#frank castle x gn!reader

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Idk if your requests are open but if they are I thought that frank castle x reader fic with a line 'You're an asshole but I love you' could be cute

Hi nonny, here you are, written for @theradioactivespidergwen 's 🍂Sweater Weather Writing Challenge🍂. 😊

🍁Frank Castle x gn!reader🍁

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

"A'right, c'mon baby, it's time to get up."

You groan, stretching and yawning loudly, the difference between the dark behind your eyelids and the darkness in the room barely perceptible as you blink your eyes open sleepily. The covers are pulled back, not in anger, but the jarring of waking up so early makes it feel like it and you're grouchy and on the defensive.

"Fraaaank nooo! Why?!" You whine, reaching out and scrabbling to get the corner of the soft duvet back over you but it's no use, he holds it hostage and then hooks his arms under your outstretched ones and lifts you up from the mattress.

"Because I clearly remember you sayin' somethin' like; 'Frank, I agree to you waking me up before dawn even if I get all pissy about it'. So c'mon darlin', we're on a schedule."

You concede but grumble about it as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready. "Ugh, yeah well, past me was an idiot."

Frank just laughs and heads to the kitchen to get everything else you need together.

You're yawning almost constantly in the truck on the way, pleading for the Thermos of hot coffee you know he's got stashed somewhere as you pull your warmest hoodie and scarf up around your neck.

"Ten more minutes darlin'. I promise, just a lil longer. It'll be worth it." He responds, with a knowing smile.

Your breath makes ephemeral clouds of mist in the air when you first step out of the truck after Frank eventually pulls up at the parking spot. There's thick trees all around and the ground has the slightest hint of a frost making the leaves and grass crunch beneath your boots.

The birds are already wide awake and broadcasting their twittering, musical trill as Frank takes out the bag with the supplies, slinging it over his shoulder and then leads the way up a trail. You wind your way up the hill with your hand nestled in his, his fingers occasionally rubbing over the tips of yours to keep them warm.

The thick blanket Frank sets down in a spot at the crest of the hill keeps the cold ground at bay, the moss providing a welcome cushion underneath. You sit down, leaning into his body, his arm wrapped around you holding you to his warmth as you both silently sip at your steaming coffee and take in the beauty beginning to unfurl before you.

The first rays of the sun, bands of deep amber fire and crimson slowly emerge over the horizon, gradually and fantastically spreading a wash of the beautiful golden light of a new day across all of the trees below. It's as if you're the only people in the world just then, hidden in your own little universe.

"Frank?" You say, quietly, almost reluctant to break the spell of this moment. As you look at him you see the autumn light reflected in his warm brown eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I'm tired, and you're an asshole, but this is perfect and I love you."

His deep laugh shakes you and he wraps his arm tighter around your shoulders, pulling you closer to plant a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[devils-dares]

frank castle x reader with like a bakery au or where he always comes in just to see her

wordcount: 1004

i apologize for any editing errors, my brain is not working currently.

-----

“Black with room and a slice of toast?” You ask, cleaning out an espresso puck when you see Pete at the counter.

“You know it, sugar.”

“For here or to go?” You wipe your hands on your apron, punching in the items in the register.

“For here, favorite spot’s open.” He nods his head towards the small chair and table in the corner of the cafe, basked in golden morning sun.

“Alright, have a seat,” you smile at him, “I’ll bring it over.”

Readying his coffee and filling a cup with cream, you deliver everything to him. He looks up at you with wide soft eyes, muttering a “thanks, sugar.” before indulging himself.

It wasn’t a busy day, a Tuesday at 10am meant the morning rush had left and it was only retirees and people like Pete. You’d kept the counters clean and baked more treats, but there wasn’t much to do. You boxed a few to-go orders, only leaving the counter when someone wanted to have their coffee topped up.

Sooner or later, you find yourself and Pete alone in the cafe, life bustling outside the cafe doors. You hum along to the background music playing, and Pete scratches away at his journal. He stares out the window a few times, watching families with an almost heartbroken look in his eyes. You watch him for a while, and although he can feel your eyes on him, he lets you.

After he sits in the cafe for about two hours, he gets up with a sigh, wrapping up the leather-bound journal and tucking it into his pocket.

“I’ve gotta be on my way, sweetheart,” he calls out to you, “see you soon.”

“Wait!” You call out after him, “can you- can you take this? Just as a taste test, it’s a new recipe I’m working on and I need someone other than myself to tell me how it is.” He glances at you wearily but still takes the pastry bag. You watch him leave, sighing when he leaves. He was genuinely one of your favorite customers, he didn’t talk much but when he did, the two of you had amazing conversations about everything. You didn’t know much about him, only that he served as a marine and didn’t really have anyone else, other than a nice man named Curtis who came in maybe twice.

—--

A few days had passed before you saw him in the morning at opening time. He was the first customer, in fact, ordering his usual with the addition of the pastry you gave him the other day, “if you have it sweetheart.”

“I take it you enjoyed it?” He hums.

“Keep giving me treats like that and I'll be your taster forever.”

“Gotta come here every day then,” you tease, “constant feedback.”

He tenses at your words and you panic, thinking you overstepped or something, but he relaxes soon enough.

“I’ll see.” He says simply, and that was that. He takes a seat after paying and you deliver him his typical order, along with the pastry. He hums out a thanks and you leave him to himself.

The cycle continues, he sits quietly in his spot jotting in his journal while you tidy up the never ending mess. He takes his leave after a few hours, and you wave him off after giving him a new pastry to try, cleaning up his table when he leaves. You spot a napkin face-side-down on the table, sharpie ink bleeding through the thin sheet. You look around before flipping it over.

“So you don’t have to wait for my reviews.” It read, and under was his phone number scribbled into the napkin. You smiled, thinking you’ll wait until tonight to text him.

—--

“Hey Pete.” Frank’s phone dinged as he stitched himself up, glancing knife wound on his thigh. He cleaned himself up of blood and grime before responding to you.

“I was waiting for you to text me, sugar.” His teeth gritted almost immediately after sending the text, hoping he didn’t come off as too straightforward.

“Did you try the pastry I packed for you?” Your response read. He smiled.

“Eating it right now. It’s yummy.” He could hear your laugh, airy and full of light.

“Glad you like it, any criticism?” You ask.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta pack me more next time, sweetheart.”

“Will do.” The two of you ended up texting for hours about everything and anything and Frank realizes just how easy it is to talk to you. You two talk until Frank realizes the gaps between your texts are growing longer and longer, and Frank chuckles at you.

“Head to bed, sugar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Promise, Pete?” His heart aches just a little when he hears his fake name.

“Of course.”

—--

Sure enough? He’s there when you walk to the door, bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” You joke, inserting your keys into the lock to open up the café.

“They’re uh- actually for you.” He hands the flowers to you.

“Oh! Thank you!” You take the flowers, grabbing a vase from behind the counter and placing the flowers in them, displaying them on the counter.

“Do you want to order anything?” You ask as he makes his way towards the counter.

“No.” He says simply, and he places his hands on your hips.

“This okay, sugar?” He asks, thumb rubbing light circles.

“Yeah.” He leans down, lips hovering right over yours, but he lets you make the final move to pull him in.

The kiss was short and sweet. His hands pulled your hips flush to his as your arms wound themselves around his neck.

“Pete…” your voice trails off.

“It’s Frank.”

“What?” You pull away.

“My name, it’s Frank. I don’t like people getting too close, but I’d break that rule for you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, you’re not as mysterious as my last boyfriend, he had a lot more secrets than that.”

“You’ve no idea, sugar.” He leans down to kiss you again.

[graveyardnails]

Please Don’t Let The Morning Take Him

Summary: After a fight, you and Frank have an odd way of discussing your feelings. 

Warnings: The Big Sad, overall pretty fluffy, a little angsty. Nothing really graphic though. 

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 2.5 k

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a break up. You two were never dating, just acquaintances, it seemed like. 

So why did it hurt when he left? You even told him to get out, and the look on his face had broken you. For a short moment, it was like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His jaw clenched as his eyebrows arched down for a moment. Frank looked almost lost, but soon his words matched yours.

“Yeah? Great. I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.”  

And he did. Frank hadn’t even taken his shoes off; just turned and left the same way he came in. The scene played in your head countless times since that night.

Your relationship was a simple one; You were ex special forces, he was an ex marine turned vigilante. Both of you had been pawns for the United States and had done and seen horrible things. There was common ground there.

He’d ask you for help with missions from time to time, you agreed and went along. Frank would make you feel like you weren’t so alone. He came to your doorstep 2 feet away from death, you’d patch him up. Frank made you laugh; you would forget about the reality of both your lives for a while.

And you didn’t ask questions, because you understood. You harbored similar feelings he did about the world, and how to deal with it. The only difference was, you seemed to be content with stopping, while he went and went and went. Frank was relentless. 

So when there was a loud and hard series of knocks on your door, you knew exactly who it was on the other side.

Frank stumbled in, covered in blood and looking like he was having the worst day of his life. Before you could reach over to help him stand, he lifted his arm to hold out a bouquet of roses. You could see the blood drip from his hand because the thorns were pricking into him. 

You didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at them. 

Frank grunted as he passed you. He shut the door behind him and walked into the kitchen. You stood in the hallway a few moments, staring at the door like it was going to give you any answers. Your heart was pounding in your ears. What just happened? 

You went into the kitchen to see him filling a large pitcher of water, putting the roses in it, and then placing the entire thing next to the sink. You could see his blood mixing in with the water, the blood stains on the pitcher’s handle.

He didn’t turn to look at you. Frank hung his head as he leaned against the counter. There was a stiff silence in the room that made everything slow down.

How long had it been? A few weeks, at most. The fight had been at the forefront of your mind since. You hated to admit that it was something you weren’t getting over, but if he was never going to come back, then you would find peace, eventually. 

So why was speaking suddenly the hardest thing to do? Your throat felt tight as you thought to bombard him with questions. How dare he? Who did he think he was? Did he really think some bloody roses would fix everything? 

Why would he feel the need to fix anything? 

And had Frank not collapsed onto the floor seconds later, you probably would have asked.

                                                             ***

You cleaned Frank up as best as you could, but he was out from pure exhaustion. It was one of the rare times that he didn’t have many injuries. There was a cut by his eyebrow, a cut on his bicep, but nothing close to life threatening. 

You cleaned the cuts on his hands from the roses that still sat on your kitchen counter. Based on the dirt that was underneath his fingernails, you could only assume that he ripped them out of the ground himself. A deep sigh escaped you, but it seemed to let in more room for confusion. You expected, and were fully prepared, to never see Frank again, but here he was, laid out on your couch, sleeping soundly. It was surprising that you were even able to tend to him without disturbing him at all. 

There were multiple cuts on his shirt and it was probably a deep navy color before the blood turned it black. His chest rose and fell slowly, consistently. Your gaze came to his neck and then up his jaw, to his nose. Frank joked about how it was the ugliest part of his face since he’d broken it too many times to count. You never agreed.

It wasn’t often that his eyes were so peaceful. It was a stark difference from when he was in combat. Frank had this look in his eyes that could kill on the spot. You had seen it before, and it made you grateful that you’d never been at the other side of that look. It was no surprise why his targets would be pissing themselves before Frank could even get his hands on them.

You sighed again, the weight of his hand in yours becoming more noticeable. It was clean now with the small red cuts from the rose thorns. What had he been thinking? He had obviously come from a mission. Was it even fair to say that since he was so unscathed? Maybe a slaughter was more accurate. And yet, he had the time, patience and thought to rip the roses out of someone's yard. For you. 

For you?

Lord, this man was a mystery. 

The bigger mystery, however, was how you found it endearing. Through the anger, there was a small plant of something you couldn’t quite figure out yet. It had nestled inside you since the moment you both met. Given both of your pasts, it wasn’t something you entertained. Since leaving the military, whatever this feeling was had no place in your life. 

But when you looked at Frank, it felt different. When you thought about him, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. He made you laugh and reassured you that you weren’t crazy. Frank knew what it was like to have everything taken from you, to be left alone and taken advantage of. 

One of your fingers traced the ridges in Frank’s hand, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” 

It had started off innocently enough. Frank was becoming more sporadic with his visits, which didn’t necessarily bother you, but it did make you feel more lonely. He would pop in, usually needing some medical attention, and then leave soon after. You began to notice that he would come to you with more serious injuries, especially if it had been a while.

“Frank, if you need help, please ask me. I don’t want anything happening to you.” You had already been on some missions with him before, but he had stopped asking. 

“Don’t want to bother you.” 

You sighed, “You’re not bothering me. I’m just getting concerned with how many injuries you’re leaving untreated.” 

He wasn’t even looking at you, “I’ll be fine.” 

“Fine? There’s only so much I can do, and I can’t call an ambulance if-”

“And you think being on the front lines with me will fix everything?” 

Frank had never been one to cut you off. 

“I’m saying that if you had another person there, someone could watch your back. You wouldn’t come out this battered.” 

Frank’s jaw tightened. He kept his gaze forward. You dropped your hands to your side, waiting for him to respond.

“I work alone.”

“Oh really? Since when?” 

Another pause. You could feel your frustrations rise. 

“Why are you being this way to me?” You finally asked, “you know I am willing to help you, Frank. I don’t want you to feel like you -” 

“That’s the problem.” He cut you off again, but this time he turned to look at you, “You are willing to give it all up for me, and I can’t let you.” His face was hard but there was a pain in his eyes that you hadn’t quite seen before.

For a moment you were speechless. Never did you think Frank felt that way, and it sent a sickly feeling through your body. Your brows came together in worry and you could feel a hard ball rolling its way up your throat.

“I’m not throwing anything away.” You asserted, arms crossed. 

“Yeah? I don’t live the life you deserve, y/n.” 

“What are you talking about?!” But deep down you knew exactly what he meant. 

Frank gestured around your living room, “you pulled yourself from it. You have a nice life now, and I can’t keep coming in to disrupt it. 

Anger began to suddenly pool inside you, “If you’re trying to leave, then go, Frank. I’m not trying to tie you down anywhere.” 

He looked away again, clenching his jaw. Part of you wanted to pull him into a hug, but the other had already convinced you that he was always meant to leave. Of course he was. 

When Frank looked at you again, his brows came together in a hard stare that was betrayed by the glistening in his eyes. 

“Yeah? Great. I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” 

You gestured to the door, and he didn’t hesitate to leave through it.

You thought about what you had said. You felt so stupid pushing him away. To no one’s surprise, these feelings that you were so used to suppressing were now bubbling to the surface. No amount of denial or anger could make you ignore them now.

You spent so many years burying how you felt; You wanted to make your family proud, so you joined the military. You wanted to be a good soldier, so you always followed orders, even when it required you to do heinous things. When you were recruited to be in special forces, you said yes. You did everything to look good on paper so no one could deny that you were worth something, but it was all at the expense of your safety, your stability, your mental health. After leaving, it had finally dawned on you that everything you did only caused pain, and you had never felt more worthless. 

But you didn’t feel that way around Frank. Nothing ever felt forced or unnatural. You two had slipped into a comfortable friendship that felt genuine. You both understood each other, and even if your lives ended up in different places, there was this thing tethering you to each other. It was the closest thing to home you had ever felt.

“I don’t want to push you away.” You spoke quietly while looking into his hand. He was asleep, but it felt easier to not look at him, “I’ve been alone for so long, but things feel right with you. I feel at peace with you.” A small dry chuckle escaped you, “which, given both our lives, is a rare feeling.”

“But it’s you I want. I think I’ve been too stupid to realize.” Tears began falling down your face, “I could never tell you this. I would never ask you to change your whole life for me.” You took a deep breath, looking over at his sleeping face. 

“But goddamn it, I’m in love with you, Frank Castle.” A bright feeling in your chest blossomed, making your face hot. It was true it was true it was true. The words hung in the air with persistence. 

You put his hand back on the couch and stood up to clean the tears from your face. 

                                                         ***

You had decided to sleep in the recliner next to the couch. Just in case something happened, you’d be right there. 

Sleeping had already started to feel different. Even though it had still taken you a few hours to actually fall asleep, it came to you peacefully this time. 

“I’m sorry for ruinin’ your evening.” Frank’s voice had woken you up. He spoke in a low tone, “I needed to come back and apologize, but I got caught up, as I normally do.” You could hear Frank sigh. 

He wasn’t able to see you from where you sat, and you were too caught off guard to speak. Instead, you looked at the wall ahead of you, listening to what he had to say. 

“I know you told me to get out, but I shouldn’t have stormed out the way I did. I never wanted to make you feel like you were a burden to me.” 

Another pause. You thought about speaking up. 

“Because you’re not, y/n. You are far from that. My fear of knowing that is what started all this shit.” 

He paused again, shifting slightly in his seat. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“I understand what you’re feeling. You’d probably kill me if you ever found out that I heard you talking to me, but I… feel the same way.” 

Your cheeks became hot at the sudden realization that Frank had been listening. He had been listening just like you had now. You quietly brought your blanket up to your face, as if that would lessen your embarrassment. 

“I knew I couldn’t leave like that. I couldn’t leave with you thinking I hated you.”

There was another long pause as you listened. You had to fight every urge to cry.

“I love you too. While I was gone, you were all I could think about.” 

It felt like the world had stopped spinning. His words rang in your ear like your favorite song. You brought the blanket down from your face, swallowing hard. 

“Frank?” You spoke quietly, “You really mean that?” 

For a split second, the air in the room got stiff. Frank was realizing that you had also been awake for his confession.

“I do, doll. With all I’ve got.” 

Something inside you had begun to crumble. Without missing another beat, you practically jumped out of your seat and went to him. You dove into his outstretched arms and hugged him so hard you were afraid he’d snap in two. His hands came up to hold you even tighter to him.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out.” You told him.

“I’m sorry for leaving.” 

The words were coming out quickly like you both were running out of time to talk. 

“I forgive you. Thank you for coming back.” 

“Thank you for letting me in.” 

You let go slightly to look at him. The soft glow of whatever light outside illuminated his silhouette and the features of his face, “I missed you. So much.”

“I missed you too, doll.”

His hand came up to cup your face. The pad of his thumb making small circles on your face. You could feel your heart threaten to jump out of your chest. Even though he was covered in blood, it was the most safe you had felt in years.

Before you could say anything, Frank leaned forward to kiss you. His lips were soft, and they gently fit into yours. A large wave of warmth enveloped your body.

You kissed back. It felt like the color was finally returning to your black and white world.

When you pulled back, Frank looked at you with soft eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[nihilistic-nik]

Scars

Masterlist

Frank Castle x GN!Reader

tw: talking about scars

You are sitting on Frank's lap, resting together on your shared bed.

There was a calm but also vulnerable atmosphere circling the both of you. It was like only you and Frank were there.

There was no stress and no missions, there was only the two of you bathing in each other's love and warmth.

Frank's head lay in the crook of your neck allowing him to relax his body and rest.

your fingers traced his broad shoulders, his chest and his upper back. His skin was smooth with the added feeling of scar tissue that rises above the rest of skin.

Scars of all shapes and sizes were scattered across his body showing painful journeys he made across his lifetime.

Your hand lingered on one particular scar that lay itself on his chest, it wasn't a visually rough or gruesome looking scar but it reminded you of a time where frank was laying on your couch covered in blood, his shirt somewhere in the room. You crouched over his body cleaning and stitching up his wound.

Frank lifted his head and brought his hand to your cheek gently pulling your gaze from his scar to his dark brown eyes, you leaned into his hand pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “You okay?'' Had he been quieter you don't think you would’ve heard him. You gave a simple nod and wrapped your arms around his neck “love you frank” you rested your head on his shoulder, you could feel his chest vibrating whilst he let out a soft chuckle “love you too”

[castlecult]

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞

pairing : frank castle x gn!reader

warnings : soft!frank, that’s all !!! + not proofread

about : you get frank a birthday cake and reunite a bunch of friends for a little party ( 15th november yall, national holiday idc idc )

gif set here

“you’re gonna love this movie, trust me,” you giggle, walking by his side. you hold frank’s hand and smile softly at him. “i think i’ve heard this before,” he chuckles, shaking his head a bit. “oh c’mon!”

you kick his side with your elbow before grabbing your keys. you hope everything will go smoothly, you have been planning this for weeks now. you open your apartment’s door and before frank could say anything, he’s met by his friends shouting ‘happy birthday!’

he instinctively grabs your arm, you shiver and move closer to him. you take his hand in yours and pull him inside before closing the door. “happy birthday baby,” you kiss his cheek, frank relaxes and glances at the people gathered inside your living room.

curtis, matt, foggy, karen, david.

“well,” frank chuckles, taken aback by the situation. “whose idea was that, anyway?” he clears his throat and walks closer to the table, noticing the cake. “happy birthday… grumpy old man??” he reads aloud. you laugh, followed by the others.

“y/n organised everything, we just helped and came here today,” curtis explains, patting frank’s shoulder. “i appreciate it,” he smiles and silently thanks everyone, glancing at them. “you deserved a little party, after all,” david smiles and you nod.

“alright, everything’s amazing but i really want to eat this cake!” you announce, making foggy chuckle loudly. “it amazes me how they’re so different, mh?” he glances at matt and karen, who nods and smiles. “that’s good for frank.”

you hear them and smile happily, before being kissed by frank. you laugh against his lips and caress his cheeks. “i love you,” you whisper, meeting his eyes. “love you too,” he says, kissing your nose then. “you’re amazing… thank you.”

an : that was super short but uh i’m really struggling with writing rn so yeah, that was it hah (: reblogs & feedback are super appreciated !! if you wanna share your thoughts about frank castle hit my inbox <3

[frankcastlescumslut]

HI BABY, congrats on 300!!! you deserve each and every follow <33

i saw this promt

being carried/tucked into bed, after having fallen asleep on the couch waiting for your partner to come home

and immediately thought of our big softie Frank :,)))

ughhhh im gonna puke he’s such a big baby

pairing: frank castle x gn!reader

warnings: use of “attagirl”, FLUFF, softie babygirl frank, tiny tiny blood

(this is the face i imagine he gives when he finds you asleep bye)

Thumbs drum against the hard exterior of a steering wheel as the time on the dashboard continues to pass by. Two more miles, he reminds himself. Two more miles until he’s back home with you.

This trip was exponentially shorter than his previous ones, only three days, sweetheart, he would reassure you, only easing your pout with an attagirl as you loosened your grip around him, giving him permission to go on his way to who knows where this time.

You had a love/hate relationship with his trips. While you enjoyed the comfortable silence and time to yourself, you hated not knowing if Frank was safe. The burner phone was for serious emergencies only, and although you understood, your nerves never seemed to adjust.

The last mile seemed to be the longest, and Frank was ready to collapse into your arms and get a well deserved good night’s sleep. He could practically hear you now, your sweet Frankie!, to announce his arrival followed by your bear grip of a hug to emphasize how much you missed him.

It was the small moments and gestures that he held close to that kept him going, no matter what was thrown at him.

Which is exactly why he ran to the the door of the apartment and threw it open with an unabashed smile that quickly turned to a frown when your voice did not ring throughout the room.

His heart nearly beat through his chest- he wasn’t expecting the silence or the living room to be completely dark and devoid of life. Matter of fact- the entire apartment seemed to be eerily quiet.

Combat boots thudded against the floor as he approached the room, flicking the light on without care. Better to wake them up in a bad mood than to find em gone, he thought, before his stomach flipped over itself at the empty bed.

The large blankets were gone, along with his pillows, and your clothes piled against the foot of the bed on your side. His bags fell to the floor with a thump, and he was somewhat relieved, knowing you at least had been here recently. He scratched his head, his mind having been clouded by so much excitement turned to panic that he completely overlooked your comfort spot.

He sighed as he strode to the living room and rested against the corner of the hallway as he made sense of his view.

A mountain of blankets hid your entire body, only your cheeks and nose peeking out as you cocooned yourself in the soft fabrics. You looked peaceful, completely surrounded by the comforter and snuggled against Frank’s pillow.

A few minutes passed as he admired his view, failing to hide a smile as he took you in, appreciating the soft and quiet moments that he could truly adore you without your protest. He almost felt guilty that you weren’t in bed, but as fast as his concern came, it dissipated as you hummed in your sleep.

The couch was one of your favorite spots in your home, much to his surprise. So as much as you missed him when he was gone, the couch wasn’t such a downgrade.

He was hesitant to approach you, but he allowed his own selfish needs to prompt him, kneeling quietly in front of you before placing a hand to your warm cheek.

“Frankie?” It was dark as you opened your eyes at the new sensation against your face. You could just make out a wrist and forearm from the sliver of blanket.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles at your scrunched face as he peeled the blankets back, watching you make sense of your surroundings. “Whatcha doin’ under there?”

A hum leaves your lips as you reach for him, “Sleepin,” you say with a yawn. Warmth washes over you as he engulfs you.

“Yeah?” A chaste kiss meets your temple. “Somethin’ wrong with the bed?” You relax under the weight of him as he wraps his arms around your back and nestles into your neck. His knees ache against the hardwood floor, but he ignore the pain.

“Mhm, you weren’t in it.” Darkness surrounds you as your eyes grow heavy with sleep.

“Well let’s change that.” He grunts as he stands, silently thanking his feet for taking the weight off of his knees, and the back of your knees meets the crook of his elbow.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you breathe him in. It will never get old; his returns were the saving grace of his time away, and you lived for these moments. The moments where it was just safe to be with him.

The mattress sinks under your weight as he places you down, quickly meeting your forehead with a kiss. You can’t help the pout that forms against your lips as he parts, heading for the living room to grab the blankets and pillows you left behind.

Your heart picks up speed as he pushes through the doorframe, only his legs and boots visible before dumping the entirety of your bed spread on top of you. The weight of the blankets felt relaxing, and you only threw them away from your face to catch a glimpse of Frank.

He looked beautiful, even in the dark. His face was concentrated, his nose accentuating the curve of his brow, as he aired out the heavy comforter. It fell over you like a sheet of snow, and you welcomed them with ease.

He wasn’t expecting the fluffy pillow to ram into his side, nearly pushing him an inch, and you weren’t prepared for the same pillow to be tossed right back into you, causing your lip to smack against your tooth.

“Ow!” You cup your mouth instantly at the dull pain, the faint metallic taste washing over your tongue as it glides over the split.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he’s in front of you in an instant, you’re not really sure how he made it that fast, and his thumb gently pulls down your lip as he inspects the injury with an intense face. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to- shit. Are you okay?”

It’s not funny, but it’s funny. You’re barely bleeding and the pain has completely subsided, and yet Frank Castle is inspecting the tiniest of wounds that he unintentionally inflicted, as if you were on your last breath.

Which is why you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, and only laughed harder at his confused face.

“Wh-“

“Frank,” you hardly get out. “It’s just a bump, I’m not dying here.” Laughter fills the bedroom, and he can’t help but roll his eyes and hide a playful smirk.

“Shut it.” He finally chuckles, finally changing out of his dirty clothes.

You’re practically in stitches, even as he crawls into bed, and turns his back to you as you continue your laughing fit.

“Oh, come on.” You cuddle up against him, your arm slinking around his waist as your chest presses against his back. “It was funny, admit it.” Your lips touch the muscle surrounding his shoulder blade.

“Yeah, so funny.” He grumbles as he attempts to hide a smirk, but you can see right through him, even if was faced away from you.

“Hilarious, actually.” The warmth radiating off of him soothed you, and you yawned involuntarily as your bed finally felt as it should, though you wished to be in his position.

He hisses as you slide your feet in between his, the temperature difference was unbearable. “Jesus!” The memo was received as he turned in your direction, practically scooping you into him as he adjusted. “Fuckin’ freezin me out! Bout to get you some damn socks.” His teeth dramatically chatter as he buries his face into the warmth of your neck.

You sigh into the familiarity of his touch, turning your head slightly to meet him for a quick kiss.

“‘m glad you’re home,” you mumble through a yawn.

“Me too.”

join my sleepover!

a/n: this was so self indulgent and personal to me thank you for requesting this one mmmwah

[anna-hawk]

Pairing: Frank Castle x GN!Reader Fandom: The Punisher Rating: E 🔞 Word Count: 3637

Summary: You shouldn't have tried Frank's patience.

Warning/Tags: Dom!Frank – Sub!Reader – Established relationship – Brat taming – sex toys – thigh riding – Safe Sane and Consensual – Punishment – Suit kink

A/N: All I'm going to say is that I blame thank @slavic-empress for this. She sent me a very specific picture and my brain broke 😝 Header by @darlingshane, who always knows what I want with just the smallest details 🧡

Read it on AO3

“Okay, we’re here. Now what do you gotta say for yourself?” 

Frank briskly walks into the apartment and sits down on the couch. He lifts a foot to the pillow and observes you intently as you come to stand before him.

You cross your arms under your chest and lift a mocking brow at him. 

“Whatever do you mean?”

“What I mean? Maybe you actin’ like a fuckin’ brat all night ‘n testin’ my patience? Ring a bell?” He growls, tone unimpressed as his dark eyes run over your body. 

You raise your chin defiantly and smirk. 

“What else was I supposed to do when you barely paid any attention to me? I had to entertain myself, right?”

“Oh yeah? So flirting with those men was entertainin’, huh?”

“Well… what really was, was watching you try to keep control while I did it.” 

Frank’s jaw works while his nostrils flare as he tries to fight his irritation. 

“You do remember that we were there for a reason and that I had to make nice with some people.” 

“Oh sure,” you mutter with a displeased twist to your mouth. “For Karen. You’d do anything for Karen, after all.”

Frank sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Please don’t tell me you’re jealous. You know there’s nothin’ between us.”

“I know that. Doesn’t change the fact that you always do whatever she asks, but when I ask something,” you let your voice drop off meaningfully and shrug. 

Frank rolls his eyes at your tone, but chuckles. 

“I see… Tryna get back at me for not fuckin’ you in the restroom like you wanted to?” Frank gets up from the couch and puts his hands in his pants’ pockets as he comes to stand before you. 

You huff as heat runs down your spine and between your legs at the reminder of how much you’d wanted him earlier. Now. You let your eyes trail over him, like you’d done all evening. Karen had invited you and Frank to a charity gala tonight, and you'd both dressed up to the nines for the occasion. And Frank looked – looks – simply incredible. He’s wearing a dark blue pinstripe suit, the thin lines red, and a black and white striped shirt with a dark gray tie. The hair on top of his head is artfully tousled, while his face shows the slightest bit of scruff. You’re used to Frank dressing casually; denims, a Henley, and plaid shirts being his go-to clothes. You love them on him, there’s no denying that. Seeing him wearing this kind of more formal attire, however, the eternal – as sexy as they are on him – combat boots gone to be replaced by a pair of shiny loafers is taking your brain – and other parts – to a different level. How could you resist him? Or resist the temptation to have him ravish you looking like this? You’d sidled up to him after an hour of mingling, whispering into his ear that you wanted to go to your knees and suck him off right there. Frank, who’d been having an animated conversation – argument – with Matt Murdock, had gritted his teeth and gently tried to tell you that now wasn’t the time. You’d rolled your eyes and only absently noticed Matt’s reddening face before you’d found a mutual friend of yours and Karen and talked to her. You’d tried your luck a little later and even gotten Frank to follow you to the restrooms as you’d pretended to want to freshen up a little. Frank hadn’t played into it, only kissing you lingeringly before returning to the main room. That’s when you’d started wildly flirting with every good-looking man present. 

“And you thought you’d be gettin’ away with it? No consequences at all?” 

You shiver at the veiled threat. Desire sparking in your center. One of his hands moves up to cup your chin, tilting it in such a way that you have no choice but to meet his gaze. 

“Think I asked you a question, Sweetheart.” Frank's voice is deceptively calm.

You swallow, your next breath catching in your throat. 

“No, Sir.”

“So you knew that you'd be punished and still acted like that?” He pauses briefly as he leans in until you're practically nose to nose. “Or were you hoping for it?”

“Maybe?” You hedge, as you bite your lower lip, realizing that you have absolutely no idea what Frank's intentions might be. It's turning you on, but you also know that he's going to make sure that you’ve learned your lesson. 

“Maybe,” he repeats without inflection to his tone. He takes a few steps away from you and observes you calmly, his cool gaze assessing. “Strip and wait by the couch.”

You watch Frank exit the living room and consider, for the briefest of moments, to not do as asked… commanded. Your fingers move to your clothes a second later, though, as you try to figure out what Frank’s going to do to you. Once you’re naked, you put your hands behind your back and link the fingers of one hand around the other wrist to stop yourself from fidgeting. Your back straightens when Frank walks into the room again, a bottle of lube in one hand and in the other-

“No,” you gasp, your eyes riveted to the item in Frank’s other hand. “No, Frank, please. Not that.” 

Frank ignores you and places the lube next to him as he sits down on the couch again. 

“Frank,” you repeat, your voice going higher.

He continues to ignore you as he busies himself with the other object, fixing it around his thick thigh. It looks obscene against his impeccable suit. Frank hasn’t even removed his jacket, the buttons still closed, as if he could stand and walk out the door any second. Once he’s done, he leans back against the couch, legs spread and posture utterly relaxed. You worry your lower lip with your teeth as you’re unable to take your eyes away from Frank’s thigh. 

“Fra-”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? To fuck me in that suit?” 

You lick your dry lips and nod before shaking your head with a whimper. 

“I want you. Not… That,” you can’t stop the sulky way the last part comes out. 

“Oh, baby, then maybe you should’ve thought things through before messin’ with me, hm? Brats don’t get to have the real thing.” Frank’s head slightly moves from side to side as he smirks and runs the tip of his tongue over his front teeth. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I – please? You’re so big and hot and that thing isn’t. I wanna feel you so bad,” you plead, taking a step between his legs to kneel in front of him. 

“I know you do. That’s why you’re not gettin’ it. But hey, look, I’m not that mean, I brought the warming lube you love so much.” His smug smirk widens in satisfaction as he watches you realize that he’s found the perfect way to punish you. 

Frank opens the bottle and pours a nice amount onto the thick, black dildo that’s attached to his thigh by a large strap. Fuck, as much as you’ve enjoyed that toy before, you hate it right now. You crave to have Frank inside you, feel him stretch you, and you know that, warm lube or not, the toy won’t feel anything like him. 

“Saddle up, Sweetheart.” 

With one last attempt to sway Frank, you let your hands slide up his thighs, making sure to bypass the toy as you do so, and reach for his crotch. Frank shuts his fingers around your wrists in an unrelenting grip, the pressure tight around your skin. You gasp loudly and snap your eyes to his, shivering at the warning in them. Swallowing hard, you finally rise to your feet and gingerly straddle the thigh with the toy on it. 

“There we go, baby, there we go,” Frank rumbles in satisfaction as he watches you get into position. “Now, show me how you get yourself nice n' ready for me.” He holds out the bottle and lifts an expectant eyebrow at you.

You obediently stick out a hand for him to drizzle some of the lube over your palm. It has a warm fragrance to it. Frank's remark about you loving it had been accurate. You much prefer it when you're using it while you're riding him, though. With a sigh, you spread the thick liquid over your fingers, determined to try to lure Frank into giving in to you by putting on the best show possible for him. 

You sensually slide your hand down your body, leaving a faint trail of warmth at the touch of the lube on your skin, then dip between your legs, your eyes never leaving Frank's as you do so. One of Frank's arms is spread over the back of the couch, while the other one is bent to allow his fingers to rest against his lips as he observes you, expression unreadable to your great frustration. No matter, you rub two fingers against yourself, a sigh of pleasure escaping you. 

“Imagine, this could be you,” you moan as you slip a finger inside you, followed by a second one soon after. “You'd fill me so good, make me scream… Isn't that what you love most, Frank? Make me scream. Fuck me so hard and good that my throat is sore when you're done with me.”

Frank's hard now, that much is clear from how his dick is pushing against the tight material of his dress pants. You also know that Frank can hold out forever, meaning that as long as he hasn't acted, nothing's won for you. 

Frank chuckles, a deep and amused laugh. He shakes his head and smirks. 

“I dunno if I should let you continue to try to get me to fuck you, or if I should tell you to save it, cause it's not gonna happen.”

You groan, in despair this time, and rub over your flesh, right where you need it the most, to compensate for the lack of his touch. 

“None of that.” Frank swats away your wandering hand. “Only said to get yourself ready, nothin’ else.” 

“Fuck you,” you bite out before you’re able to catch yourself, and stare at Frank with wide eyes once the words have left your mouth. 

His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. 

“Don’t try me again, Sweetheart. Think you did enough for tonight.”

You nod quickly, and Frank relaxes again. 

“Now, show me how good you can ride my thigh.” 

Moving over the toy, you slowly sink onto it, biting your lower lip as you whimper when it breaches you. 

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s it,” Frank croons as he watches you like a hawk. 

Once you’re fully seated, you slowly circle your hips to get used to the toy and gasp at the warm feeling procured by the lube and how the dildo rubs inside you. You’d have hoped to at least have Frank’s hands on you once the toy's inside you, but he strategically keeps them on the back of the couch, nothing but his legs touching you. You begin moving up and down, sighing at the drag of the toy against your walls. It's not Frank's cock, but it still feels good to be filled. Frank hums contentedly as you push up and down, your ass bouncing against his covered thigh, while the lube makes a squelching sound each time you lower yourself completely. 

Your hands remain on your thighs as you work yourself on the toy, your fingers twitching as you moan. You want more, though. You need to feel Frank under your hands and reach out for his shoulders. Frank won't let you, however. He catches your wrists and holds them together in front of you in one of his large palms when you try to touch him. Understanding his refusal, you try to pull your hands back, but Frank doesn't let you do that either. He cocks his head at you with a tiny smirk, his other arm still on the couch. You resume your movements, your balance slightly off now that Frank's holding your hands out before you, forcing your thighs to work harder. Panting in effort, you stare at Frank with glassy eyes, setting out to give him what he wants; what you need. His other hand finally leaves the couch and comes to rest on your hip, gripping your skin there. You shiver at his burning touch and cry out sharply when you raise your hips, only for him to suddenly use his grip on you to make you slam down on the dildo. He guides you wordlessly, eyes burning into yours and traveling over your body with unbridled lust. Ecstatic to finally see more than a halfway neutral expression, you let Frank do as he pleases. It isn't a hardship anyway, having his hands on you is firing up your senses. 

“Keep going,” Frank growls before he lets go of your hip to lift that hand and use it to tweak one of your nipples. The pleasurable pain shoots through you like a lightning bolt, making you cry out at the same time your back bows inwards. 

To your surprise, Frank doesn't leave the sweet torture at that and leans in to capture your other nipple with his mouth. The sharpness of his teeth makes itself known as he tugs on your nipple with them, before he harshly sucks on the abused flesh. He only does that for a short amount of time since he still has a hold on your wrists, and his closeness stops you from really moving your hips. Instead, he leans back again and watches you intently. A moment later, he brings two fingers down on a nipple. Hard. You jerk and scream at the sharp sting, your hips falling off their rhythm. 

“Please touch me, Frank. I can't come like this,” you cry, the attack in your skin and senses driving you wild but leaving you unable to come anyway. 

“Then you better work harder, baby, cause I ain't helpin' ya.”

You wail in despair and frustration, hanging your head as you work your legs faster, grind down harder. You lean forward to get the toy to rub where you need it most, but shit, it's just not enough. 

“Please, Frank. I need you… something, just-”

“Know you can do it, Sweetheart. Work that gorgeous body like when you're riding my dick. Always takin' me down to the hilt, like you're fuckin' made for me.”

“Cause I am. I'm yours. Only yours, Frank,” you babble as you bounce faster on top of him.

“Tha's right. Fuckin' mine. Mine to watch and see you gettin' off on my thigh. No one else gets to see you like that.” Frank highlights those words with a resounding smack to your ass, the sound sharp compared to your delirious moans, the gesture making the toy jiggle inside you.

“Oh fuck, yes!” Your legs begin to shake with the effort to keep going, but it's finally here, the tingling sensation of your orgasm.

“Look at me,” Frank orders, making you realize that you had closed your eyes at some point, and open them again. “You're comin' for me, don't you forget that. Your pleasure's mine and I wanna see all of it.”

You can only nod, wide-eyed, as you barrel over the edge at his words. You're his. Only his. Like he is yours. A keen of utter bliss leaves your mouth as you convulse on top of him, your burning legs giving out at last, and making you fully sink onto the toy while your hips keep spasming. Only Frank's hand on your wrists keeps you from falling into him. You gasp and pant, noticing that your release and the lube are drenching his clothes as you look down. Embarrassment and satisfaction mingle at the sight.

“You did good, Sweetheart, so good.” Frank stares at you with hunger. 

Your face forms a small, proud smile. Frank lets go of your hands, and you feel him unbuckling the strap of the dildo. You gingerly lift your hips and slip off his thigh to end on your knees before Frank. From this close, you can see the stains on Frank's clothes even better. Still in a haze, you watch Frank fully take off the dildo from his thigh and look at it before his eyes fall on you again. 

“Open up,” he tells you, his voice raspy but steady. 

You eye the toy, shiny from a mix of lube and yourself, and do as told, your mouth opening wide. Frank hums in satisfaction and pushes the toy between your lips. You groan at the taste and fight to close your eyes, intent to catch each of Frank’s expressions. A new wave of excitement runs through you as you see him finally opening his pants and taking himself out. He slowly strokes his cock and smirks when you whimper with need. He takes the toy out of your mouth and tosses it to the side carelessly. You lick your lips in anticipation as Frank stands, already shuffling on your knees to get in the best position. Frank huffs out a small laugh. 

“You really think you gonna get to have my dick tonight?”

Your gaze quickly goes to his as understanding hits you. 

“But… I did good, you said.”

“And you did, Sweetheart. Real good. But what kinda punishment would it be if I gave you what you want? You can count yourself lucky that I allowed you to come, don’t you think?” 

You suck in your lower lip as you listen, and nod. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you whisper. 

Frank hums, pleased, and strokes a thumb over your lips. 

“So good for me now, Baby.” 

He pushes your lip down, and you automatically open your mouth enough for Frank to slip his thumb inside and press onto your tongue. You groan and suck on the digit, your eyes going to what his other hand is doing; reaching down on the couch for the lube. He uncaps the bottle and pours a large dollop onto the length of his cock. He snaps it shut and chucks the bottle back to the couch. Since he’s standing right before you, his cock is just there in front of you. Frank groans as he coats his full length with the gel, seemingly enjoying the warmth of it like you had. 

“Hands on your thighs,” Frank rumbles, his nostrils flaring with lust.

Doing as told, you feel his thumb vanish from your mouth, only to be replaced by his index and middle finger, both of them slipping over your tongue. You moan as you understand what he wants and begin sucking enthusiastically. Frank grunts and fists himself harder while he finger-fucks your mouth with quick movements. You can’t get enough of watching him like that, standing still fully dressed in that neat suit, and wildly stroking his gorgeous, rock-hard cock. You don’t hesitate to accommodate the third finger that Frank pushes against your lips, opening your mouth wider and feeling your drool running over the sides of your chin. Frank curses loudly as he makes you choke after he's gone for the back of your throat. You keep going, sucking and moaning wantonly around his fingers, wanting to see him come so badly. It doesn’t take him long after that, and you sigh and whimper in satisfaction as he comes in thick spurts all over your chest. 

He pants loudly as he watches you through heavily lidded eyes and gently pulls out his fingers. Your jaw is slightly sore since his fingers are on the thicker side, but you welcome the burn gladly, pleased that you helped get him off despite not touching him at all. Frank cups your chin and wipes at the trails of spit on it with a small grin. After he's put himself back into his pants and closed them, Frank bends down while simultaneously tilting your head up with two fingers under your chin. He kisses you slowly, almost chastely, before he straightens. 

“Come on, Sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up.” Frank takes you by an elbow and helps you stand. Which you are glad for, as you realize just how wobbly your legs still are. 

You don't miss the smug smile on Frank's face, but only roll your eyes good-naturedly. You can tell that the scene is over, since Frank only chuckles at your reaction and kisses your temple as he pulls you against his side. 

He leads you to the bathroom and turns on the shower before turning towards you again. You watch him silently as he finally takes off the suit, mindful of putting each article of clothing back on their respective hangers. 

“I don't know if I'm happy or disappointed to see it gone,” you muse, once Frank's fully naked before you and you let your eyes trail over him. 

Frank laughs but doesn't comment, choosing to tug you into the shower with him. You sigh happily as he washes your hair and body, and embraces you while kissing you slowly. 

“Make sure to tell Karen that we'll be there for any other of those galas or whatnot things,” you intone as you're lying in bed with your head on Frank's chest some thirty minutes later. 

“Are you tellin' me that you didn't learn your lesson tonight?” Frank questions after a beat of silence, voice carefully neutral again. 

You smile to yourself.

“What can I say? Sometimes I need a little reminder for things to sink in completely.”

“Fuckin’ brat,” Frank growls before he wrestles you to your back and kisses away your laugh, his lips pulled up as well. 

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Hey um i just wanted to say that i really like your blog.

Would it be okay to ask about a frank castle image while he takes care of gn!reader?

Thank you have a lovely day (it night!) :)

Dependable Man

A/N: Short little drabble, hope it was okay!

Pairings/Characters: Frank Castle x GN!Reader

Warnings: talk about poor mental health/ not eating

Summary: After a night out ‘working,’ Frank comes home to see you need a little TLC

When Frank returned to your shared home, he was careful to make as little noise as possible, something that was barely unmanageable given how clunky his combat boots were. 

He’d come back in the middle of the night, saw all the lights off, and had assumed you were asleep. However, when he was passing through the living room and saw your form facedown on the couch, lazily scrolling through your phone, he cringed to himself as he set his bag down and walked behind the sofa to gaze down at you, “I wake you up, short stack?”

You groaned, “Can’t sleep.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Brain stuff, big sad, no reason,” you muttered. “How was killing?”

He snorted at you, “Fine. You eat?”

“What time is it?”

“Three in the morning.”

You paused for a moment, “I cannot remember when I last ate, then.”

Frank nodded. He muttered that he’d be back in a few minutes to join you. You told him that it was okay, for him to just clean up and get some rest, but he didn’t listen to you. 

He made his cleanup as thorough and quick as possible so as not to get any of his extracurricular activities on you. After cleaning up, he went to make sure you were still awake and walked over to the kitchen. He flicked on the dim lights of the kitchen, grabbed his dirty apron and tied it around his waist before going to work.

With what was in the kitchen, Frank was able to make a a quick fix of a meal that he knew you’d enjoy. Grabbing water, he brought it over to the sofa and set it down on your thrifted coffee table. He grabbed your shoulders, muttering it was time to eat as he helped you to sit up and lean back before setting the tray on your lap.

“Come on, short stack. Ya gotta eat up, then we can relax, all right?” He said as he took the phone from you and set it on the table. “something happen today?”

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. Just one of those days, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I get it,” He muttered and leaned over to kiss your temple before slinging his arm around you and pulling you close. “What else you do today? I know it wasn’t shower,” he joked as he sniffed your hair.

You scoffed and smacked his chest a tiny smile tugging at your lips, “Hey!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Frank grinned as he nuzzled you, “But it got a little smile on your face, didn’t it?”

You pouted, “I can’t confirm or deny.”

“Uh-huh,” Frank hummed. “You wanna talk about anything?”

You shook your head, “Not really.”

He nodded, “Okay. I’ll still be here, then. Eat up, talk or don’t. I got you,” he said quietly, hand resting on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze before it slid down your arm and held you. You turned, smiling at Frank before leaving a kiss on his jaw and attacking the food he had made for you.

That was Frank Castle. He’d break bones, snap necks, kill ruthless people, but he’d always come home to you. No matter what happened, you were his priority, and he’d always take care of you. Whether that meant shoving food down your throat and handing you water when you weren’t taking care of yourself on a bad day, or rushing you to a hospital when your fever reached 103 degrees, Frank Castle was a dependable man, your man, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[annoyingnerdsposts]

Frank Castle x Runaway reader

Holy fuck I’m back. whats up i have more shit to write and am currently re watching the Punisher because why not and yeah

IMPORTANT INFO:

The reader ran away from the mob and frank found them on the streets and was like “this anyone's kid?” and didn’t wait for a response. latter reader is scared that they are coming for the reader and there scared that they might try to hurt frank. Hes not having it. 

Warnings: mob shit/mentions of dead family/ a little angst

It was New York dude. Everyone knew what the mob was. the thing is almost every New Yorker will tell you that they’ve never had an encounter with the mob. Your not every New Yorker. Wilson Fisk found you when you were a kid back on the streets. you were cold and hungry and he took advantage of you and used you to fulfil his needs. 

He needed a body gaurd or some from of protection.

you did it.

He needed information?

you got it.

he wanted someone dead?

Done.

By the time you were 15 you had almost 50 dead men under your belt. All because of Fisk. That monster cheated you out of your childhood. So when Fisk was about to go to jail you left. But before you did you wanted him to know how much you hatted him by testifying agonist him in court. You left the mob bis but not the city. The bastard didn’t pay you enough for a bus ticket. and you loved the city, it’s your home. And he wasn’t going to ruin that for you. After he was in jail you were on the streets. Right back to where you started when you meet someone.

He was tall and had a marine haircut. It was Frank. One look at you and the man took pity. He keep seeing Lisa in you. Knowing she would be around your age. How can someone so young go through so much? You hadn’t showered in weeks and your hair was a mess. Your clothes smelt of body odour and you had dark raccoon like bang forming around your eyes. Yup Frank taking you home.

It took a lot of convincing thought but eventually you began to trust him. and he trusted you. It didn’t take long for him to learn who you are. after all, barley 15 and 50 murders under your belt?

This was all months ago.

Currently you were under a blanket watching the new on the TV while frank made the both of you tea. That was when you saw a face you thought you’d never see again. Fisk.

You froze and continued watching. “Today in hell’s kitchen, Wilson Fisk a notorious con artist and mob boss broke out of prison along with his 2 other partners. Police have closed all ways in and out of the city: streets, highways, along with planes being grounded to insure that he is taken into custody as soon as possible.”

You were so fixed on the TV that you didn’t notice Frank had already sat down beside you with both cups of tea in hand. Do you think he would come after you? I mean he would be pissed because you snitched but would he? would he try to hurt you? or worse. Frank? You squeezed your eyes tightly, as to get those thought out of your head but they were still there. Frank must have seen you do that and know what you were thinking. He put is arms around you shoulders and rubbed circles with his thumb on your shoulder. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.  

After you finished drinking you tea you left to your room and went to bed. or no. You tried to go to bed. You couldn’t sleep. Thoughts still racing in your head. You couldn’t wait anymore. You needed to leave now and fast. You cant have him finding you and hurting frank. You grabbed your old duffel bag and threw your clothes into it: along with some food, water bottles, and phone. You were about to finish when frank walked in.

Did he here you?

“you cant come with me” you said. you could feel the tears behind your eye burn.

“The hell I can’t, what are you doing?” 

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing? Did the open drawers and duffel bag not give you enough clues?” you said angerly. 

Frank looked at you in the eyes the time “you don’t need to run,I’ll keep you safe.” You don’t know why but this pissed you off.

“You don’t know Fisk like I do!! He will come for me and everyone I care about including you!” you screamed “Frank please...I’ve already lost one family, I can’t lose you too” Frank gave you a look. You forgot that he lost a family too. At this point you were crying and you couldn’t stop.” Hey” he said firmly walking up to you. He engulfed you into a hug and let you cry into his shoulder. After a minute he looked at you and said

 “Hey, Hey look at me.” He was cupping your face now and forcing you to look at him. he was wiping away your tears with his thumb “Look at me. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you do you understand me. Never ever. I’ve lost so much and I sure as hell don’t plan on losing you. Got it?” He looked like he was about to cry to. He kissed the top of your head and then your forehead and stayed there hugging you. Your his kid. If Fisk or anyone else thinks of laying a hand on you. He’ll be there to protect you.

sorry if this was short its 10:30 and 

im tired

im also not re reading this so there are spelling mistakes

[yourloverfromthepast]

Natasha: If you could describe your boyfriend in ONE word, what would that be?

Y/N: Yells.

Natasha: Excuse me?

Meanwhile, Frank in the middle of a brawl in a bar: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

[lights-on-the-ridge]

Of Course

Frank Castle x gn!reader

Sum: in which Frank finds himself in need of help, so you tend to his wounds.

Warnings: blood, stitches, sweet sweet longing

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Holy shit Frank"

The warm rag gently brushed against the swollen skin of his brow. Your free hand cupping the bloodied cheek of the man sitting before you. He looked like he had been beaten to hell, lip split, nose probably broken to some degree, eyes bloodshot. The small grunts that escaped him as he hobbled through your backyard had been enough to let you know just how much pain he was in, but seeing his battered face so close was far more reassurance than you had wanted.

"What the hell happened" your eyes moving over the scape of his features.

"Nothin'" he whispered against your hand, hissing as the cloth touched the open wound.

"Bullshit Frank, you cant keep doing this"

"Doin' what?"

"This-" you hands pulling away from his face. "- getting in over your head, Its going to get you killed— and i cant exactly patch that mistake up." You gritted.

You could feel his gentle hand fiddling with the hem of your hoodie in response. His silence stretching a few moments before muttering a quiet apology.

This hadnt been the first time he had stumbled his way into your home, especially at such an early hour. This odd routine had started a few months ago when you had found him passed out, beaten nearly to death in an alley on your way home from work. He begged you to leave him be, not get yourself involved, but you couldn't bring yourself to let him suffer. So you led him to your home. After patching up a bullet wound and countless lacerations he crashed on your couch. You told him that if he was ever in need ever again, you were there waiting to help. He brushed the offer off initially, warning you that he was not someone you wanted to be associated with let alone help.

Although, on nights like these Frank always found his unsteady feet leading him to your doorstep- or back yard in this case. This yearning for your touch had been something he had tried to ignore for months now. It was wrong of him to feel this way. You had been a helping hand, someone just trying to be stubbornly nice, he shouldn't be taking advantage of that. Yet he always came, always found himself sitting under your warm touch, beaten and bloodied. Frank was terrified of how you made him feel. He felt as though he was putting you in danger by just being in your presence.

"Y'know doll, you dont need to help me" Frank's voice was hoarse, but assertive.

"If i dont who will" you said with a laugh "i dont do this because i feel obligated, i care about you Frank" you said wiping the last of the dried blood from his forehead.

"Thanks" he said quietly, his hand resting on your hip.

"Of course, now im gonna have to have ask you to take your shirt off buddy" you said, eyes settling on a small torn and bloodied section of his undershirt. You assumed he had been stabbed or sliced, it didn't look too bad but you still needed to find out just how bad it was. God knows Frank wasnt going to admit how badly he was hurt.

Frank answered with a humored huff and retracted his hand from your hip, taking his own shirt into his hand. You watched as he got on arm though and began struggling to get the other out. The winces and grunts he let out as he tried to get the shirt off made you feel horrible. Without a thought your hand found the edge of the shirt, the other hand resting on his arm. As his eyes met yours you could see a flash of embarrassment, "let me help" you said in an almost whisper. His eyes falling from yours to settle somewhere behind you, you began pulling the shirt up his torso. Lifting the neck over his head and pulling the sleeve down his arm. He let out a relieved sigh in response. Tossing the shirt on the table behind him you quickly crouched in front of him, a quiet gasp leaving him as your finger tips brushed against the skin of his abdomen.

"Oh- im sorry" you stuttered fearing you had hurt him.

"No its alright, just wasnt prepared" he said with a smile.

"Looks pretty shallow, I'll put one or two stitches in just for good measure.

A small grunt above your now crouched body was accompanied by the quick unzipping of the med kit. Your diligent hands gently resting on his stomach gave him a sort of relief, an ease he hadn't known he was searching for. He watched you as you threaded the needle with care. Craning his neck in an attempt to see your concentrated gaze at his gut.

"Alright, you ready?" You asked gazing up towards his shadowed face.

"As I'll ever be" a small smile creeping onto his full lips.

The sight of you between his thighs, carefully and gently tending to his wounds nearly sent him into a spiral. A tight and warm bloom erupting in his chest for the first time in years. Hes frame tensed under your hands, quickly soothing the muscles with your light warm touch. The pain had since faded while peering down at the crown of your head. That all to familiar warmth began spreading to his neck and shoulders as you methodically tied off the suture. He was terrified.

The sudden heat of attachment beginning to fester in his chest was something he promised himself years ago to fully abandon. And until recently, he had. It was only until he found his way back to your apartment that he began to worry. Your figure had occupied his mind for days after your first meeting. Consuming the place where loneliness once heavily sat. That weight slowly melted away with each bruised and bloodied walk to your door. And with each tender caress of your fingers he found himself lighter.

"And..were done" you said with a smile, returning your eyes to a now unreadable man. "You alright Frank?" Worry blossoming in your gut.

"Im alright, just.. thank you" he said quietly, almost struggling.

You rose your your feet, Frank's gaze still fixated on your face. Sitting the supplies to the side and wiping your bloody hands on the equally bloodied towel, his hands returning to your hips.

"Its not nice to stare, Frank" you said weakly, your nerves buzzing from his lingering gaze.

"Sorry" he whispered, almost sad.

He looked exhausted. A sad and lonely flush covered his bruised face. It hurt seeing him like this. From the moment you saw him you had became attached. The odd need to help him and comfort him came so naturally to you. You couldn't let him feel this horrible. This lonely. So, in one slow movement, you snaked your hands to cradle his neck. Carefully leaning his head against your warm belly. His dark short hair meeting the soft fabric of the night shirt. Instinctively gently running your fingers through the disheveled tufts. Judging by the relieved sigh that escaped his tense body, it had to have been years since he had been held. Touched so gently and with such care.

"Thank you" he murmurd into your shirt, his hot breath seeping into your soft skin.

"Of course, Frank"

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Suck it ||

Frank Castle x gn!reader

Just a little drabble I'm giving its own post 😊

Frank's knuckles were pale from the grip he had on his rifle. Every time he glanced over at you, similarly perched, poised and ready to snipe just a few meters along the rooftop edge from where he was, he regretted it. Yet he couldn't stop.

You were sucking on a lollipop, the cherry flavoured candy scent occasionally wafting towards him. It was doing things to him. Whenever he looked at you his pants felt like they were two sizes too tight.

The first time, you were running it around your lips, staining them with the darker red just like a lipstick. The second, you were lapping with your tongue extended and curling around it. The third, your cheeks were hollowed out as you sucked hard. The fourth… the stick was poking out the side of your mouth as you stared right back at him.

"What?" you asked, unphased, sucking on the lolli again, pulling it out from your pouted lips with a satisfying pop. Frank remained silent, still watching you.

"You gonna focus on the job we gotta do?" he finally grumbled.

"Oh I'm focused, seems like you're the one that's having a problem focussing, Frank." You ran the candy over your stuck-out tongue again, watching him awkwardly shift his position and gaze back to where your target was due to appear at any moment.

"Shit, shit… he's there!" Frank scrabbles to aim but hears the soft sound from your silencer before he can act.

Your smile is smug as you dismantle your rifle, bag it and sling it over your shoulder, strutting across to where he's slumped against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"C'mon Castle, don't be sour." you tease, holding out your lollipop towards him, "I'll give you a taste?"

Frank tags: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchens-whore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @briefcasejuice @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs

@father4giveme @stress--relief @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine

[devils-dares]

i’m a sucker for sunshine reader and frank bye😫 i need more

this is not-so-secretly my favorite version of frank to write. here's some slice of life headcanons!

frank definitely gives you too much leeway with how everything goes. he comes home to a different apartment entirely as far as interior goes everytime he leaves.

you stay good on your promise to bedazzle one of his guns, he comes home to find a silver and black bedazzled gun with a smiley skull on the handle

he learns how to enjoy the simple things again. taking you to the park, to fairs and dates, he loves showing you off.

more on you, his photo album is filled with pictures of you in the brightest outfits and the biggest smiles. sometimes when he's away and life gets too tough, he comes back to those pictures and even calls you just to hear your voice.

he thinks you're the most magical thing ever. he swears to you that when you patch him up, he heals faster, but you tell him that he just likes it when your hands are on him. he laughs and nods, pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses.

you collect shot glasses from everywhere you go, so he's come home from trips with little glasses wrapped in protective layers. he came home in the middle of the night one time and handed you a shot glass that read 'welcome to paradise!' with palm trees on it before he passed out, slumped at your feet.

he'll never say, but he can't say no to you. no matter how ridiculous your request is, he'll let you do it. you wanted to learn how to wax your eyebrows to save money, so you asked to practice on him. the next time he visited curtis he was laughed at for about fifteen minutes, you'd taken off half his left eyebrow.

oftentimes, you ask him to help rearrange things when he's home or grab things from high places. you then make a stupid joke like "if only the punisher's enemies could see him now." he laughs and kisses you on the cheek.

[alidafirtup]

stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run (frank castle)

▪️pairing: frank castle & castle!gn!reader –but more leaning to male reader really–dad!frank all the way man

▪️word count: longer than i thought this would turn out to be um,

▪️summary: reader is frank's oldest child. aged around 18-19ish just fresh outta highschool. reader thought frank's actually dead after the boat explosion in daredevil season two until they were taken by some bad guys and frank has to come get them

▪️warnings: angstttttt, violence, mentions of death, reader having The Big Sad™️, reader pointing a gun at frank, swear words, just overal angry, angry reader. bit ooc on frank probably idk man this is just brain vomit. notice the writing style jumping around and shit heh. this is my first time actually writing a full one shot story instead of my usual blurbs and ideas, be gentle bc i will cry. english is like, my 3rd language so mistakes and warnings i forgot to mention would be 100% my fault and please be careful

[gifs r mine, sorry they're ass lmaoo]

Having your father being who he was you should've know this day will come. Well, to be fair you're a bit surprised this didn't happen when you sat on the podium of the courtroom in the Frank Castle vs. The People of New York case trial. Everybody knows your name and face now because of what he did. And sooner or later will come men demand you to pay for what your father has done. A vicious never ending cycle of 'Eye for an eye' situation. Alas, you were too busy living inside your head to think about this moment.

It's no one's fault but those who pulled the trigger, really. You are only alive because you weren't there the day the massacre happened. Some stupid school thing you didn't even remember how important it was that you chose to go there instead of spending time going to the park with your family. It was also the day after your dad came home after being away serving for so long. Your mom thought it would be wonderful to go out on a picnic, it was a beautiful day outside too. Hell, even Uncle Billy was there. All you remember was the moment the school staff called you to the office to tell you what happened.

You were never even that close with your father to begin with, what with his time with the army and all. You didn't even know the man that well really, he was away all the time and when he's home his soul isn't home at all. They say war changes people. And he got that thousand yards stare people always joke around about. He never even bothered to make a small talk. It's like he'd rather to be in war than to be home with you. But then again Frank wasn't the man with many words anyway. All you know was that your dad proposed to your mom the next day he found out your mom was pregnant with you. That change little by little when your parents decided to have Lisa and Junior though, he started to come home more often than he used to. He also warmed up more and actually tried to talk to you here and there. Asking you how school was, which you always answer with a quiet "It's fine," or, "It's great." and the conversation dies there, et cetera, et cetera. You didn't really feel the need to talk or get to know him so you just... didn't bother either. You were fine with him being away, it's what you got for having a marine as a dad anyway.

Your baby siblings were different though, with them being a lot younger than you. They're always so excited. Every single time your dad's home it's like it's Christmas. Every single time. Their smiles and cheers light up the whole room like that evening star in the Princess and The Frog movie. You dad was like that evening star for them, they told you so one day.

"That's weird. The star's name is Evangeline. Does he look like an Evangeline to you? also it sounds like he's dead the way you two look at the stars while thinking about dad," you made a face at Lisa as she played with one of the many plastic dinosours she owned.

"Never say that again." Your mom sternly said as she puts down a plate of cookies on the floor. She had this look in her eyes that had you shut your mouth immediately.

Not a day, not a second that you're not thinking about your siblings. They were so young, too young. It's not fair. The world is so cruel, cold and so cruel. Oftentimes your twisted, selfish side wish you were there at the park with them just so it could spare you the pain. Everything happened too fast, you lost everything you had in just one day. Your family, your innocence, your future, your hope, everything just, gone, that day. Vanish. Poof. You might as well just lose your dad too with the way he was hanging on a thread the moment he woke up from his coma. You didn't even recognize the man anymore, he was just so... out of it. Memory fading in and out you had to help him fill in on what happened. But somehow he recognized you, even called you by your name. You didn't know if you should feel relieved by that or worried since the guy never really refer to you as anything other than "Kid" or "Buddy", in fact you didn't really know what to feel at those times what with every single feelings known being thrown at you like bricks. You visited him every day he was at the hospital nevertheless.

Every other day you would go to the park as well. You would sit on one of the benches in front of the carousel and just, think about everything that happened to you. Taking the time to feel sorry for yourself because shit, you were just a kid too. One night you lost track of time and actually sat until dawn. You didn't realize until the warmth of the sun hit your nose and you hear birds chirp their morning sonnet. You marvelled the way the sunlight hit the tip of the the carousel roof and all the painted ponies just right.

Only when your father decided to go on his killing spree quest did you really lost every thing then. Gunning down every single one who so much as sniffed on the idea of the carousel massacre. You see Frank as a complete stranger now. You were also too caught up in grief to call him out about how wrong his doings were. He's a marine, killing people is his job. Doesn't matter that the only difference is that the army is legal. You didn't care about that, those bastards deserves it anyway. They have to pay, every single one of them for taking your mom from you. She didn't even got the time to guide you through your life for fuck's sake.

Frank pulled himself away too, choosing to live in his van and away from you. You realize that it's not safe to live in your old home too so you moved in to a studio apartment which every now and then–as in, every few months– Frank would visit all bloody and battered when he got wounds that he can't fix himself and needed someone to do it for him. Like the one time he got shot in the ass and couldn't take the bullet out by himself.

"Dad, I don't know what I'm doing," you anxiously told him, one hand holding a pair of forceps.

"Look just take the goddamn bullet out and close the wound, alright," he gruffly demanded, leaning over the sink ass out and everything. Quite a night if you think so yourself.

And some nights are better than the other, sometimes worse, sometimes Frank would strut into your place barely alive, swaying left and right dripping blood everywhere that you had to call Uncle Curt as if he's your personal doctor. Well, he basically is now isn't he whether he likes it or not. Poor guy just needs his rest.

You also remember one night Frank showed up to your apartment with almost to no scratch on his skin at all, bringing some McD's and quipped "Y'should put some meat in those skinny arms of yours, kid." which you return with a pair of confused eyes and a snort.

Some days you wish these kinda nights would bring the two of you closer, you wish Frank would just sit down, just for a moment with you. Process what happened. To grieve for your family, or just think about them rather than their deaths tearing the two of you apart. You're all each other's got left afterall.

One fateful night Frank came over, face black and blue but he stood tall. Announcing you about the guy called "The Blacksmith" saying he's going after him, putting an end to this. You never know about the boat, you never asked. You don't think you want to know anything about what Frank has been doing every night.

The next morning you woke up with a "FRANK CASTLE DEAD: Escaped Vigilante Suspected Dead After Explosion" written in giant letters and a picture of an x-ray scan of a skull, Frank's skull. You never went out of bed the next 36 hours after you read the paper. You didn't even cry you just felt so...hollow. You never now how emptiness could ever feel so heavy.

Everything was going so fast sometimes you feel like you're in a timelapse documentation of your own life with you being the only one moving in slow motion. The trial, The Daredevil, your dad going to jail, your dad going out of jail, Wilson Fisk. Only time when time seems to slow down was when you're at the park in the middle of the night. And that's where you are right now.

You were sitting in front of the carousel when you feel something prick at the back of your neck. Your hand went up to touch your neck and you pull out some kind of...dart?

"That's not fair..." you feel yourself sway forward but before you fall on your face they were two men grabbing you and the last thing you see were them pulling you into a van.

You wake up to some guy pushing something up your nose that got you inhale sharply and coughing from the smell. You're strapped to a chair, wrists and ankles, great. Your eyes dart around the dim litted damp cold room, some kind of basement, you feel. "How original," you irked.

"We awake?" a guy goes to grab your chin, "Hi there," he chirps, you look him straight in the eye.

"Is this the part where I ask you who you are and what you want from me?" you challenge lazily.

"No," he honest to God giggled, "This is the part where I punch you in the face." he hissed as he does what he said. His knuckles meets your temple which soon is going to give you a not-so-aesthetic black eye. Sissy bitch. "Now you can ask me who am I and what I want from you– actually no why don't I save us both the time and energy, you pick one kid; who am I or what do I want from you."

But before you can even think of answering he says again, "Good choice!" his voice actually turn from annoying to aggravating. He should really pick a struggle. "I want your dad." Okay. You've had just about enough of his bullshit.

You actually let out a chuckle though, you can't lie that that was not a good joke, "Why don't you go suck my dick since you got me all tied up and unmoving you kinky piece of–" he awarded you with another punch to the nose this time, got it running blood from one nostril almost immediately, God, no wonder those soccer kids in your school says you're a nerd. Thank Christ school's over for good.

"That's homophobic." you breathe. "You know if you want my Da so much why don't you dug him up yourself? Mount Zion Cemetery, 6 feet under the ground where he lays. He's fucking dead you imbecilic bitch,"

The guy stares you down. You wonder what'll happen if you ask for his name since you're getting tired of calling him "This Guy" in your head. He calls for his men and gestures towards you with his chin.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "What's with you men and beating people up in groups to get the information you need? God, if that's not small dick energy i don't know what–" your words were left unfinished as a slap lands on your face.

"You wanna be as tough as your old man you're gonna wanna shut that hole in the middle of your face." he growled.

"Look," you heave after a shit ton of beatings later, you hate that you almost beg now, "I'm trying to tell you scumbags you've got the wrong kid, alright? My 'old man', he's dead."

"See, I thought that too. but he keeps coming back, you know, like a cockroach, but with guns."

You scoffed, panting slightly. One of your nostrils is clogged, thick blood running slowly down the other. God, does your sinuses burn.

"You watch the news lately kid?"

You spit, seeing droplets of crimson, chest expanded as you take a deep breath. "'Fuck you mean,"

Once again your words were just a trail off and apparently this guy's not the one to let people finish their sentences. He shoves a phone into your face, the screen showing a dashcam footage of man running into the hood of a car who happens to be...Frank. That's Frank. That's your dad in the footage. You feel your heart starts beating really fast. Okay...maybe this guy slaps you a bit too hard. Then again you wouldn't be here strapped to a chair getting beat to a pulp if the video isn't real.

◼◼◼

"How long you're going to do this again?"

"Curt." Frank warns.

"I can't lie anymore to the kid Frank do you know how many times I have to–"

"It's better this way you hear me? I can't lose the kid."

"Yeah, speaking of the kid–" Micro chimed in, interrupting what was soon to be a heated argument between the ex-soldiers. His eyes scan one of the many screen in the basement. The one that's set to the camera Frank sneaked into your room in one of his visits.

"Kid's should be home by now right?"

◼◼◼

You're woken up again by a hand harshly wiping the blood that drips out of your mouth with a towel. You received another dozens of beating after your reaction from watching the footage resulting in you passing out after a good punch to the nose. Damn, apparently it's a sin for not knowing what the hell is going on. You blink your eyes open almost lazily and catch a glimpse of a gun sitting nicely on the back pocket of your taker. You eye it for a moment before he cooes, "Oh, you want this? it's not gonna help you sweet cheeks," he said as he put his hand on the pistol briefly.

Suddenly you hear guns blazing outside of the room, you hear the alarmed almost scared tone in your taker's voice. "He's here," before he hurries to take a knife from his sleeve to cut off the ties that bound you to the chair, pulls you out of your feet and wraps his arm around your throat while his other arm went around his back to grab his gun and point it to your temple.

Frank kicks the door open, taking the other two goons of your taker with two clean headshots.

"Put your gun down or I'll french fry your little mini me's brains out."

"What–" you breathe, Frank shushes you, telling you it's alright, that you're okay.

The guy looks between the two of you and chuckles, "Oh, I remember what it's like being the firstborn, you parents don't give a shit enough about you that you basically raise yourself."

You've had enough of this guy's bullshit for real this time and a sudden wave of adrenaline gifted from everything that is happening right now got you slamming your heel to his foot hard and somehow grabbed his gun and kill him with two shots.

Then point the gun to Frank.

So turns out your dad is alive all this time and has been "watching over you" through cameras with some guy called Micro who also does the same thing to his family. That's how he knows your location. You couldn't believe this, You should've know all about this but you were so caught up in your head that something so mundane like someone setting up a camera around your house were went unnoticed by you. Unlike your dad technology was always your thing. You feel so sick you taste bile in your throat. Frank put his palms up while still shushing you like you're an animal going feral

"Kid–"

"Stay right there."

"Woah, shshh... hey, now, it's okay, it's me, it's me kid. I know you're mad, I know you're confused, but I needed to get away. I needed to keep you safe," Frank is freaking out a bit, words tumbling out of his mouth in rambles.

"No."

"Kid, put the gun down,"

"Speak."

"Easy–"

"What?! What were you trying to say?" you shouted, "Talk,"

"I was trying to protect you–"

"Yeah, you're doing a pretty shit job at it," your words are snaled, eyes glassy with unshed traitorous tears. God every inch of your body hurt. Frank put his hands up, almost stunned, mouth opening and closing again.

"Protect me from what, huh? What is it you were keeping me safe from? Bad people? Those you've killed? Those you made pay for our family? Ones that i have to pay too?"

Frank makes an attempt to take a step closer. "No. No, no, listen to me–"

"Come any closer, I swear to Christ I will unload this fucking thing," you're hysterical now, body shaking, But your hands are impossibly still, holding the weapon. So tight the knuckles turning white because of it. It's almost like holding a gun was as easy as blinking your eyes despite it being your first time. Frank thinks for a brief second that you'd make a good soldier if it was a different situation. Frank can't do nothing other than holding his hands up pleading–begging for his kid to calm down just for a bit, to let him talk, to listen.

"You're dead." you hate how your voice shake and your vision blurry with tears. You hate that you feel weak in front of Frank.

"Please, I–" Frank continues to try to shush you as if he's trying to calm an animal going feral.

"No you're dead! my father is dead. I saw that boat got blown to shit. You have a gravestone just like them. Just like mom. I visit you. Every week. I tell you what's going on with my life. I mourned you. I grieved for you. I–" you're breathing so hard right now it hurt your chest.

Something snapped in your mind, "Does Curt know?"

"He doesn't know this would happen–"

"Cut the bullshit, Frank. Does. He. Know."

"Yeah." remorse fills Frank's tone.

"All this time," you scoff out a laugh, deep from your hurting chest in disbelieve. You put the gun down finally but the safety is still off.

"Every single night I've thought to end it all because there is no point in keeping on going. I can not do this alone. And you just sat there, yeah? Watching me. keeping me 'safe'. you said."

"Look kid, I know I should've come for you but it ain't that easy."

"You know what, I dont give a shit–"

Frank just doesn't want you to say things you don't mean, "Be careful with your words–"

"I don't wanna hear another single goddamn word out of your mouth," you grit through your teeth. Even after all the shit he put you through his ass still scolds you for saying bad words? He's done.

"I don't give a shit what you did, I don't care that you kill people because you're not the only one who's angry, who's enraged. Even in your "punisher" days. Even standing in court of your trial I stood up for you."

Frank averts his eyes to the gun still in your hand. He can't see you in your eyes. The hurtful look in your eyes, Frank doesn't think he'll be able to forget that, it's engrained into his brain forever now.

"I lost my mother. I lost my baby siblings, I lost everyone I have ever cared of. Everyone. But I was wrong right? Not all of them. You're here. Like, here here. breathing and kicking.

"You should've come for me you got that right. but you know what I would've understand. I'd understand you gotta go. That you gotta do what you gotta do. The least you could do was teach me how to fight. You would've want me to fight, right? 'Least you could do was teach me to be something. Someone that's not helpless. So you don't have to what keep me 'safe'."

You gulped, eyes drilling holes into Frank's face. Man, were you thirsty. "But no instead you gotta leave me, alone with only my thoughts,"

Frank stands there, trigger finger twitching like crazy. Letting you let out your anger. Every words, every curse you throw at him, he deserves it all.

"I never ask for much, you know? Even as a child, You know I always keep to myself. And I needed someone. I needed you. Like we don't even have to talk I wanted to just sit with you. That's it, dad. That's all I ever want. I promise that's it please, I promise–" your words morph into broken sobs as you can't take it anymore and that's where Frank marches forward and grabs you, wrapping you in his arms so tight as if his life depended on it, you relaxed a little in his arms and that's where he grabbed the gun from your hand and toss it far. Far away he didnt even know where it lands.

"Shhh, shh it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're okay, it's going to be okay, God, I am so sorry," his words are murmured at the top of your head, over and over and over like a prayer. Bodies trembling, you let out another quiet sob into his chest. As if you feel like you shouldn't cry. Like you think your dad doesn't deserve a single one of your tears and that's when you realized.

You pushed Frank so hard his much bigger frame actually tumbles over and falls to his side. You didn't know where all this strength came from but you don't care, everything hurt too much and you're so, so exhausted. Frank stares up at you with a stunned disbelieved look in his tear stained face.

However the force from it all affected you as well as you feel your body sway and your legs gives up causing you to drop to your knees out of exhaustion. Frank crawled over to you just in time before you hit your head on the ground, catching you again in his arms.

You wake up again, the third time from passing out, sitting in the passenger seat. Head against the window, you stare at the trees you drove by.

"You alright?" Frank cautiously asks.

You don't answer, lips sealed shut. It's silent the entire ride.

[polktd]

sobbing bc the gn! reader tag for frank castle is flooded with fem reader. what have i done to deserve this?

[pendragon-writes]

𝐹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒞𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒 "𝒫𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓇"

❤️=Romantic 🧸=Child/Teen Reader 💙=Platonic

💊=Hurt/Comfort 💛=Fluff 🌎=Au 📖=Series

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