrill for you. He could act like a hardass all he wanted, but he still got jealous like anyone else.

"I'm just making sure no one's watching..." you said.

“Why? You feelin’ shy now?” he teased.

You just shook your head. Your hands rubbed up and down his biceps onto his shoulders and then up to his neck.

“Just don’t wanna get in trouble,” you said as you nuzzled him.

“The only one you gotta worry about getting in trouble with is me,” he said with a light smack on your ass.

You whined, but the words were enough to clear the possibility of getting a ticket or worse from your mind.

His hand mimicked your own. It slid to the back of your neck. Only he grabbed the skin tight, gave you a little tug to make you look in his eyes.

You let out a soft whimper. His stare was so intense, it was almost enough to bring those tears from your eyes once and for all. You squirmed on his lap without even thinking about it. In bed, there was so much space for evasion. You could roll over, hide your face in the pillows or blankets, even just look at the ceiling or the wall. But in the car, like this, there was just Frank.

His thumb swept back and forth on your chin before he relented and connected his mouth with yours once again.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Even when you’ve been a pain in my ass, I let you get away with it.”

“Cause you know I didn’t mean it, daddy,” you whispered.

That brought a groan out from somewhere deep in his chest.

He tilted his head back against the seat. “Don’t give me that.”

Your hands rubbed up and down his chest. You rocked your hips on him too to go with them. As he gave you more lenience, you felt more comfortable fighting back a little. It was more fun to play along when you knew you weren’t on the verge of a breakup.

“I never wanted you to be mad at me. Just wanted your attention.”

You rolled your hips harder in a wider circle. Between your thighs, you could feel the start of his bulge. It was only half-hard right now, but with a little time, you knew you’d have him ready to go.

“You saying I don’t give you enough attention? That why you act up?” he said. His hands returned to your waist, gripping and massaging the skin of your torso.

“It’s never enough for me cause I want all your attention, all the time. Every single second. Just wanna be with you.”

"I swear you're gonna send me to an early grave,” he said.

You smiled a little, and your hands fell between your two bodies. They went for his fly, but he grabbed one of your wrists and kept you from getting to it.

Immediately, you looked to him with a fresh pout. But he just clicked his tongue at you.

“You think you deserve my dick after tonight?” he asked.

You huffed. “It’s not gonna feel as good for you if you don’t lemme take it out.”

That put a bit of a smile on his face too. “Oh, it’s all for me? Who knew my girl was so selfless?” he mocked.

You nodded proudly, now able to slip free of his grasp and flick open his button. From there, you yanked the zipper down and shimmied around the layers of fabric to get at what you really wanted.

His cock stuck out for you, nearly fully hard by now. With a couple more tugs of your hand, it filled out the rest of the way. You watched it, almost mesmerized. It was warm and flushed, oozing precum for you.

“If you took me inside first, I coulda sucked it for you,” you pouted, looking between him and his cock.

“We’re not gonna be out here all night. I’m sure you’ll still have some making up to do later,” he said simply.

He corralled you against his chest, boosting you enough to pull your panties aside and situate you over his length. This wasn’t gonna be on your terms, you could already tell. He reached down between the two of you, wrapping his thick calloused fingers around himself atop your own hand. With both of you guiding the shaft, you angled it at your entrance and then slid down on it.

“Fuck,” you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He hummed, an agreement of sorts. His hand rubbed up and down your back before he began rocking his hips up into you.

“If this is what you needed, you should’ve just asked,” he said into your ears. “No reason for you to throw a tantrum. You know I always take care of you.”

The rasp of his voice was enough to make you shudder. You gripped onto him a little tighter and started to aide his thrusts, bouncing up and down with what leverage you had in this position.

“Didn’t wanna ask. Wanted you to do it,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? I’ve spoiled you so much you expect me to read your mind now?”

All you could do was whine at that. You knew what you meant, and it wasn’t so petulant. There was just no other way you could articulate it at present.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your fingers into the muscles there. “Shut up,” you choked out. You threw your head back as you began to bounce faster.

He gave you a harsh smack on the ass, much harder than before. This time it left a lingering sting.

“Watch your attitude. You’re not off the hook yet.”

You just kept riding him. Up and down, up and down. You were sure the car was rocking by now. Creaking and shaking under that dingy streetlamp. That didn’t matter to you. At this point, you didn’t care if someone saw. You wouldn’t care if a crowd stopped to watch. Not when you felt this good. Not when you were so close.

“Daddy, fuck, can I please cum? Pretty please?” you asked.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked for the second time tonight.

His hand slipped down and rubbed at your clit. The rough skin of his fingertips on your little velvet bud got you to squeal. Your hips bucked on instinct, nearly knocking your knee into the door.

“Um… Uh…” you stammered, trying to act hesitant. If you seemed remorseful, he might be more inclined to reward you. That was your thought process anyways.

“Simple question, sweetheart.” His fingers didn’t stop swirling on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah! I do! Cause I’m really really really sorry, and I love you so so so fucking much. And you’re the only one who can make me cum like this. Can’t even think of anyone else when you make me cum,” you said, practically babbling.

Had your head been upright and your vision focused on him, you could have seen the fondness for you in his expression. But your head was still back facing the ceiling, and your eyes were still drooping with ecstasy, so you missed that and just heard him say “alright. I guess you deserve it.”

You let out a moan loud enough to pierce the interior of the car. Your head popped back up now to lay a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered before you felt the first wave of release.

That hot coil of pleasure inside you snapped. You whined and rode your way through it. Nothing could stop you from moving. You kept going and going, quivering thighs and all.

He spilled himself inside you as well somewhere during your high. You felt it vaguely, but the sensation was pretty muted compared to everything else going on.

You finally slowed down and then came to a stop when you were reaching the end of your descent. Once you’d fully come down, you slumped against his chest, your own breaths coming out ragged.

He squeezed you close without a word, planted a quiet kiss on your head.

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

You nuzzled his chest once more, saying sorry without words. It was enough for Frank though.

He slid himself out of you and fixed your clothes. You lazily made sure everything was in place before he popped open the car door and helped you out.

Your legs felt wobbly as they held you up on the asphalt, but you managed to stay upright till he was out too. His hand landed on your ass, giving it a pat. You happily tucked yourself to his side before the both of you began walking towards the apartment building.

[dollfacefantasy]

YESSSSSS WE WONNNN!!!! me when frank castle 😇😇

k02. accidental stim + thigh-riding | just once

frank castle x f!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: hurt/comfort, references to blood/violence, wound-tending, strangers-to-lovers, implied mutual pining, accident stimulation, thigh-riding, oral sex (m rec), reader has hair long enough to tug, swallowing

You know you shouldn’t look for the handsome stranger that shows up, night after night. Should lock your window, forget you saw him. That’s the smart thing to do, after all.

But you think you might like that he needs you. That you can’t stop thinking about him. That you can’t stop wanting more.

It’s interesting how quickly you’ve become used to finding a strange man on your fire escape.

The first time it happened, it had scared you near to death. A dark smudge in the shadows, when you went to close the blinds before bed.

A sharp jab of fear, realizing there was a body propped up against the railing. Phone in hand, fingers hovering on Wade’s contact when you saw the streaks of red against pale skin.

Still not sure how you got him inside. Spent an hour afterwards scrubbing the traces of him from your windowsill. Smeared fingerprints, the scuff of boots against your floor.

Half-conscious. Blood oozing out from a wound at his temple. A clean washcloth from your bathroom pressed to it, as you started to call for help.

The stranger moved then. A broad hand curled around your wrist. Head tipping back, and you could see those brown eyes from beneath the hood.

“No cops.” He croaked, “No hospitals. ‘m fine.”

You had patched him up the best you could. The urge to help outweighing the ringing stranger danger in your head. A little soothed knowing help was next door.

The night spent awake, watching.

He thanked you the next day. Apologized.

It was in the early morning light that you finally got a good look at him, that dark hood pulled back. Handsome face, quiffed hair, pretty lips beneath the curve of his nose.

Broad, when he stands. Slipping back out the way he came. A devil at night, gentleman in the morning - even with his rough edges.

Thought it’d be the last time you saw him.

You were wrong.

That one night turns into another. Something almost like a routine, except for his timing. Twice a week and then nothing for more. Three weekends in a row, and then silence for a month.

On the second night, the stranger tells you his name is Frank.

On another night, some two weeks later, he tells you that your apartment is the only one within two blocks he can reach from the ground. Only stopped because your window was cracked open. Knew you were home.

Could smell the blend of vanilla and sugar from there. Seemed like a safe place to rest, until he could make it back home.

It should deter you.

It doesn’t.

He’s as layered as the clothes he wears. All dark - black field jacket. The splatter of white, some sort of pattern on the shirt beneath another zip-up.

And red.

Always red. Red dripping from his nose. Bruised shadows beneath an eye. Split knuckles, his hand resting against your knee as you yawn - binding them carefully.

Tucked on your couch to sleep a couple hours, gone by the time you’re leaving for work. Midnight breakfasts that always ends in a “thanks, sweetheart” that leaves you pretending that there isn’t a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your chest.

Never tells you what he does. Never lets you in, other than the slip of his last name.

Castle.

It fits him. Something as strong and formidable as he is, with the furrow of his brow. The grit of his jaw, when your needle pierces flesh.

Never complaining. Content to take what you give him. A wary eye when you pick at those layers, a fingernail digging under a chip of paint.

Always seems to be gone longer, after you do.

The last time he was here, you hadn’t seen him for three weeks. Waiting for a tap on the glass that didn’t come.

Only for your window to creak open, barely heard under the rumble of the storm overhead. Some time long after midnight, closer to dawn.

You knew it was him, in your sleepy haze. Knew the sound of his boots as well as your own. The soft rasp of your name, as you propped yourself up.

The worry quickly tempered, when he crouched to your level.

“One hell of a storm,” Frank rasped, “Just need a place to wait it out.”

The relief has sleep pulling you back under. A muttered “no boots in bed”, as you yawn, followed by a “or wet clothes.”

You don’t think you would have said it, if you were awake. It felt like a dream - something made up. Wishing he would come back to you and then he was.

A low huff. Layers peeled off, as the mattress dips.

In the morning, he’s gone.

You’d think it was a dream, if your pillow didn’t smell like him. If the bed wasn’t still warm where he lay - if you could shake the feeling of his breath in your ear, an arm slung around your waist in the night.

It had felt like something had changed.

That was, until now.

Now, your brow furrows. Blood beneath your nails from where you helped ease the vest from his chest.

His hand covering yours, stilling the shake as you gripped the straps. Your little huff of relief when it’s only bruises and scrapes that bloom beneath, instead of the scattering of fired bullets.

Now, they rests on your hips, as you stand between his spread thighs. His chest bare under the warm light of your bathroom - mottled in bruises but it doesn’t take away the breadth of him. The etched muscles that bunch and flex beneath your fingertips.

Something you’re achingly aware of. Something you’re desperately trying not to think of, as you dab antiseptic around the edge of an abrasion.

His eyes are fixed on yours, even as you concentrate.

It’s something you discovered about him quickly. Frank doesn’t shy away from eye contact. Content to keep his on you, even as you work. Skin heating from beneath his watch.

Could just be him. His work is something dangerous, he never needs to tell you for you to know that. And from the splinters you’ve pieced together, you don’t see him as a bad guy. Or at least - he doesn’t see himself that way.

But a part of you wonders if he watches because he wants to. Something greedy. Unblinking - taking you in like you wish he would.

“You’re lucky,” You muse, thumb smoothing over the bandage, “Think this is the least banged up you’ve been.”

“Lucky.” He huffs, “Suppose you could say that.”

The roll of medical tape clatters against the sink, before slipping down into the bowl. His fingers biting into your hips as you lean to grab it, shifting into his space.

“Careful.” It’s a low warning, rumbled out, “Makin’ it real hard to keep my hands to myself, sweetheart.”

Only then do you notice how much you’ve leaned into him. Your thigh pinned firmly against his spread one. A hand on his shoulder for balance, your tits pressed against his bare chest.

You shift back, but it only makes his hands grip harder. His eyes dark, under the glow of the bulb above - making you feel like you took a blow, yourself.

“Don’t have to,” You manage, “Keep them to yourself, I mean.”

There’s a sharp, inhaled breath. His eyes flicking between yours, as a mark deepens between his brows.

“Wouldn’t be right.” It’s gritted out, “This is your home-”

Your heart hammers behind your ribs, as the hand at his shoulder slips to his neck, “I know. I-, I wouldn’t let you in if I didn’t-”

“Trust me?” Frank laughs, the sound hollow, “Sweetheart-”

The word dies on his tongue, with the sudden slam of a door in the hall - ringing out like a gunshot. A loud voice followed by the pounding of footsteps up the stairs, as you are suddenly crushed against Frank’s chest.

His palm slipping over your mouth, as he shoots to his feet. Crowding you against the bathroom door, shushing your muffled yelp.

You can feel every inch of him pressed against you. Breath held as he leans into you, a thigh nudged snugly between yours. Hands flattened against his chest. Unyielding, as you give a little shove.

Something hard curving against your hip. A rough sound in his throat when you squirm against him again - the words trapped behind his hand.

“Fucking stop,” He growls in your ear, “Someone is out there-“

Your shove turns soft. Stroking up his chest until you’re touching at his jaw. Angling his face to meet yours.

His eyes are wild, nearly black. Deadly focused - their sharp edge flicking down to yours. A beat as he considers, when you point to your mouth.

“It’s my neighbor,” You manage with a gasp, when his grip loosens, “He tries to see how fast he can run up every single stair. Drives us all crazy.”

He goes still. Eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out if he believes you.

You know what he thought.

Might now know a lot about him, but you could sense the danger he thought you were in. Instincts kicking in, as he believes whatever horrors he faced out there were brought back here.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, “You’re safe.”

His nostrils flare, jaw gritting. Fingers fisting in the fabric of your sleep shirt, knuckles biting into your hips.

“Distract me.” He husks, voice low.

Your eyes widen, “How?”

There’s a sharp jerk of his head, his own dark eyes still fixed on yours, “Any way you want.”

He’s still as stone as your eyes sweep across his face again. A million thoughts running through your head, as your thumb sweeps across a stubble-lined jaw.

Head tilting, until you can press your lips just above, against the sharp cut of a cheekbone.

You can feel his exhale against you. The tightly-strung muscles easing, even as he tugs you closer. Even as you hear the hitch in his breath, the way his head tips towards yours.

You move slow.

The next brushing his cheek.

Another, to the corner of his lips.

It’s then that he moves. A rough groan in his throat as his hand shifts to your chin. Holding you in place so his mouth can meet yours.

Something chaste, that turns hungry. His hips canting into yours, as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

You let him. Fingers slipping against the short, velvet-shorn hair. Up until there’s something to grip onto, as his hips rocks against yours.

“Fuck.” It’s rumbled against your lips, “Been driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

You moan, as his lips drag to press against your jaw. How his thigh rocks against your core, where you’re still pinned between him and the door.

“Haven’t been doing anything,” You protest, weakly, “Just patching you up.”

There’s the rough huff of a laugh.

“Funny how that works.”

There’s the pounding of your heart, just below his lips. Fingers that trace the waistband of your sleep shorts. Slipping beneath your shirt to grasp at your waist.

Tugging, until you’re rubbing yourself on his thigh. The muscles flexing beneath you as you gasp, nails biting into his bare shoulders.

Trying to avoid the bruises, his skin hot to the touch. Another roll - again and again. A rough grunt each time you press flush, when the imprint of his cock ruts against your hip.

The seam on your shorts catch on your clit. Your breath quickens, as your arousal dampens the thin cloth. A dark patch seeping into the dark denim, but Frank only groans when his eyes flick down to see the gleam.

“Feels good.” You breathe, eyes half-lidded.

His teeth flash white, in the dark room. Pressing harder, until you’re whimpering. Until there’s a building pressure in your belly, toes curling against the worn rug.

“Frank.” It’s a plea, it’s a warning.

“Yeah, beautiful?” His knowing tone, the sweet name sends heat to your cheeks, “You close? Think you can come for me like this?”

You don’t know if you can. All you know is the feeling of his thigh nudging against you, as his boot bounces. The rasp of his stubbled cheek against yours.

“Think you can.” Frank hums, “Think you want me to hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

His name strings out. Fingers teasing, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. A rough moan in your ear when he meets bare, slick skin.

Another pulled when your own hand drifts. A palm cupping him, where his clothed cock ruts into your hip. The heel of your hand nudging with the flex of his thigh.

Again, and again. Sweet nothings slipping from you, a heady mix of his name and “please” and “oh my god-”, as your head tips back.

His mouth against your neck, your chin, your mouth. Your cry cut short as his body presses you flush between him and the door.

Fingers slipping down. Beneath the dampened fabric, circles pressed against your clit. Wanting to do this himself, to give this to you.

The pleasure blooms low in your belly. Liquid heat and the release of what feels like weeks of building pressure coursing through you, as he brings you over the edge.

Your orgasm pulsing low and warm, as your hands find his shoulders. Adding fingerprint bruises to one’s he already carries. Ones he’ll look at fondly, when he’s alone.

Frank’s knee only eases from you, when that tight grip on him finally loosens.

The aftershocks still honey-sweet where they thud in your core. Legs like jelly, as your back slips against the door - as you sink to your knees.

You want all of him.

You’re greedy like that - fingers itching to reach out and take. To beg, but your eyes are drawn the bruises. The shadows under his eyes, you don’t know the last time he slept.

There will be more time, later. If you’re lucky.

“Hey. Hey-” His voice is almost worried, broad hands wrapping around your biceps. The words twisting into a choked sound instead, when your hands trace up his thighs. Over the slick patch, darkening the denim.

Eye-level with his hips. Your gaze meeting his, as you press an open-mouthed kiss against the straining curve.

He groans then. Bare chest heaving, as his hands drop to his belt. No words needed, in sync from the nights already spent together - from patching him up in near-silence.

Thumbs hooking into the waistband of dark boxers, tugging down. Your eyes tracing where the dark trail from his belly thickens, hair coarse at the base of his cock.

“Don’t have to.” It’s half-hearted. A tick to his jaw, when your fingers join his.

Another sharp tug, until his cock is freed. Achingly hard, as it bobs in front of you. A pretty shade of pink that grows darker at the tip. A drop leaking from the slit, the head already glossy from where it smeared against fabric.

God, you need to taste him.

“I know.” You breathe, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grin, “I want to.”

Leaning forward to taste him. A kiss against the shaft, tongue flattening against velvet skin.

“Wanna take care of you.”

His fingers flex, curling into fists.

Your eyes meeting his, “Think you like it when I do.”

Frank stiffens at your words, a sharp inhale through teeth. But you miss it - lips parting to take him into your mouth. A moan as you suck, feeling how his cock jerks against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He grits - the flex of his hand, as he cups the back of your neck. Fingers twining into your hair, tugging.

“Just once.”

Don’t know if he’s telling you, or if he’s telling himself. But he doesn’t need to tell you.

There’s a part of you is certain each time is the last you’ll see him.

Always hoping he will come back, of course. Looking for him, even.

But never expecting it.

You’ll take what you can get. What he gives you inching further into your mouth - the hollow of your cheeks as you suck, head gently bobbing.

He’s big. You knew he would be, could feel the heft of him beneath your palm. An ache in your jaw already, but it’s worth it - to give him this.

“Just this one time.” He repeats, hushed.

As if he’s not imaging how you taste. Knowing you’re slick and bare and dripping beneath those shorts. Knowing that’s the only layer he’d need to rip away, to find out how soft you truly are.

Wet and warm, for him. A perfect fit for his cock, though he can’t get enough of the way you hum around him.

Forgotten what it was like.

Spit strings between your lips and his cock, when you pull back. He lets you - that grip loosening, though his fingers stay twisted in your hair. Keeping you close, only slipping away long enough for you to tug the shirt from your shoulders.

Letting it pool on the floor, letting his eyes drag over more bare skin beneath. His touch following without thinking - calloused fingers tracing your shoulders. The soft curves of your tits, palm cupping flesh.

The other hand anchoring himself to you again as before. The curved weight against the back of your head - a gentle, encouraging pressure.

Urging you to his cock again. Already missing the warmth of your mouth. Working him back up to that peak again, and then further - as you take him into your throat.

His breathing grows shorter. Those same sounds that slip from him when your needle sinks too deep, knitting skin together.

Given freely now. Muscles flexing as he bucks into your mouth, chasing the pleasure that threatens to snap inside him.

“Shit, baby.” Frank rasps, “You want me to come on these?”

A squeeze against your chest. You make a low sound in your throat, in response. Eyes flicking up, sinking another inch deeper as your fingers grasp onto his jeans.

“Fuck.” The syllables draw out, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His fingers tug harder. The flicker of pain along your scalp blending with the heat that lingers between your thighs.

Keeping your eyes on his as his hips move just a little faster. Air inhaled through your nose as a hand slips up to curl around his base.

Easing off just enough that you can jerk him into your mouth.

Your name comes out ragged, slipped into a moan. A curl of his lips over teeth, panting breath.

“Gonna make me come, honey.” It’s a warning, but your tongue only curls around the head. Waiting to taste him fully, as he groans.

Another choked breath, his head tilting back, before his cock throbs between your lips. Pulsing against your tongue, as your fist works him empty.

Your eyes close then. Senses narrowing down to the sounds he makes. Filthy, as his fingers tug hard enough to hurt, unconsciously rocking into the suction of your mouth with each drop that spills against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He mutters again.

Softer, this time. Fingers suddenly dropping, shifting to smooth over your cheeks. A low hiss, when you ease off him - only for your head to dip forward again. To catch the last errant drop on your tongue, as it flicks against his slit.

Desperate to keep him, like this, for just a little longer. Yours, if only for a moment.

“You wanna stay? Can make you a real breakfast.”

It slips from you, from kiss-swollen lips as your head tips up. His boxers still a mess around his thighs, your fingers still circled around him.

You’d taste like him, if he bent down to kiss you.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Frank rasps.

“I will.”

perhaps my imagining of a potential sugar x frank meet-cute??? 😁💖 thank you for reading!!

[dollfacefantasy]

hey gorgeous can i request frank making the reader squirt, like the reader was convinced she never could til frank showed her otherwise.

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, squirting a/n: yess thank you for the request <3

with the way frank has you folded up right now, you're shocked nothing has broken. either you or your bed, which knocks against the wall with each slam of his hips.

he has your thighs pinned to your abdomen, your feet tapping the headboard every couple seconds. that combined with your whiny moans and frank's grunts, you're definitely getting a noise complaint tomorrow.

under normal circumstances you would have reminded him to quiet down. but you're so fucked out right now. your eyes have gone glassy, drool leaks out from the corner of your mouth. what your neighbors can hear is the least of your concerns at the moment.

frank swipes some of that saliva away with his thumb before returning his hand to where it was wrapped around the back of your knee. you've been doing this for hours. round after round, he just couldn't seem to get enough of you tonight.

you whimper and arch yourself off the bed. he's still going so fast and hard for someone who's been going so long. you weakly grab at his biceps for some form of support, but it only takes a second for your arms to fall back onto the mattress.

"frank..." you whine, your face contorting with pleasure, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

he watches you with lidded eyes. a deep puff of air seeps from his lungs at the sight of you beneath him.

"i know, baby. i know. you're taking it so well. being so brave for me," he praises, voice rumbling with a hint of teasing.

you want to think of a response equally as mocking, but you just can't. not when he's fucking the thoughts right out of your head.

you squirm a little as your breathing turns to panting. you just wanna find a little relief from the onslaught of ecstasy his dick is beating into you.

he won't have it though. he tugs you sharply by the hips. a loud, embarrassing squelch comes from between your legs. you squeal in response. you try to writhe some more, but the closer angle keeps you pinned beneath his weight. your eyes roll back and you actually think you might pass out for a few seconds.

he reaches down with one of his hands, slotting his fingers against your clit. the thick digits swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid strokes. more strangled moans erupt from your throat. you clutch at the sheets for some reprieve but it doesn't work.

but then you start to feel something different in the pit of your stomach. you cry out, and your eyes flutter as you try to register it. the tip of his cock is just pounding up into that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. it feels kind of like you might piss yourself if you're honest. the rapid hammering of his length combined with the rubbing of his fingers has you losing control.

panic surges through you at the thought. reaching up, you try to tap at his chest and alert him, but you can't get the words out and he's lost in his own bliss. your mewls become more choked. your muscles tense up. you try desperately to hold back, but you can feel yourself approaching it whether you like it or not.

"fuck! i'm gonna cum, i'mgonnacum, i'm gonna-" you say, words slurring together.

he just keeps up his efforts. "go 'head, sweetheart. cum again for me. let it all out," he rasps.

with one more deep push of his hips, you shriek. your vision blacks out as your head snaps back against the pillows. you spasm like you're possessed. your body jerks and twitches beneath his. it's all instinct though. your conscious mind turns off for a few minutes.

vaguely, you feel the warmth of his release flood your insides for another time. you feel his thrusts begin to slow and his noises grow less frequent. both of you are huffing breaths in.

you come to as he slips out of you. you whine, the feeling of emptiness jarring after so much stimulation. but then he lets out a low whistle and chuckles. you pop your head up, confused about the noise. he looks down at you with a lazy smile and shakes his head.

"what?" you ask.

"you made a real mess of me, baby. that's what," he teases.

your brows furrow. you still don't understand. you're about to ask him what's that supposed to mean before you notice how his abs shine, how they drip with a clear fluid you can only assume came out of you. that's when you realize what happened.

your eyes widen. heat creeps up into your cheeks.

"what's that look for?" he asks, amused by your shyness.

"nothing... i just didn't know i could do that," you say.

"oh, you've never done that before?" he asks. a cocky look fills his eyes as he leans forward to peck your lips. "only for me, huh?"

you nod while looking into his eyes.

"well it's not gonna be the only time," he teases and nuzzles his nose against yours. he gives you one more kiss before rising off the bed and tugging you by the ankle in that direction. "c'mon, messy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

even though you're physically exhausted, you couldn't be happier to roll out of bed and trot after him to the bathroom.

[dollfacefantasy]

Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?

Absolutly love the way you write btw 🫶🫶

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3

"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."

your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.

it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.

he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.

the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.

but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.

"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.

he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.

"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.

your head shook back and forth now.

"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.

his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.

a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.

"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.

you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.

"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.

"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.

"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."

"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.

"uh huh," you moaned.

"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.

you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.

"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"

"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.

as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.

"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."

you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.

"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."

ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.

this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.

he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.

finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.

he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.

a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.

"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.

you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.

he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.

[dollfacefantasy]

How’d you think frank would react to reader in subspace! You’re literally one of the only people writing for frank and your writing is so so brilliant!🙂‍↕️

frank castle x fem!reader cw: mdni (18+), smut at the beginning but after that it's just fluff, brief daddy kink a/n: thank you so much angel <33 i gotta keep my fellow frank freaks fed 😤

frank knows you're dropping from the broken whine you let out and the way your hands become grabby, pulling at his shoulders to try and get him as close as physically possible. you always get that way when you start to sink.

he has you on your back beneath his muscular frame, your knees hooked over his shoulders while his cock batters your pussy. his pelvis slams against your center over and over in rough thrusts. he's just pounding you in search of his release.

you'd already cum twice. once on his tongue and once on his cock. the static of overstimulation chipped away at your sensibilities and made you vulnerable. it left you needing him. depending on him.

"just one more for me, baby. c'mon. i know you got it in you," he grunts as his eyes flutter.

"mmm... frankie," you whine. your glossy eyes search to connect with him amidst the haze of lust surrounding you. you babble out the next word while blinking slowly. "daddy..."

he groans at the slurred quality of it. "i'm right here, sweetheart. just gotta cum for me. squeeze me nice and tight."

in this state of mind, defiance isn't an option. you feel your belly starting to flutter along with your legs beginning to flex. the orgasmic spool inside you unravels as though his words work as a direct physical command.

you cry out and arch your back. your arms loop around his neck to cling to him like you're at risk of losing him. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as more choked, pitiful sounds explode out of you. he can feel tears leak from your eyes against his shoulder. you're so close to his ear that he can hear the soft sniffles.

"that's my baby. that's my girl. my good fuckin' girl. so fuckin' good for me, fuck," he grumbles against your skin, his own words trailing off and becoming incoherent.

he presses down on you harder to the point that you're completely squished against the mattress under his weight. his cock is so deep inside you that it'd probably hurt if you were more lucid.

most of the time, he was more gentle with you. everywhere but the bedroom, he treated you as though you were a tiny doll made of glass. when he was close like this though, on the brink draining his balls inside you, being careful felt like something only possible in dreams.

he crashes over the edge hard, growling against your neck and clutching the sheets. his breath comes out in ragged pants as pure euphoria washes through him. you let out tiny squeaks below him, but they're not of much concern right now.

it's after the blissful fog settles that he tends to you.

he rolls off of you once he's almost all the way down. his back hits the bed, and cool air flows between both of your bodies. you lie there for a few moments as if you're dead. if not for the quick rise and fall of your chest, that's what someone may think. your eyes stare at the ceiling, blank and unthinking. tears trail down your temples.

after a few seconds, you start to turn onto your side. you curl up, pupils still cloudy and face void of any specific emotion. in these brief eclipses after sex and before totally settling down, your mind gets stuck in a weird limbo. all you can think about is him. you want him holding you, touching you, taking care of you. but you can't ask for it. can't verbalize the desire for any of that. in the beginning stages of your relationship, he thought you were trying to forget he was beside you.

but now he knows better.

he places a hand on the divot in your waist and pulls you back to him, not letting you draw in on yourself. his nose brushes behind your ear while his lips plant soft kisses on your throat.

"no hiding from me, babydoll. you did so good," he whispers. his hand caress your warm skin, trying to reel you back to him.

you still don't have any words, but your muscles relax for him in an instant. he can feel it under his fingers.

"that's right. i got you, daddy's got you," he mumbles, "let's get you cleaned up."

he rises to his feet on his side of your bed and drags your limp body across it so he can hoist you up into his arms. in your more playful moments, he might throw you over his shoulder, tease you about how he used to have to carry guys like this when he was in the marines. but you're not giggling or squirming right now, so he doesn't.

he scoops you up like a bride and walks over to the bathroom in your apartment. that's when you start coming back a little. you nuzzle at his chest, your warm breath fanning across his muscle.

"there she is," he mumbles.

inside the bathroom, he sits you on the countertop. you lean back against the mirror while he goes to turn on the shower. the surface is cool on your skin. your eyes flutter shut as you relax a bit more.

only seconds later, he's back in front of you. he stands between your thighs and cups your face in one large hand. as quickly as they shut, your eyes pop back open to look at him.

"how're you feeling, pretty girl?" he asks, voice quiet and rough.

you nod in response as if it's a yes or no question. pushing off the mirror, you drape your arms around his shoulders again and press your face to his skin.

"'m ok," you sigh, "just a little sleepy."

"yeah, you are," he says with the hint of a smile gracing his features, "you can knock out as soon as we're done, ok? just let me take care of you."

again, you nod. you never had any objections to handing control over to frank. he lifts you from the counter again and walks into the shower with you.

the hot water streams down onto your bodies below. it trickles from his skin to yours, relaxing both of your muscles. you shut your eyes and keep your head on his shoulder. his fingers twirl in small patterns on your back as he sets you down. the tile is cold on the soles of your feet. you still have to lean against him for balance.

vaguely, you feel his hands running over your body. they’re slippery, slicked up with your sweet-smelling body wash. you swear you hear his deep voice humming, vibrating in his chest beneath your ear, but it could be your imagination.

in total, it feels like the shower is only seconds long. you know you’ve been in there for longer, you felt him run through your whole routine. but time melts away in your mind when you're in this state.

as soon as you’ve acclimated to the smooth surface underfoot, he’s guiding you off of it and onto the cushioned mat outside the shower. you stand there, managing a few lazy blinks.

he laughs softly at that. “few more minutes, sleepy girl.”

with an old towel from the rack, he dries you off. he’s quick but thorough, getting every last little bead of water off of you without being tedious about it.

he scoops you back up after that. your arms and legs latch around him, holding on as he carries you to the bedroom and plops you down on the bed.

“time for sleep?” you yawn, stretching your limbs a bit.

"nice try but you gotta put on some clothes, baby. don't want you catching a cold," he says before heading over to the dresser and grabbing a top for you along with some panties.

"that's not how it works, y'know," you correct while lazily watching him return to you. he tosses the scraps of fabric next to your body on the mattress.

"oh you're a doctor now, huh?" he mutters before tapping your ankle, "put your legs up."

you do as he says without complaint, lifting your legs high into the air so he can pull your panties over them.

"i'm just saying, i wouldn't get sick from sleeping naked," you yawn.

shaking his head, he grabs one of your outstretched arms to pull you up right. despite regaining your ability to speak, you still looked at him with that same dreamy smile you got when you were blissed out.

he tugs the sweatshirt over your head. it was one of his, one of the newer, softer ones you'd bought for him. he'd owned it just long enough and worn it the right amount of times needed for it to smell like him.

"there you go," he says softly and pulls you to his chest for a few seconds. he just feels you in his arms for a moment, pressed against him, safe and sound. as much as you loved being babied, part of the reason he took care of you was for himself too.

he kisses your forehead and then lets you lie down.

"you get comfy, babydoll. i'm gonna put some clothes on, and then i'll be right back," he says before departing to tend to himself for a few minutes.

when he does come back, he's surprised you haven't passed out already. instead, you're tucked under the blankets and curled up to a pillow, waiting for him. you reach out with another grabby hand to signal your desire for him.

"i'm coming," he mutters as he rolls onto the mattress beside you and loops his muscular arm behind your head.

you nuzzle right up to his chest, draping your own limbs over his body. he feels your lips lay a small kiss on his chest.

"get some sleep, baby. don't want you to be all cranky in the morning," he murmurs and shifts a little to engulf you with his frame.

"you're the one who gets cranky..." you reply. but you follow along anyways and shut your eyes. his body heat combined with your soft bedding has you drifting off in no time.

[dollfacefantasy]

FRANK CASTLE THE MAN YOU ARE 🗣️🗣️🗣️

thinking about frank castle who puts his hand over your mouth when he’s fucking you, but not to be mean. not really, anyway.

your faces are all close, he’s got his cock deep inside, you can practically feel him in your guts. all you can do is whimper like a wounded puppy, brows furrowed and eyes staring pleadingly into his. originally, he placed the hand over your mouth because you wouldn’t stop begging and babbling.

“hey s’not what we’re doin’ here alright — now i told you i was gonna make you feel good, am i doin’ that?” he prompts you to nod with his eyes and you do, forever obedient. “yeah, i am. so you’re not gonna beg, you’re not gonna talk — you’re gonna lay there and take this dick like a good girl. yeah?” it seems to be a question again and you sob into his hand, nodding. “okay baby. know it’s hard. takin’ it nice n’deep like i fuckin’ taught you.”

he ups his pace, and now with your mouth covered you can hear the wet sounds your cunt makes as he drags in and out. “yeah— you hear that? hm? you remember that sound. you remember who gets that pretty pussy so wet.”

[dollfacefantasy]

LAST MINUTE ♡

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: when frank won't give you attention, you have to convince him not to leave somehow...

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, boot humping, praise/degradation

wc: 3.3k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him sooooo badddddd. if you send me asks about this man i'll make out with you sloppy. anyways, comments and reblogs appreciated too <3

kinktober slot: day 25 - boot humping

Frank's eyes cast over to the corner of the room where you're sitting in front of the mirror. He can hear you humming to yourself, your voice rising and falling to the soft tune of a song you'd been obsessed with for the last few weeks. Your fingers smear some lotion across your cheeks. The pads of them massage the cream into your malleable flesh.

Your gaze catches his watching you through the reflective pane. He sees a smile spread across your lips before you turn around and spring to your feet. Your body is only covered by a t-shirt of his along with the pair of panties lying beneath. You prance across the bedroom and glide around to hover behind him.

The scent of your lotion and shampoo from the shower you'd just taken cloud the air surrounding him. It's light and airy, like the vision of you that floats through his head nowadays. He wasn't sure when you'd taken up permanent residence there, though he couldn't really complain. Thoughts of you are better than echoing gunshots or screams.

He hums in acknowledgement of your proximity, giving your forearm a pat with his rough hand. It's smooth beneath his fingertips. So untouched it feels wrong to drag his calloused skin across it.

You don't seem to mind though. Not with the way you duck your head and kiss his cheek.

"It seems like something's bothering you," you murmur, the wisps of your breath brushing over his face.

His attention returns to the weapons in front of him. He focuses on cleaning the parts and putting them back together. Your words were kind of stupid. There's always something bothering Frank. Moments where he has a clear head are few and far in between; reserved for when he's asleep in your arms or balls deep in your cunt.

He doesn't say anything rude though. He knows you're trying to be sweet. The statement is your subtle attempt at offering up your ear. You always told him he could vent. He could cry over the past or seethe about his plans for the night, either way you'd be right there. But that would only be if he ever actually took you up on that offer.

Instead, all you get in response is a grunt before a muttered "'m fine, baby."

You frown. He can see it out of the corner of his eye. Your lips turn into that pitiful little pout that drives him up the wall. Good thing his eyes are locked on a different target right now.

"Are you sure? Feel like you got something on your mind," you try again. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers beginning to tenderly massage his tense deltoids.

"Told you I'm fine," he says again. The words are firm and closed off, but they don't strike you as unkind.

"Wellll… if there was anything wrong, would there be anything I could do to make it better?" you whisper.

Your lips press against his cheek bone again before migrating downward. Your soft, plump lips coasts over his jawline and onto his throat. You feel his smile make a brief appearance on his face, but his hands don't stop rotating the cleaning rag over the grip of his gun. He hasn't abandoned his task for you. Yet.

"There's nothing wrong. Don't start makin' a fuss over it," he grumbles.

"C'monnn, Frankie," you say softly, "Just tell me one thing. Even if you feel fine, just tell me one thing that you'd like."

A few more gentle pecks land on his neck. Your fingers continue to swirl and massage into the tender muscles in his shoulders.

"I'd like it if you got some rest tonight and didn't stay up worrying about me or watching the news," he responds.

You roll your eyes. Of course, you were gonna do that regardless. You always worried about him when he was 'working.' He'd spend the hours out taking care of what - or who - ever, and you'd occupy that time in your apartment doing just as he said, pouring over news reports and bouncing your leg until you were so tired your eyes couldn't stay open if they wanted to.

"Be seriousss," you whine, growing more petulant with him.

He glances over at you upon hearing that tone. That rise in pitch never did you any favors with Frank. He didn't fall for the puppy eyes or quivering lip.

"I am serious. I don't want you worrying or stressing. I'll be back tonight, and I want to come back to you sleeping in bed. Not watching for me at the fire escape," he says.

"Ok well pick something I can actually give you now," you concede.

Space. That's what he wants to tell you. Not in an annoyed way. He loves your touch, adores feeling your body heat oozing off of you. But it's hard to get in the mind frame of a killer when your breasts are pushing against his back and your nose is gliding over his throat.

He doesn't say that though because he knows no matter what tone of voice he says it in, you'll only take it in the 'I'm sick of you' way.

"What makes you think I need anything?" he asks. He puts the handgun he'd been working on down on the table and picks up a larger assault weapon instead.

"Oh my god, you're so difficult," you huff, "I'm just trying to be nice to you. I don't like seeing you all grumpy and stressed."

You may not have liked it, but grumpy and stressed was the version of Frank you saw the most. It was the one you fell in love with. The one that spends the night here in your apartment most days of the week. The one who's hoodies you wear. The one who holds you while you sleep and grunts against your skin when he has a bad dream.

"I'm not. I'm just thinking. You're making something out of nothing, sweetheart," he chides.

"You know… I think you just don't want to admit that you need a night off," you say, nodding in agreement with yourself.

"No."

"Just wait. Don't shoot it down before I explain," you try to reason.

"No," he says again.

"Yes! You'd feel so much better if you had one single night to relax," you argue.

He looks at you with a bit of disbelief. "I can't just call in sick. There is no 'night off,'" he says. His tone is strict, no room for negotiation or bargains, but that doesn't stop you from trying.

"I know, but you don't have to go out. You could text your 'people' and they could do whatever for the night," you say. His people is the term you call whoever he works with. You know there's at least one other guy, he's just never told you any names or details. "Just one night to let me take care of you. It would be good for you. And plus, I miss you," you pout.

He eyes you for a moment, dark pupils scanning over each small curve of your face. The pause gives you hope that he's considering it. That maybe he'll choose to stay with you instead of the shipping yards or rooftops.

"Don't give me that 'I miss you' act. You know I miss you too, but I can't just stay with you and sit on my ass all night cause you think it's the magic cure to me being a hardass," he says.

You narrow your eyes as the look on your face likens more to sulking.

"It's not magic… just if you rest, you'd be less uptight," you say. You loop your arms around his neck again and smoosh your cheek against his, letting the prickly spikes of his stubble scratch you.

With a little sigh, your attention shifts to what he's working on. He's still cleaning the metallic item on the desk in front of him. You watch his hands work, moving in methodical swipes. Efficacy learned from years of experience. Still, it's so boring to you that you can't even come up with a question to feign interest. Not that he'd answer anyways. He didn't like involving you in his other job.

You puff air through your lips to signify your apathy. "Frank…" you whimper, right by his ear, soft and quiet.

Usually, you avoid asking him to stay home. You never complain about the awkward hours or inconsistent time you get with him. You don't accuse him of being uncaring or allege that he's using you. But maybe it's the fact that he so blatantly denied you tonight that has your mind acting up.

"Quit while you're ahead, baby. I don't wanna argue before I leave," he says.

"I'm not trying to argue. Why can't you just consider it?" you ask.

"You know why. Now, enough," he says, bringing the discussion to an end.

Your head slumps over onto his shoulder, your ear flush against the cotton of his shirt. Of course, you know why. You know why this stuff is important to him. And it makes you feel guilty for even suggesting a brief reprieve from it.

Sagging down, you slide around to the front of his chair and drop to your knees at his feet. You rest your head on his thigh, displeasure displayed across your lips.

"You're so mean to me," you mutter.

He glances down at you, smirking a little at your exaggerated defeat. "You think so?" he prompts.

"Mhm," you hum, nuzzling against the denim covering his leg.

You scoot a little closer to his leg, pressing your torso flush against the limb. Closing the distance brings his foot to rest right between your legs. You feel it, but you don't care to notice it yet. Instead your fingers massage his calve absentmindedly.

The bedroom is quiet for a few moments spare the sounds of fabric rustling and both of your soft breaths. He just watches you for a few moments before you feel his hand pet the curve of your head.

"So unfair," he says.

You suppress the smile wanting to show on your features. The look of joy at receiving his attention. His thumb swipes back and forth over your skull. The warm weight of his palm coasting over you does soothe ypu even if you still wanna act coy.

"Yeah, especially cause I just wanna spend time with you," you sigh.

"You'll get to. Tomorrow," he responds. You can hear the clipped amusement in his voice.

Just as quick as it came, his hand leaves your head. It's back to the table. He moves onto a knife now, cleaning some grimy stain that you don't even want to know the origin of.

Shifting your head upward, you rest your chin on his knee and glare at him. "But-"

"I'm not gonna tell you again the answer is no."

The words die in your throat, leveling down to a whine. "See? Mean," you say.

You turn your head back to his side, squishing your cheek against his knee. The hard bone divots the soft flesh of your cheek like a crater on the moon.

You're content to just sit in this position and rest there until he stands up to go. To cling to his leg like the words "please please please" are about to spill from your lips. But in your deflated state, you sink down a bit more. You relax the muscles in your thighs and inadvertently bring the seat of your panties in direct contact with the scuffed top of his boot.

It doesn't shoot bliss through you like a bolt of lightening, but it sparks a fuse in the pit of your belly. The solid curve of it slotted right up against your clothed heat.

As an experimental touch, you grind your hips down. You make sure to be subtle, not wanting him to see what you're doing before you can determine if it's worth the humiliation. The muted sensation of pleasure that fills your belly answers that question quickly though.

Once you get the first taste, you rock your hips back and forth in little bursts. It wouldn't be noticeable to a quick glance, but a more intentional look would catch the way your ass pushes forward and back.

What gets him to notice is the feeling of you gripping his leg tighter. You press the hard front of his shin between your breasts and down your stomach harder. That gets him to look in your direction. When he does, he finds the sight of you getting yourself off with his boot.

"What're you doing?" he asks, giving you the chance to explain first.

"Nothing," you answer almost instantly.

"Doesn't look like nothing. Doesn't feel like nothing," he says as he tilts the point of his shoe upward. The boost grants some more friction to your clit, drawing a sharp whine out of you.

"Might have to get you a collar if you keep acting like a puppy, baby," he teases.

"I'm not," you whimper. You press your face harder against his knee as if it could act as a shield against the embarrassment.

"Really? Whining and humping my leg like you're in heat doesn't count?" he mocks.

"Shut up," you choke out.

"Attitude," he tuts. He shakes his head before his eyes flit back to the weapon on the table, letting you do your thing.

And you take advantage of that. Your hips move back and forth like a pendulum. You can feel the thin cloth of your underwear getting sticky as arousal leaks from you at the soft stimulation blooming between your legs. Your poor, swollen clit presses on the firm material as you let out a raucous whine. He tsks at you from above.

"It's getting late. You might wanna keep your volume down," he says.

The words come out so dismissive, so passively entertained. As if you're merely background noise. You can't help whining again. Your grip tightens on him, and your hips move in broader circles. If he's just going to let you do this, you're going to take advantage.

More sparks of white hot pleasure fizzle between your thighs. Your cunt ruts over the expanse of Frank's boot in quick strokes. The fabric of your panties only serves to provide some extra friction. Your eyes flutter and your cheek feels numb from the pressure of his kneecap again.

It feels as if you're in your own little world while doing this. Even if you're attached to him, it still seems like you're in a haze of your own at the moment. Just a lusty daze focused on making yourself feel good.

Vaguely, you can hear the clicks of his equipment above. The rustling of pouches and cloths. The clunking of organization. It all means nothing to you. The only thing you're concerned with is how your folds spread across the shape of his shoe.

You mewl softly. A trickle of saliva leaks from your mouth onto the rough fabric of his pants. All your thoughts have melted away. Your limbs stay locked around his leg, ensuring you have secure leverage to rock yourself back and forth.

He still doesn't acknowledge you. His eyes stay on the table. Honestly, you would believe he didn't even know you were there if not for him lowering his foot and then raising it again. The motion gives you a burst of stimulation, an interruption to the rhythm you'd set for yourself.

A desperate whine crackles out of your throat. You spread your thighs further to get down on him and press your aching pussy against him harder.

"Frank…" you whimper before biting your lip for a moment.

This time he doesn't disregard the call for him. He reaches down, sweeping his hand over your head and cupping your jaw. He directs you to look up at him and gets clear view of your empty eyes.

"What is it, baby?" he asks. His thumb brushes back and forth across your lower lip. The simple touch is enough to send you into orbit.

"I…" you try to start. But words are hard to conjure when thoughts have become nothing more than memory. "I love you," you end up choking out.

He chuckles. "Yeah, you do," he agrees.

You whine and lower your head again. Your body doesn't stop swinging your hips. His hand migrates back to the top of your head.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he says. His voice rumbles out low and quiet, so gravelly you can almost feel the vibrations in your bones.

He continues to gaze down at you. His eyes drink in the sight of you getting yourself off on his leg. Your hips constantly drag over the seamless surface of his shoes. Cute little noises pour from your mouth in a never-ending flow. Your eyes scrunch up and your nose crinkles when rushes of euphoria course through you.

"You gonna cum on my boot, doll? Gonna make a mess?" he rasps.

You nod eagerly. "Mhm. Mhm. Mhm," you whimper. In direct contrast to his, your voice floats into the air light and soft.

"Do it. Maybe I'll have you lick it up afterwards. I know you'd do it. Shit, you'd probably fucking like it," he says.

That's all you need to rush the spark on your fuse to the end and send you into an explosion of pleasure. Your back arches and you cling to his leg like it's a lifeline. Your grip gets so tight that had you been more lucid, you probably would have worried about cutting off his circulation.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your walls fluttering with the urge to feel him spilling inside you in unison. Regardless, you keep rabbiting your hips and working yourself over the peak. Your noises come out more whiny and full of need, aching to hear his grunts in your ear.

As blissed out as you are, your droopy eyes still catch sight of the solid bulge in his pants. You hold out hope that maybe you'll get to have some of what you long for before he goes.

The intensity of your high begins to simmer down to a satisfying warmth as you reach the end. Your hips move slower and slower until they come to a stop. You catch your breath, panting and leaning against his leg totally lax.

He doesn't say anything. He just finishes up what he was doing and lets you come down on your own.

After a few minutes though, he does scoop you up off the ground and into his lap.

"That feel good?" he asks.

Your head bobs up and down.

"Looked like it," he grumbles.

"Not as good as it would've felt with you though," you murmur.

He stares at your content, post-release face. It's not a surprise you want more. Had you not hinted at wanting him to fuck you properly after that, he would have been actually concerned for your well-being.

"Guess you'll have to wait till I get back to find out," he says lowly with a kiss to your temple.

"But Frank…" you say, lazily sliding your hand down. The center of your palm lands on his swelling bulge, giving it enough pressure to drag a hiss from his lips.

He pauses, lets you stroke him a few times. It feels good. He knows he should just push you off. Should send you off to bed now that you're all nice and relaxed. But he can't resist that light caress.

Sighing he lifts you and steps over to the edge of the bed. Dropping you back on the mattress, he starts to remove his belt.

"You got fifteen minutes, ya little brat. After that, I'm still leaving," he tells you before dropping forward and hovering over your body, bringing your lips into a brisk kiss.

[dollfacefantasy]

how’d you think spanking with frank would go ><

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, spanking, brat taming, subspace a/n: eeee thank you for the frank ask bb, i hope you enjoy <3

you cry out as another harsh smack lands on your backside. the sting reverberates across your ass, already burning from several previous swats just like that one.

a whine trickles from your lips, and you lazily kick your feet up and down. it's not an attempt to fight off frank, just a way of coping with the painful glow you feel developing on your cheeks.

either way, your boyfriend doesn't care. you know the rule. no moving when he has you over his knee. he responds to your disobedience with another two swats, one on each side.

you cry out again at that, bucking your hips atop his thighs and trying to squirm forward. now you are trying to get away. you reach out and claw at the blankets in front of you. frank had sat down at an angle when he started this, allowing you to rest your front half on the mattress, to bury your face against the bed if needed.

the position wasn't meant for you to escape though.

wrapping his hands around your waist, he drags you back and centers you on his lap again.

"such a brat tonight. you must want this bad, sweetheart," he grumbles before delivering another firm lash.

you squeal, toes curling and thighs flexing. "'m not being bad," you whimper. your voice comes out breathy through your shaky pout.

"really? we're lying now too?" he taunts, clapping his hand against the space where your thighs meet your ass, "you know you're supposed to stay still. not make this harder for me."

"i can't help it," you plead, "it hurts too much."

he chuckles at the petulant ring to your words. for a moment, you get a little break. he rubs his hand against your bottom in soothing circles, smoothing it over the aching skin. but it only lasts a second before he brings his palm down harder than before, slapping you so hard tears form in your eyes.

"frank!" you whine, sniffling a little.

"it hurts too much," he echoes your words mockingly, "i know you can take it, babydoll. just like all the other times i've had to deal with your attitude."

"i'm sorry," you whimper. you turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glimpse at your shimmery eyes.

it doesn't soften him up any though. he tuts at you and pats your ass. ordinarily, the touch wouldn't hurt, but with how many times he's hit you, it bites a little.

"crying won't get you out of this, honey. i warned you. told you what would happen if you kept running your mouth," he reminds you.

"i know but-" you start only to watch his hand raise again.

his palm is red by this point. you wonder if it stings a little at the same time your skin does. even if it did, frank would never move to something else. he'd threaten the belt on occasion, but you'd never come close to actually provoking it off his waist. it was always his hand correcting your bratty attitude. never a tool. always skin on skin.

a few hot tears stream down your cheeks as he pops you this time. you let out a tiny sob and drop your head forward again.

"i don't want excuses. you take what i'm giving you," he says.

in contrast to his words, his touch eases up a bit. his palm runs up and down your spine, sliding under the hem of your shirt that's bunched around your waist. the thumb on his other hand ducks between your thighs and rubs up and down your center over your panties. the digit slots between your puffy folds. it glides across your clothed entrance, flattening out to massage your slit.

he hasn't even neared your clit yet, and you're already melting. your breathing is still rough, but your sobs have quieted. that light pressure against your pussy is all it takes to reduce you to a puddle. you're not sure why, what part of your brain reacts so strongly to the first sign of tenderness after all the spanks, but it's out of your control.

you lower your head onto the bed, cheek squishing against the cool sheets. one of your hands stays on his knees, loosely attached to the rough denim.

"there you go. take a deep breath," he murmurs.

the tip of his thumb ventures south and circles that throbbing bud. it swirls in tight rotation, teasing its arrival. when it does finally press on your button, you mewl and a shudder courses through your body.

he wiggles the fingertip back and forth, stroking your clit just how you like. your fingers flex against his joint while you smoosh your face into the bed.

"for someone having such a hard time, you're pretty wet," he says, "almost soaking through your underwear onto my leg."

"it still hurts..." you defend weakly.

he huffs out a small laugh. he can tell your head is drifting to that sticky, sweet space where thoughts come second to feeling good. your words sound slightly garbled. your hips lightly rock up and down into his touch.

"yeah, and you like how it hurts, so no complaining next time," he says.

he stops playing with you for a second to flip you over. you whine at first, but settle down the second he gets you cradled to his chest. his hand slips right back into your panties, this time at an angle to rub you more strategically. you whimper, letting your mind empty out again. every little flick to that nub between your legs drains another thought from your head.

frank holds no delusions that this will be the last time you act up to the point of a spanking, but that's because neither of you want it to be. you'd never get tired of ending the night limp and dazed in his lap, and he'd never stop wanting to get you like that.

he didn't mind dealing with his little brat's tantrums when she looked so precious in the end.

[dollfacefantasy]

Heyyy doll! Could you possibly write about frank castle with a reader who is really into praise and stuff, but frankie starts to do like the degradation stuff in bed and she starts getting upset? sorry if this is confusing english isnt my first language!!

MISFIRE ♡

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank fit together like you were made for it. but sometimes even the two of you have miscommunications.

cw: nsfw (18+), p in v, praise/degradation, hurt/comfort-ish, age gap (reader in 20s)

a/n: no worries bb, thank you for the frank request <33

Usually, you and Frank were pretty good at reading each other. You seldom needed words to understand what the other was thinking, which was good for you since Frank didn't say more than a handful of sentences on his chatty days.

But most of the time, looking in his eyes was enough. You knew when he wanted you to take care of him but felt too proud to ask. You could tell when he'd rather you give him some space for the next hour. And the same went for you. One glance at you told him if you wanted to be babied or you just needed him to listen while you talk his ear off about people who annoyed you in your classes.

Like all couples though, you sometimes had your misfires. Times where one of you did something that accomplished nothing but pissing the other off. He learned pretty early on in the relationship that teasing you when you were on your period was off limits while you found out you shouldn't try to scare him as a joke unless you seriously wanted a gun shoved in your face.

They didn't happen too often, but he was now realizing that tonight was one of those instances.

He came home late from a pretty rough night. Bruises littered his body. Cuts, scrapes, and dried blood marked up his face. When he'd trudged through the entryway of your apartment, he was relieved to find you already fast asleep in bed. Had you been awake he could only imagine the worried look that would have taken over your features.

Instead, you remained fast asleep in your bed as he unlaced his boots and shed his clothes. He came over and planted a kiss against your temple before heading off to shower. The water washed away the remnants of the night speckled across him while the steam loosened up his muscles. He relaxed a bit, letting the adrenaline fade away and drain from his system just like the bloody stream of water was on the floor of your tub.

When he finished, he dried off, got dressed, went about the usual routine. He knew he should join you in the bed, but part of him still felt wound up. There was still the lingering anger that came with his nocturnal activities. The rage pricked at him even after the action was over, reminding him that it wasn't gone just because some of the people responsible were.

He tried swallowing it down, pretending it wasn't there so he could get some rest. But when he came back into the bedroom you had woken up. You were facing the bathroom door, your eyes sleepy and open only a crack. Just enough for him to tell you were watching him.

Looking back, he doesn't know what he was thinking. You were obviously gonna be too tired for anything more than some lazy thrusts and sloppy making out. But the version of him from twenty minutes ago hadn't put that together.

You made grabby hands at him, signaling you wanted him close. "Hi," your sleepy voice said before a yawn interrupted you.

"Hey, baby," he rumbled as he approached the edge of the mattress. The neediness radiating off of you had him half-hard already.

He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over you before ducking down for some kisses. His lips were rough against yours, his movements much more demanding than they should have been. You let out a little noise of surprise, but it went ignored for the most part.

In all honesty, he thought you were ok with it. Your hands found his shoulders like they always did. They trailed down his biceps and squeezed the muscles. Your mouth met every kiss.

He tugged your top up to get at your panties. His fingers hooked beneath the waistband, tearing them away without a second thought. He didn't do much prep work for you. He swirled the rough pads of his fingers against your delicate little bud and figured that was all he needed. You never had a problem getting wet for him, and from the feel of it, that was still true tonight.

"You been missing me, huh?" he breathed against your mouth between kisses.

"I always do," you mumbled.

"That's my girl. Cute little pussy always ready for me to use," he said.

He should've known right then because normally a line like that would have had you rolling your hips up for more. But you didn't really respond this time around. Just pulled him into some more kisses.

He wasn't too interested in kissing though. Instead, he moved his mouth down to your neck. He nipped at the skin and scraped it with his teeth before trying to suck little marks onto the area. His hands shoved his boxers down to get at his already stiffening cock.

After giving it a few tugs, he yanked you closer and pushed your legs open nice and wide. He dragged the tip of his shaft through your slick a few times before sliding in, bottoming out in one go.

You whimpered at the stretch. You'd taken Frank so many times by this point, but he was thick. It took a little adjusting every go. He didn't really give you that tonight though.

He lowered his head to the crook of your neck and began fucking himself into your cunt. Your eyes fluttered, your breath hitching at the rough slaps of his pelvis against your thighs.

It still felt good. Every stroke brushed a pleasure spot inside you, causing you to squirm. Little whines slipped from your mouth into the darkness of the bedroom.

"That feel nice?" he grunted, slamming into you harder.

You sucked in a breath and nodded. His hand came up to cup your jaw. He squeezed it, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks as a point of leverage.

It didn't hurt, but it kind of ached. The tight grip didn't cause sharp pain. You just felt like there would be a dull throb when he let go. Shaking your head a little bit, you tried to brush his fingers off, but he just jerked your head still before moving his mouth closer to your ear.

"Yeah, you just lay there and take it. Lemme do all the work like always. Fuck that slutty little pussy like she needs. Taking you for what you're good for," he muttered.

It was meaningless dirty talk, and you knew that. But something about tonight had you extra sensitive. Maybe it was the fact that you just woke up, maybe it was because you had a long day today. You just were starting to feel less good as the seconds ticked on.

"My little whore," he continued, "Takes it however I tell her to. Like a little doll for me."

He just kept thrusting harder and harder, chipping away at your will with each motion. You knew it wasn't like he was saying anything that bad. He'd said much worse before and got you off to it. It's just that when you're not in the mood for this kind of stuff, it hits in the wrong way. It feels uncomfortable and awkward, and the intense physicality of the experience exacerbates it.

Everything felt icky in the moment. Suddenly the way his head was slotted against your neck didn't feel extra close. It only made you notice how he wasn't looking into your eyes. The way he was grabbing you didn't seem so sexy. It just felt needlessly harsh and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, but he felt you tense up a little. At first he thought maybe something hurt. His hips began to slow, but before he could ask the question, he heard a whimper. Not the kind that bordered on being a moan. The cracked kind that came out as the last barrier before tears.

Then his hips came to a screeching halt against your center. He lifted his head from your throat and loosened his grip on your face. Pulling back to look at you, he saw the shine of tears in your eyes and the slight quiver in your lip.

"Hey..." he started softly, "Hey baby. You ok?"

He looked down at you with concerned confusion which just made you feel worse. God this was stupid.

"Y-yeah," you stammered.

His brows furrowed with worry, not convinced by your answer. The rage from earlier was abating now, replaced primarily by guilt.

"You sure?" he checked, "You can say no if that's the answer."

You sniffled and shook your head. Your hands landed on each of his cheeks and pulled his head down to rest his forehead against yours.

"I'm ok... it was just... it was too much for right now," you explained.

His chest ached at the idea that you'd been feeling uncomfortable with any of what he did, but the fact that you weren't breaking down was a good sign. You were never the best at controlling your emotions, so if something worse was wrong, he doubted you'd be able to hide it.

He could tell you didn't want this to turn into a big thing, so he tried to give you that. It wasn't like he was in the mood for some huge emotional blow out either. His hips inched back before pushing into you a little.

"Was I being too rough on my baby?" he asked.

"A little," you said.

He nodded, kissing one of your cheeks and then the other. He nuzzled your skin while slowly beginning to move his lower half again. This time around he was much more conscious of his speed. He worked with more care, still pleasuring both of you but being gentle about it.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl," he said, kissing your lips with all the love he could muster. He never would have thought himself capable of pivoting so quickly from rough and hard to slow and easy, but when it came to you, it wasn't even a difficult thing.

"I'm sorry too. I know-" you started.

"Hey, hey, none of that," he chided, his voice husky, "You're good for being honest, yeah? I'm always telling you not to be shy with me. If it's too much for you, it's too much."

"I know, I just didn't wanna make it weird cause I feel all sensitive tonight," you said.

A soft moan drifted from your lips after that as his cock continued sliding in and out of you. You hooked your arms around his back, keeping him close.

"You didn't make anything weird. You get too trapped in your own head sometimes," he said, "I'm just tense after work, y'know. But it's not your job to put up with that. If you want it soft and slow, then that's what you're gonna get."

"Thanks," you whimpered. You kissed at his neck next, trying to reciprocate the love he was giving you.

"It's nothing, honey. I always wanna take care of you. Never wanna hurt you," he murmured.

He allowed his eyes to shut for a few moments so he could get lost in the pleasure of your cunt squeezing around him. It was only for a couple seconds though. Then his gaze was back on you.

His hand returned to your face with a much more gentle touch. With a few fingers on your chin, he guided you to look at him again.

"Look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes," he whispered.

You obliged the request, staring into the eyes of the man you loved so much.

"That's my girl," he praised, planting another kiss on your lips, "My perfect pretty girl."

Those words settled you completely. You didn't feel anymore discomfort from before. You relaxed into the pleasure of now, letting yourself melt away beneath him.

It didn't take either one of you too long after that to cum. Your soft little whimpers and sighs brought him to the edge while his eyes on your face and caring hands rubbing your sides got you there.

In the afterglow, he'd normally just lay there with you pressed to his side, but tonight he sat up and dragged you into his lap. He cradled your body against his chest, keeping you nice and close.

He rocked you back and forth, his large palm rubbing up and down your back.

"You ok now?" he whispered.

You nodded against his chest. "It was still good for you, right?" you asked and looked up at him from where your face was squished against his chest.

He scoffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Course it was. I was with you, wasn't I?" he said.

You smiled and nodded. You knew the answer was gonna be something along those lines, but you liked hearing it. Leaning up, you gave him a quick kiss before sinking back into bed and tugging on him to cuddle. He followed and raised his arm for you to slide under.

"Tomorrow if I feel better I'll let you fuck me for real," you sighed as you got comfy against his chest.

"Oh will you?" he said with mild amusement, "For someone feeling so sensitive, you still got quite the mouth on you."

"It's just the truth," you yawned.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get some rest, alright? We can deal with how you're feeling tomorrow, tomorrow" he hushed you with a loving roll of his eyes.

He kissed your forehead and watched as you nodded and quieted down to allow yourself to fall back asleep like you had been before he got home.

[dollfacefantasy]

Frank noticing you oogling him all sweaty while working out so he decides what’s the harm in you helping him out a little.. sitting on his back during pushups.. wrapping yourself around him like a koala during chin ups- and he swears you are just helpin him out with hip thrusts when he Manövers you to sit on his cock afterwards.. not like he was intending on rewarding you (making you cum) or anything.. he’s totally completely innocent…

HEHE yes!!! this is canon to me. i'm admiring ur brain rn.

frank fucking lovessss this shit. he loves you on his back, giggling as he grunts and pushes up and down. he loves how you trace his shoulder blades and sigh in an over the top way "you're so strong, frankie." he loves the feeling of your cheek squished against his body when you're clinging to him during chin ups.

"you comfortable down there?" he'll ask, glancing down at you.

you're just smiling up at him with your eyes bright enough to melt his heart. you look at him like he's the greatest thing you've ever seen, and he almost can't take it.

after he lowers himself back to the floor and helps you up, he's guiding you over to the couch for another exercise. you can actually help him with this one. it'll even stretch you out too!

and then before you know it, he's holding you on top of him, thrusting up into your pussy. he grunts just like he does when he works out. no wonder the sounds get you so worked up. his biceps flex while his eyes stay trained on your face, watching every little reaction you have.

it's a win-win to be honest. it's definitely gonna become part of his workout routine.

[dollfacefantasy]

Thinking heavy about cock warming frank while watching a movie. maybe you get squirmy, restless and empty until you're pawing at his sweats just to get him to agree to let you suckle on him.. Not to do anything else, just soothe, feel the weight of him on your tongue, jamming your jaw open as he coos at you and pets you hair.. 😵‍💫😵‍💫

goddddd something fluttered in me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

he so would too. as soon as your hand slides into his lap, he's onto what you want. he guides your head back into his chest further, planting a little kiss to your hair, a test to see if that can settle you. but you look up at him with needy, longing eyes, the heel of your palm gently grinding on his length through his pants.

"don't give me that look," he grumbles, but he's already undoing his fly and boosting his hips to shove his pants down.

once his cock is out, he directs you down there till he feels you wrap your lips around him. he sinks back into the couch cushions and lets you rest your head on his abs. you're quiet and totally content, just lazily suckling on the tip. he pets your head, runs his hand over your shoulder and arm in long, gentle strokes.

"that better?" he asks, his voice low, "you're getting so spoiled, baby."

you whine softly at that, but you're not offended enough to pull off so...

he just chuckles and pets your head some more. "hush. you're a good girl, yeah? you just keep quiet while that pretty mouth's full. let yourself relax," he soothes.

he can't see your face, but he feels your little sigh fan against his pelvis. the image fills his head, your eyes shutting as you allow your thoughts to fade away and resign yourself to listen to the background chatter of the tv while letting his cock pacify you.

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey Kenny random question!! Do you think frank is the type of guy to wake his girl up by eating her out on her birthday??

omg yes, and i think he'd be the type to do that just when he feels like you need it idk. like he knows you've been having a hard week and you've been really stressed out about a bunch of different things. he just wants to give you a little break. something to make you feel better at the start of the day.

whatever the reason may be, he makes sure to wake before you. he watches you sleep for a few moments. if you did open your eyes at that moment, you'd probably laugh and call him a creep, but he can't help admiring you like this. you look so peaceful, your features all soft and relaxed. it's how he always wants you to feel with him.

so he slides down between your legs. he's real careful about it. the goal isn't to scare you awake or to get you screaming for him in a matter of seconds. he wants you to feel good. to start, he massages your legs, rubbing the smooth skin with his rough hands. then he kisses up your inner thighs and noses at your cunt over your cute little panties.

when he pulls them off you, he just kisses your pussy. just soft, gentle pecks to your clit and over your folds. after a little while, he'll finally bring his tongue out to swipe across the flesh. you squirm a little at that sensation, but he keeps up the same tender touches that eventually grow more passionate. you finally start to moan when he delves his tongue inside you. your head pops up, and you look down at him with bleary eyes.

"frankie?" you mumble in a sleep-addled tone.

he hums in response, taking an extra moment to draw a few more whimpers out of you by sucking on your clit. "morning, baby," he says lowly. "someone's birthday's today, isn't it? thought i should start it off by giving you one of your presents."

he glances up at you with teasing eyes. you only see them for a moment before your head falls back in pleasure again. even though your sleep was cut short, this was a much better way to wake up compared to the jingling of your alarm.

[dollfacefantasy]

Today i give you the thought of frankie hooking his big arms under your thighs while he eats you out; partly so you cant squirm away from his mouth and partly so you can hold his hands tight to ground you😵‍💫

Not to mention him rumbling groans of praise and worship against your clit

-sincerely, cockwarming anon <3

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

real as fuck cause frank doesn't play about eating pussy. it's not a game, he is on a mission when he's down there. sometimes it's for your pleasure, sometimes it's for his own, but either way he's dedicated and focused. and he's so fucking strong. you can feel his biceps flexing against your legs while holding you in place. you're totally soaked between your thighs cause he gets messy about it. he's lapping at you, just making out with it.

as you start getting closer, the urge to squirm increases but he still has you pinned down so well. he knows you're losing it though so he offers one of his hands out and tells you to squeeze it as hard as you need. it gets him off too, seeing the size difference and feeling how your hardest grip is like nothing to him <3

[dollfacefantasy]

hi kenny! hope you’re doing good. my Frank Castle obsession is back and i’m curious what his fav positions would be. i imagine him being gentle but still rough, a lot of eye contact with a constant need to touch you.

hii and thank you <3

i think for frank his favs would be missionary and prone bone.

so missionary for kind of obvious reasons. like you said, he loves that eye contact. he loves watching your face while he's inside you. also having you like that means he can kiss you, put his forehead on yours, all that lovey dovey shit if he's feeling it. but if he's in the mood to be rough, he can grab your face and make you look at him.

prone bone would be another contender though. he likes feeling you underneath him, squirming and shifting around as he thrusts nice and deep. and he thinks it's so cute when you press your face into the blankets in attempt to hide the little expressions he loves so much.

[dollfacefantasy]

hii Kenny ! hope you’re having a great day. been obsessing and craving both Frank and Krauser lately. i was wondering what kind of headcanons you have of them. both sfw and nsfw.

(btw have read every single one of your Frank Castle fics. i’m absolutely in love with how you write him:3)

hii and thank you <33

ummm one hc i have for krauser is that he keeps reader's nudes in his wallet. not even hidden either. if he's opening it to get cash or his id, you're gonna unknowingly flash anyone standing nearby without even being there.

and for frank... it's kind of hard to just spout one off the top of my head 😭 but i feel like over the course of his and reader's relationship, he'd kinda pick up parts of your music taste. he doesn't tell you or anything. you don't even know until one day he's driving you somewhere and a song you like comes on. not only does he not skip it, but he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with it.

[dollfacefantasy]

can't stop thinking about how frank would be with a pregnant reader. like i'm 100% sure he would pamper her more than usual, and having sex wouldn't be as rough and hard as always. he would have reader surrounded by soft pillows and having slow sex with her, making sure he doesn't hurt her and checking in every few minutes asking things like "you okay there, mama?" 'cause i know for sure he would call her mama every once in a while, and he keeps one hand on her belly at all times. that's it, that's the current brainrot.

YESSSSSSSS oh my god. yes. he babies the fuck out of reader if she gets pregnant. half of it is just his nature, the other half is cause he's a nervous wreck about the pregnancy. he won't let her see that, but it definitely has him feeling all over the place.

also i feel like you're spot on cause he definitely would be calling her mama 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 and like outside of sex i feel like he'd be very touchy with her belly too. at first he's not, but as soon as she starts to show, he can't help himself. he's always kissing it, rubbing it, talking to the baby... cutesy stuff she teases him for, but he just rolls his eyes and waves her off.