#jon bernthal x you

[liliesdiary]

"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?"

"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?" Shane Walsh x You

Warning: dubcon, Shane drunk fucking you, inspired by that one moment at the CDC except it's mostly consensual, brutal fuck, hair pulling, darling/darlin, fem!reader

Words: 650

Special mentions: @versatilehater @sinsandsweetness @dustbunniess

Daydreaming about Shane Walsh drunk-hate fucking you.

You and Shane never got along, he was always stubborn and a hot head, you saw his obsession with Lori and even called him out on several occasions. You and Shane have always butted heads, yelling at each other but neither of y'all could deny the sexual tension between you two. You always caught Shane staring at your ass in those short dresses and skirts you loved to wear. This time he wasn't letting it slide.

He continued his assault on your hole, tightening his grip on your bruised waist as you were bent over the counter. He was a drunken angry mess and abused your body as you trembled beneath him. Precum was slipping from his cock as he thrusted into you, making you a wet mess.

You moaned and whimpered, “Fuck, please slow down!”, you tried to protest but he covered your mouth and whispered in you ear, “You’re going to fucking take it look a good girl, you’ve been nothing but a brat to me, flaunting your ass with those tiny ass skirts you wear. You didn't think I’d snap one of these days and just bend over your ass and fuck you stupid, darlin?”

Your eyes widen and was filled with tears, your legs were shaking as he thrusted that big veiny cock of his, and fuck it was huge. You winced everytime he thrusted into your aching hole, moving your soaked panties to the side as you were still wearing them. You tried to protest again but his rageful drunken thrusts made you stumble and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell to your knees and tried to crawl away but he grabbed you by your braids harshly and made you face him, his eyes were glossy and red, “Where are you goin, sweetheart? You ain't running away from me.” He then picked you up over his shoulders and sat down on a chair nearby.

He then bent you over on his chair and pressed his bulge against that tiny skirt of yours. You felt his bulge against his jeans, making you even more wet.

“Fuck,” He groans as he rips your soaked panties off, “You're so fucking wet sweetheart..”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You were at his mercy, completely vulnerable and exposed in this moment.

Shane's hands shook as he pulled your skirt up, revealing your bare ass to him. He gripped your hips tightly, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw intensity that made your heart race even faster.

"You think I don't know how much you want this?" he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "How much you crave my cock inside you? You can deny it all you want darling, but I see the way you look at me. The way you flaunt yourself around, knowing exactly what effect it has on me."

You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze as shame and desire battled within you. You knew Shane was right - there had always been an undeniable attraction between you two, despite your frequent clashes. And now, here you were, about to be taken by force by the very man you couldn't help but fantasize about.

Shane's thrusts became more violent as he pulled your braids, his hips slamming against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His rough hands dug into your soft flesh, leaving bruises and marks on your arms and shoulders. You struggled to maintain balance as he continued to pound into you, his cock stretching you wider than ever before. He drunkenly fucked your pussy, groaning and getting rougher with you by the second as you stumble and tremble beneath him, "Always acting so tough huh? Not so tough now darlin, ain't that right?”

[amhrosina]

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 

“What happened?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?” 

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

Tag List:

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[oscarisaacsspit]

i could’ve fixed him

[strawhbrrries]

domestic frank seeing his girl after she’s just come back from a girls night out and she’s a little tipsy and giggly rambling about how much she loves him and how happy she is with him whilst he’s trying to help her get ready for bed :’)

screaming and crying and throwing up, im so glad someone else had these thoughts <3 lots of sweet frankie under the cut!!!!

You weren’t sure who called him or when he showed up, but god he smelled good. He big, strong arms supporting about ninety percent of your weight as he walked the two of you from the car and into the house.

“Frankie!! You smell so good.” Your words were soon followed by a hiccup and some other things neither of you could quite understand.

“C’mon baby, in the house.” Is all he responded, lifting you up the stairs of the porch and avoiding any falling that may have occurred if he let you climb them yourself.

He took your purse and any other accessory he could find and set it on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and a small snack to help counter, what he was sure was, an empty stomach.

“Missed you so much.” You slurred, clumsily taking off your shoes and smiling up at him proudly when you didn’t fall in the process.

“I missed you too, come drink this water for me, okay?” Frank motioned for you to come over, the space between you and the island counter wasn’t that far so he trusted you enough to make it over there.

“M’kay.”

He stood there and watched you drink the entire glass and eat the entire snack he set out, making sure you swallowed it all and didn’t choke, he felt like a father. He loved you too much to risk you choking on a fucking cracker because you forgot how to swallow, in your inebriated state.

When he had gotten the phone call from you about how much you loved him and how glad you were to have him, he knew it was time to pick you up. He knew how much you loved girls night but at some point, your old man, had enough and wanted you back.

“Let’s go get changed for bed, you need to take your meds too.” He grabbed your hand softly and led you to the bedroom, yet again supporting most of your weight but he didn’t mind.

“Can we have sex?” You blurted out, slapping your hand over your mouth and bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”

He smiled softly at you and sat you down on the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead before changing you into your pajamas for the night. He disappears momentarily before coming back with a paper cup of water and your nightly meds, taking the cup away once you had taken the meds.

“C’mere funny girl, let’s rest.” He climbed into the bed and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm softly as a way to coax you into sleeping.

[han1nn]

comrades in war

Frank castle x m!reader

Summary: you and Frank are comrades and also roommates in the marines and get along very well. You've always found him attractive but he's absolutely into women, that's definitely what you believed, till one night changed everything.

Warnings: they just kiss intensely

Requests open!!

(Please write requests😭)

09:27 pm:

I were in my room and read a book. Frank were somewhere outside, he said he still has something to do. But it's getting late and I slowly worrying about him. I lay my book on the table and walk down the hallway. me and Frank shared a small apartment. It wasn't even an apartment, there were four rooms, one for me, one for Frank, a kitchen and of course a bathroom. I open the door and looked at the large hallway that leads the other rooms. We're marines so each of us got a roommate and not a room for himself.

Then I finally saw him. The man that I find so attractive, my roommate and my bestfriend. He just walking down the hallway till he comes to our apartment. I looked at him with relief.

„Where have you been, man?"

I asked him as i leaned against the door. I looked right into his eyes as he stand in front of me. He was a half head taller than me and I think 2 years older but that doesn't matter for us, we were still bestfriends.

„I told you that I had something to do. You forgot that?“

He giggle and go inside the apartment. I grabbed his arm and turn him to me so he had to look at me.

„Nah.. I didn't forgot that but you were gone for so long. I started to worry about you."

I said to him with a worried look. He patted me on my shoulder and his touch let my body shiver. I loved it when he touch me even when he just give me a handshake. I blushed slightly.

„it's okay l'm here now. You don't have to worry anymore.

he laughed and finally goes to our apartment. Frank goes straight to the kitchen and drunk a bottle of water. I closed the door behind me and followed him into the kitchen. I leaned against the door again and watched him. I loved everything about him: the way he stands, the way his body moved around or even his hands. I swallowed hard as he looked into my eyes. I immediately looked away. I was starring at him and he noticed it. i started to get a bit panicked.

„It's pretty late.. I should go to bed now.“

with this sentence I'm trying to escape this unpleasant situation. Frank just nodded and sit down on the chair in the kitchen. I go to my room and closed the door. I hit my head against the door and wondered how stupid I could actually be. I can’t stare at him in this way, he’s my bestfriend and he never would love me. He’s into women and I have no chance with him.

„shit-“

I yelled at myself. I can’t get him out of my thoughts. It’s like I can’t even help but thinking about him. Frank and his wonderful brown eyes, his muscular body, his big and strong hands… I hate me for what I felt, I’m here to keep my country save and not to find the love of my life. I let out a big sight and then I threw myself on my bed. My hand grabbed the book on the table and I started reading again to clear my mind.

01:12 am:

I can’t sleep. Again. My thoughts are full of Frank and I can’t get him out. I sit up in my bed and my hands run threw my hair. Why does he affect me so much? I decided to stand up and fresh up with water. I open my door silently and the first thing I saw was Franks door. It was a bit open but I don’t wanted to bother him, he probably sleeps now, so I don’t risk a sight.

I go into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I looked tired. I just turned the faucet on and filled my hands with water. With the water in my hands I washed my face. As I looked in the mirror again I saw him. I saw Frank. I immediately turned around and looked right into his face.

„Wha- what are you doing here?“

I asked him surprised. We were face to face now and he’s so near against me. I support myself on the sink with my hands.

„nothing, just heard something and wanted to make sure that you’re alright.“

As I heard his words I blushed slightly again. I don’t want him to see my face so I looked away. Did he really mean that? Did he really care about me?

„I‘m fine you can go back to sleep“

I turned around again and my hands filled again with water. I noticed he was still behind me. Why didn’t he go back to sleep? Suddenly I felt two big hands on my hips. I shivered and my hands grabbing the sink. What is he doing?? I began to sweat I didn’t know what to do… my heart was beating so fast.

„continue, don’t let me distract you..“

He whisper into my ear. I was shocked. Why would he do this? Why does he do this? His hands grabbed me tightly and my breath go heavy. I blushed and just stand still i don’t know what to do. Then he moved closer to me and our body’s touched. I let out a little sight. I can’t believe that this moment is real. Then he started to kiss my neck and I can’t but let out a moan. I was just completely overwhelmed by this situation.

„w-why do you..? why-?“

I can not even talk straight anymore. He drives me crazy with his kisses on my neck. I tried to hold myself and keep still but I was trembling, my whole body was trembling.

His kisses started to get more intense and his hands go under my shirt. From this moment I didn’t questioned anything anymore, I just knew that I wanted him. His big and cold hands started to stroke my whole body and I can’t take it anymore. I let out a moan every time his hands moved. I tried to stop my noises by biting into my lip. Then I heard a giggle.

„Don’t hide these noises, not when they’re sound so cute..“

Franks hands leaved my shirt and turned me around to him. I blushed so hard right now and I don’t want this moment to ever end. He pushed me against the next wall and kisses me right on my lips. This moment was indescribable.

I closed my eyes and reply his kisses. He took off my shirt and kissed me from my neck, down to my upper body. My heart was beating so fast it’s like it wanted to jump out. Frank kissed me down my stomach and knees down. I looked at him and breathe so heavy I really can’t take it anymore. His hands resting on my hips and he still kissed my stomach.

I was waiting for this moment so long and now we were here. Two man kissing in a bathroom. We kissed the whole night and it was the experience I made in my whole life…

End

——————————————————————————

This was my first fanfic. I hope you guys liked it. You can write feedback for mee :)

[smut-angel]

learning curve

warnings: age gap (45 y/o x 23 y/o), cis! fem (black) reader, dry humping, kissing, cursing, mention of masturbation, virgin! reader

18+ only

reblogs & comments are highly encouraged!

tags: @celestianstars

“was that okay?” you ask meekly. it was just a simple peck- 15 seconds that nearly made you dizzy. frank nods, biting his lip trying to hold down a large grin. “yeah, that was nice,” he replies softly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. he leans in again, teasing you as his nose softly grazes against your own, your lips open, desperate to touch his again. finally, he breaks the gap and pecks your lips. soon, the pecks form into kisses of longing and desire. 

“bet the guys at school are lining up for you,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere. 

“bet the guys at school are lining up for you,” he said, seemingly out of nowhere. 

“no, definitely not. guys at school don’t want me, i’m not their type.” 

“no way. you’re a pretty girl…hell, you’re my type.” the usual confidence in his voice began to dip as he realized he was speaking to his best friend’s 23 year old daughter. quickly, he broke eye contact with you, looking down at his boots, trying to think of a way to backtrack on his words.

“i’m your type?” you ask him, fiddling with your cuticles. 

“i mean, yeah… if i were younger, of course.” 

“guys my age aren’t into me… i haven’t even kissed anyone,” you confessed. you weren’t sure why you even mentioned the kissing part, it just felt like something he should know.

“bullshit!” frank exclaimed.

“i’m serious!” 

“you’re 23 and never kissed anyone?” frank was in true disbelief. 

“i’m a late bloomer,” you shrugged. before you knew it, frank was offering to teach you how to kiss properly.

“okay,” he says after pulling away. you feel yourself begin to frown at the emptiness that now hovers over your lips. “this is the part where you use your tongue,” he says slowly. “are you okay with that?” you nod a bit too eagerly, making frank chuckle a bit. this time, you lean into him first, capturing his lips smoothly as you’ve gotten used to the feeling. suddenly, his tongue grazes your bottom lip.

as you gasp, he slips the pink muscle expertly inside your mouth. you moan quietly as your pussy begins heats up at the new sensations. naturally, your fingers wrap around his neck and play through his dark curls. the wet sounds of your lips and tongue smacking and colliding made frank’s cock twitch and you more and more damp by the second. somehow, the kiss gets deeper, and frank’s large hand hooks around your waist. you take this opportunity to get closer to him, pushing him back into the couch, throwing you leg over his lap as you now hung over him.

“guess you’re getting the hang of it,” he says after pulling away for air. you both laugh, going at each other’s mouths again. you can't help but to rock your hips a bit while the pads of his thumbs rub on on each side of your waist. 

he tests the waters by lifting the hem of your shirt up a few inches, and running his hands a bit farther down your back until they’re both planted on your ass. the more parts of your skin touched the more flustered you became. the coarseness of his beard on your cheeks, his calloused hands and rough fingertips on your hips, his soft curls between your fingers. he faintly tasted like bubblegum and morning cigarettes. you’ve never been this intimate with anyone and every second of it was driving you wild. you could feel every small hair on your arms standing at attention. your body felt like it could implode in ecstasy at any moment. 

“i need you,” you whisper, foreheads pressed against each other’s, both out of breath from the sloppy kisses. 

“we can’t,” he says after a peck of your now swollen lips. you exhale, your hips bucking even more as you now sit up straight over top of his groin. it was as if your brain was in a fog of horniness. you wanted nothing more but for him to rip your clothes off and have his way with you, but your anxiousness to this new world of intimacy and lust made you hesitant. 

“god, you’re so pretty,” frank groans, watching you grind on him. “so desperate for me.” like clockwork you felt his erection rise, relieving you slightly of the emptiness that haunted the wetness between your thighs. your sex ached as it clenched around nothing; the friction between your shorts and his rough work jeans on your clit made your body shiver. 

frank had never done anything like this before. he’d never thought of dry humping, not even in a fantasy. but being alone here with you, the thrill of your parents coming home at any second but you both being too needy and full of lust to care that it resorted to humping each other in jeans made him deliriously horny. indulging in this, frank began to thrust back into you, imagining himself inside of your plush pussy; how soft and tight you would feel.

“feels…nngh- feels so good, frankie.” your voice was nearly in a whisper; he frowned at the way you were holding back. your teeth captured your bottom lip and your eyes were closed tightly causing your face to scrunch up a bit. 

“look at me,” he commanded. frank’s deep voice caused you to follow his directions. his hands gripped your waist even tighter causing you to arch your back. “i wanna hear you. i wanna hear everything.” it was as if frank had a remote control that sent a signal straight to your heat. you moaned on queue as if he had pressed a button to make you do so.

he was so fucking hot like this. underneath you, yet having so much control over you. his dark eyes bore right through yours, feeling like he could see every time you masturbated to the sheer thought of him. his lip twitched upwards, now amused at how loud you were becoming. 

“i w-wish you could feel how wet i am,” you confessed. 

“you’re so fucking naughty, aren’t you?” he teased, gripping the back of your neck. his tongue danced down your jaw and stopped at your neck where he began to suck at your skin ferociously. this new sensation caused your hips to jolt and mouth to hang open as more erotic sounds began to leak from your lips. 

“jesus fucking christ!” you screamed, gripping his hair so hard that his scalp began to tingle. releasing from your neck, frank licked at your clavicle, then back up towards you jaw until his lips were on yours again. his hands found his way to your breasts which you welcomed as you put your own hand over his, feeling the way he massaged and squeezed at them.

teeth clashed as you swallowed one another’s moans. you two humped at each other like animals; sweaty, loud and relentless. your clit began to throb at the pace of a quickened heartbeat. you embraced the familiar feeling, your hips bucking wildly as you chased the impending orgasm.

“frank, i’m- i’m so close! i’m so fucking close!” he held you tighter, the friction of his hardened cock through the denim becoming even more apparent underneath your aching bud. 

“cum with me, pretty girl,” frank said through staggered breaths, “cum with me.” again, as if under a spell, you follow his words, your orgasm crashing over you as you quivered and squealed at the sweet release. frank’s heavy groans were muffled in the nape of your neck, which he kissed and nipped at even more once recovering from the aftershocks of his own ecstasy spilling over him. 

the smell of sex began to hang in the air, bringing you both to reality. quickly, you leap from frank’s lap, pulling down your shorts as they now felt uncomfortable paired with your sticky panties. frank let out a fake cough, standing to his feet and fixing his shirt, making sure he looked at everything except your eyes. 

“tell your dad i’ll be back next weekend to finish the truck, alright?” 

“y-yeah. i will.” without another word, frank let himself out. the sound of his engine came through the walls of the quiet house. you stood there, although fully clothed, feeling naked and vulnerable. what the fuck just happened? 

[persage]

A little less awful - Shane Walsh

Summary: When Shane comes close to losing you, he realizes that just the idea scares him more than he thought. But things aren't easy, not with a man like him.

(Post S2) Shane Walsh x Reader

Usually I only write about Steve Harrington, but this time I wanted to try something different. I know Shane isn't the good guy, I know he's not that loved too, but he's given me a great inspiration to write (and then every once in a while my love for morally gray characters takes over) so here's this little work because i admit, it's my fault, but i wish I could see more of Shane. Also my man Jon Bernthal deserves everything.

Words: 3k

It's a rustle in the middle of the meadow, broken branches and trampled dry leaves. The noise of quick footsteps and heavy breathing approaching. A thud, a moan and then footsteps again. You run fast in the direction of an abandoned house and behind you a horde of walkers is chasing you, so many that this time you can't help but think it's over. Really over.

You've been scared many times since this hell started devastating the whole world, your life and erasing what you've known. You were scared when you saw your father transform, your friends die -  by the walkers or equally monstrous men - but you have never  feared for your life like you are doing now. It's just that things have been going well for a while, far too long, and you felt like you could manage to live in peace here. You were obviously wrong.

You have only one thought in mind. It's the face of a man, his strong features, short hair that is growing back,  eyes darker than the night, so full of demons that only you know how to keep at bay. If you don't reach the cottage soon the walkers will make you their meal and no, you don't want to die. For you. For him. He'll never admit it openly, he's not a man of big demonstrations, but you know you're the one holding him together, that if you die he falls apart.

Also you don't want to die before hearing those words leave his lips. You don't want to die before you know that there is still some hope in the world, some kind of love. Above all you don't want to die to feed these damned monsters.

Out of breath  you let go in a cry of frustration, while you feel your legs getting weaker the only thing that drives you is the adrenaline. With one last desperate shot you reach the house and he's here, rifle in hand, ready as always.

"Shane!" you scream. You have never been so happy to see him in your life.

"Go inside, hurry!" he replies as bullets whiz through the air, impacting what remains of the walkers rotting skulls. You mentally thank the fortuitous coincidence that made you find an armory on your path weeks ago, there was nothing left but an old silencer hidden in a corner. Your little miracle. You see Shane drop his stoic mask for a moment when he runs out of bullets, or maybe it's the rifle jamming, you don't know, you don't understand and you don't have time to do it, you grab the hunting knife placed on the chair behind you, in the small veranda of the house. With a small jerk, ignoring his protests, you move away to stab one of the two remaining walkers in the head, splashing all the blood around. Shane is immediately at your side, ready to kill the other with his dagger. Then, making sure they're all dead, he turns around and, with his back to you, walks towards the house.Your home. You silently observe the tortured dead bodies. You wonder if one day you'll find a familiar face among them, you wonder if anyone will find yours, if they will ever have compassion.

You don't have any, you can't. Shane taught you that you don't have to have any to survive.

"Shane" you began by breaking the silence as soon as you reach him, leaning against the wall for support. You're so tired you just want to fall to the ground, but you can't. You don't want to be weak, not in front of him. He 's always so strong, ready, invincible.

Sometimes you wonder if he's even human.

When you found him wounded in a field months ago, none of your old group gave him a chance of survival, no one wanted to take him with you except for you and Arnold, a former war doctor. Arnold was good and if it wasn't for him Shane would be dead. It was your job to take care of him. He was unconscious and in the throes of a delirious fever and you dragged him along with a makeshift stretcher made of wood and rags for a day and a half without respite before finding a place to let him recover. The other members of the group left you with him and you didn't object, because people who leave behind a wounded but alive man - in a world where being alive is a privilege - will do the same with you.

Shane woke up 3 days later. It took him weeks to recover. He never told you what happened to him, he only said he deserved it. You didn't believe him, cause in the end you wanted him to be a good man. You wanted to know saving his life was worth it. Then you hit the road again, Arnold died and you two were left alone. You've become each other's only comfort, even though Shane Walsh is a difficult comfort, a difficult man that you sometimes feel you don't know. know nothing about. It's Ironic since he the only thing you have left in the world.

With the bloody knife still in hand he walks towards you. He's not threatening you, he wouldn't hurt you and you know it, that's why you stay still. "Y/n fuck! why do you always mess up? You're not able for once to....Keep quiet, not go wandering around almost getting caught by those bloody walkers. No cause there's always fucking Shane to save you ass" He yells. You look into his eyes for a few seconds.

"You could have left me there"

You reply without a single emotion in you voice, moving away from him without looking back. You know Shane is trying to grab your wrist, you know he stops before doing it. He looks at his arm outstretched towards you, the muscles, the hand shaking with anger and fear. He dropps the knife from his other hand and brought a hand to the back of his neck like he always does, then let it slide over his face and when you are gone, hiding in the only room of the house, he let himself slide to the floor, caught in the realization that this time he could have really lost you. That it can happend at any moment and it's not that he hasn't thought about it before but this is time... It was so close. So real. He feels something acid rise in his throat, a knot, a block of cement. He would like to throw up.

He wasn't there to protect you, like always.

Like he has never protected anyone, because Shane isn't able, because Rick has always been the one able to defend his people. He misses him, his brother.

He also misses Carl. And Lori.

They were family, the one he wanted to protect, the one he destroyed without apology or justification.

You screwed up, Walsh.

He looks at the closed door of the bedroom and Shane wonders if he's destroying you too. Since the moment he opehas opened his eyes and saw you cleaning his wounds he has decided he wanted to be better. he still does, he wants to try to find himself - the man he was before all this, who ran to the hospital to save his best friend, the policeman Shane Walsh - but a good person doesn't treat their loved ones like he treats you.

A good person doesn't hurt someone he cared about like he is hurting you, like he is ruining you with his only presence here. A good person wouldn't stay in this house so long. No, he should have followed the original plan: find you a safe place, with other good people because there must be someone like this in the world. Maybe Rick. He should have find him leave you with him and you would be safer.

He will do it.

Then he will go away forever, so as not to stain yourself with his darkness, with his madness. Because Shane has now discovered a beast in himself and is afraid that the time will come when he will not be able to contain it again. Truth is that every day he repeats himself that you will leave the next one and it never happens and every day the idea of letting you is harder to accept cause he is just an selfish peace of shit.

When evening falls, you barricade yourself in the house and light the fire in what is left of the fireplace, in silence, with brusque gestures that reveal nervousness. Shane kicks out a couple of squirrels and starts quietly skinning them with his knife, like Daryl taught him to do a while back. He throws you one without even looking at you and you sit cross-legged around the hearth, to roast what little meat you can get. You lack real food.

You're hungry and you're tired and you want to cry, but you don't.

Shane would think you're crying for him and it's not like that, really.

You don't care about his reaction, you don't care about his outburst and you don't care that he doesn't talk to you, that he doesn't trust you and that he keeps his distance when you just want human contact. It doesn't matter that he touches your hands and then builds walls between you, that he kisses your neck at night or holds you in your sleep like you are the most precious thing on earth without ever taking an extra step towards you. You don't care about these things, they can't matter when you're experiencing the end of the world, right?

You eat looking down, obviously hungry. Shane instead looks at you chewing slowly. Once finished he leans on his elbows, he sighs watching the fire dance in front of him, then you again, illuminated by the orange light of the flames.

You are pretty. No, you are beautiful.

Shane knows it, he's always known it, but now it's like having an apparition in front of his eyes. You're perfect even now, tired to the point of exhaustion, with dirty hai and badly tied hair while eating a squirrel. You're beautiful and you're the only thing he has. His angel, his savior. And he has no right to desire you, to have you by his side. He has no right to look at you like that. You lift your head crossing his gaze with arched eyebrows

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." he replies unexpectedly. You throw away the remaining bones and clean your fingers as best you can, trying to have a semblance of elegance under his watchful eye. You hug your knees, sinking your face into them. Shane tilts his head, trying to catch your expression. He knows you're on edge and he's terrified of seeing you cry in front of him again, he's not good at that sort of thing anymore. Once, oh, once he was very good but now, now he's afraid of always making mistakes and he prefers not to try for fear of hurting you more. He doesn't want to hurt you, he can't bear the thought of letting anyone else down. He would rather die. And he hates that you have met him now, that you will never know a world where he was just Deputy Shane Walsh, and not Shane Walsh the survivor who tried to kill his best friend, the one who was sleeping with his wife, the one who wanted his family, the leader no one wanted, the hero no one recognized.

Shane Walsh, the villain from someone else's story.

"I'm sorry I made you angry." he adds, with a strange softness in his voice.

It hits you. Usually he would have just waited for your anger to subside and everything would have returned to normal, but something inside him changed and he couldn't say when. Stupid lonely man, stupid weak heart.

"It doesn't matter."You reply. You've almost resigned yourself to always seeming the weakest, it was like this even before, with your group and it's like this now. You want so much to look strong for a moment and show Shane how much potential you have, but after getting chased by a horde of walkers for trying to hunt something for him you think you've lost all hope. A cold shiver runs down your back and you unconsciously try to warm your arm with one hand

"I was a fool." You continue letting out a little sad laugh. You approach the fire with disjointed and awkward movements and he smiles without realizing it, finding your awkwardness terribly cute. He has seen you run miles of tree-lined paths, jump and scramble for survival with extreme ease and then you get stuck at the simplest things. It's sweet. Shane always says your problem is that you your head too much "And you don't use it at all"

He shakes his head, gets up and goes away. You, lost in thought, stare at the fire without wondering where he is going. When he comes back a few minutes later he has a blanket in his hands and sits next to you draping it over your shoulders.

"Thank you..." you whisper. "You must have thought I'm weak." Shane shakes his head again in disagreement

"No." he answers. You nod, holding back tears and rest your head on his shoulder slowly, for fear of a rejection that won't come. Before he can even feel your weight against his body, Shane is already hugging you, squeezing you affectionately. The truth is that he cares about you, he is afraid of losing you because he knows that if he loses you, he loses everything. His purpose is to keep you alive, to find a better place for you. Today he got scared but he never thought of you as weak, after all if you really from walkers, you would have been one of them. The only thought makes him shiver. You don't deserve such a terrible end.

You raise your head with slightly shining eyes and just smile tenderly. "Even if you treat me badly sometimes, I know you're a good person, deep down." you say. Shane looks you in the eye. His gaze is veiled in night yet sparkle with a new light that you have rarely seen in him and that you recognize immediately.

Affection. Devotion. Lust.

Shane wonders how he can hold on, how he can keep you away when you're the only thing keeping him grounded, wonders how he's done it so far because now that you're so close, with your soft skin ready to be kissed, he understands incredibly difficult. He Imagines the sensation of your warm skin under his big hands, the way your nails could dig into his back, the way your little hands would grip his shoulders, the softness of your voice becoming a moan softly begging his name.

He looks away, he'd better never have such thoughts. He couldn't think of you like that, you're... You're still good, still uncorrupted by the new world, still willing to believe there's something good in the world and he doesn't want to screw it up. But you don't care about this, about what he did, what he could do. You care that despite believing himself evil and dangerous, Shane Walsh has always protected you.

He has kept you alive. He has caressed you, with his fingers barely touching you, while the world tried to suffocate you. And you want more now, you want to discover all that Shane Walsh can be and give, you want to discover what it's like to be a part of him. He turns his head towards you again and it's the anticipation of something, the trepidation of a moment, you shiver under his warm and slow touch. His fingertips brush your ears as he brushes the hair away from your face.

"Are you still cold?" He asks. His voice is hoarse, broken. This strong and intrepid man you've seen defeating monsters, now he almost seems to be afraid of you. You grab his hand, he lets himself be guided as you bring it to your lips and kiss his fingertips.

"Y/n" he whispers.

"Don't say we can't, don't say that," you mutter.

"I can't... I don't" You shake your head.

"But do you want, Shane?" He can't deny it, he swallows letting his gaze run between your eyes and your lips, so damn close to his fingers that he feels your warm breath tickling him. "I don't want to hurt you"

You smile. "Let me" You begin "Let me prove to you that you can't hurt me Shane." he remains motionless, closes his eyes, a gesture of surrender as you approach and place a kiss on his cheek, long, then one closer to his lips. You hear him sigh as he grabs you by your hips with his big hand, squeezing the fabric of your sweatshirt.

"Shane" You whisper, moving towards his neck, leaving moist kisses in the way drawn by his veins, you can feel his heart beating and you think that today this is all that matters.

Warm flesh, beating hearts.

You and him.

Shane decides that right now he needs nothing more than to stay here. With you maybe the world will seem a little less awful.

[stargirlfics]

Jupiter Haze

Jon Bernthal x Black Female Reader

Summary: Seeing Jon smoke a joint one day sparks a desire that he’s more than happy to help you indulge in

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, drug mentions - weed, smut: high sex, dirty talk, intense and passionate fucking, multiple orgasms, shotgunning during oral (male receiving), pussy eating, creampie mentions, mention of tears during sex with reassuring check in

Word Count: 4.6k

Note: This gif has been living rent free since I saw it and I just had to write smutty stoned!jon, he’s so fine it’s ridiculous! Enjoy!

It just wasn’t fair how charming and handsome he could be, it really wasn’t. Especially not when he snuck a glance or two your way while you and the dogs cuddled up together, cause even sitting down, Jon Bernthal had you weak in the knees.

You had accompanied him to film one of the episodes of his podcast, partly because you loved watching him work and mostly because you loved hearing him talk more than anything. 

His voice was soothing to listen to and you enjoyed seeing him so invested in the conversation, he was just the best to be around and you felt extra lucky to be his girl, plus it wasn’t like he’d ever make you feel anything less.

You were sipping on the coffee he picked up for you earlier that morning, smiling to yourself, half in your thoughts, half listening to Jon interview his guest when you noticed him pull out a blunt, the lighter he’d been holding flicked expertly to light it. 

Heat prickled at your skin as you focused on the action, taking in the sight of his hands, how skillfully they handled the joint, the smooth inhale, how his head tipped back just slightly, and then the inevitable exhale, something so unbelievably attractive about the way he blew the smoke out from the sides of his mouth. 

The conversation continued, but you were still stuck on what you’d seen. You’d smoked before on occasion and had your fair share of edibles even before you’d met so seeing Jon smoke wasn’t shocking, it was just how hot he was when he did it that had you a little out of sorts, coupled with the fact that in almost the one year you’d been together you’d never gotten high with him. 

And so there, in that moment, the thought of changing that had been put in your mind. 

You wondered if he noticed, how you squirmed and shifted in your seat the rest of the time he talked, the unconscious lick of your lips when you took in the hazy look in his eyes, the way his body relaxed in his seat with another hit of the joint, yeah, you kinda hoped he did. 

-

Afterwards, you sat in his truck, the air conditioning refreshing against the heat outside, your eyes soft as you watched Jon through the window, letting the dogs run around for a bit before the drive home, your favorite place to be. 

“Thanks for comin with me, sweetheart,” his familiar gentle rumble filled your ears as he climbed in the truck finally, his hand outstretched to give your knee a thoughtful squeeze. 

“Of course! Like I said this morning, I like listening to your conversations. And the view isn’t so bad either.” you smiled to yourself, not looking at him deliberately. 

That earned you a laugh, his hand moving from your knee to your arm, tugging you towards him so he could plant a warm kiss to your lips, nothing about it helping the fire in your belly tamp down, not when you could taste the coffee on his lips and definitely not with how he brushed his nose against yours when you parted. 

Because truthfully, you had been polite and sweet and innocent the entire morning but underneath that was all the unsaid desire you had for him, especially the image of him and that blunt between his lips, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

In fact, you thought about it the entire drive, your eyes shifting from Jon’s hand’s on the wheel and the scenery passing you by. 

It almost made you feel a little embarrassed because if he truly knew how often you thought of him, how often you stole glances at him and daydreamed and swooned over him…the thought made your stomach flip but how could anyone blame you? Everything about him was attractive, even the most ordinary and simple things he said or did, it only made both your feelings for him and your desire for him that much stronger. 

“Baby? You’ve been real quiet, you doin okay?” his voice whisked you out of your thoughts, a slight edge of concern to his voice that made your cheeks warm. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m more than okay, just thinking bout you honestly” the reassurance and a smile from you convinced him enough. 

“Ah well now you gotta tell me the specifics, baby! You know how it goes, what’s that pretty head of yours thinking about me?” he insisted when you protested a bit, one of his hands leaving the wheel to rest on the back of your seat. 

The sigh you huff out is playful but really it’s one of resignation to the fact that now would be a perfect time to bring up what had been so on your mind because you’re sure he’d say yes to what you wanted to suggest and you should take the opportunity and not give him a half-truth answer just because you felt silly. 

“Alright, alright. I was just thinking about you smoking that blunt earlier…you looked real good doing it and I wondered why we’ve never smoked together before. I…think we should one day, like being high with you would be fun, you know.” 

Your words trail off, stopping yourself from rambling too much, your eyes watching his features. 

“Oh, hell yeah! It’s kinda crazy we haven’t yet cause I would kill to see what you’re like stoned. Just say the word whenever, baby, I’m down.” There was that handsome grin you loved so much, gracing his face and making your heart beat even louder. 

Home finally came into view, the truck coming to a stop and the summer heat wrapping around you once more when Jon came around to open the door for you and you’re even more wrapped up in your daydreams about him than before, content and feeling spoiled by him in the best of ways. 

And in his eyes, it was true, he’d give you the world and all you had to do was ask. 

—

Saturday night, your head in his lap, the sun just beginning to set, pale blue swirled into pinky orange and then the heated orange flame from the lighter in Jon’s hand became the only thing in your view. 

The blunt was between your lips already, the one he had expertly rolled for you both to share, your eyes blinking up at him sweetly as he lit the end, gaze roaming over you till it landed on your face and the deep inhale you take before it’s passed to him.

Jon couldn’t think of anything sexier as he watched you take in the acrid smoke, holding it for just a moment to let it fill your lungs before exhaling, smoky tendrils filling the air above you both. 

“Took that like a fuckin champ, look at you! Why haven’t we done this sooner?” His voice swam in your head, a giggle breaching past your lips as you felt your body begin to relax and buzz, the familiar slow heaviness seeping into your eyelids and then to the rest of your body. 

You watched as he took a puff then, his head tilted back to rest on the back of the couch before he exhaled too, his eyes hooded and downcast as they landed on your face again. 

The world felt so calm now, so still and silent save for you and him and the dogs rustling about somewhere in the room, a giddy kind of serenity bathing the space as the sun shone in through the windows. Golden hour. 

“Goddamn am I lucky…” Jon bounced his thigh slightly, making your vision bob with the movement as you opened your eyes at his words. 

“Mm, I was just thinking the same thing, babe.” you turned on your side, your cheek flat against the front his thigh now, eyes hazy as you watch his own. Crazy how you could see so much in them, things he didn’t even have to say, just something for you to feel as you looked at him. 

Jon passed you the joint again, shaking his head internally at how you didn’t quite catch what he meant, that you didn’t see what he saw in this moment, how the golden sun that filtered through the window had landed on your outstretched figure, your brown skin illuminated with a glow that nearly made him speechless. 

He wanted to tell you about it as you passed the joint back to him, his fingers brushing with yours, your warm touch like a lifeline for him, but he held back, knowing how he could get when he was uninhibited this way, the weed making his lips loose. He’d keep the moment private for now, all his feelings for you wrapped in it till the time was right to tell you how much he fucking adored you. 

And though unsaid, you could feel the affection, the softness of him flowing to you. You liked stoned Jon very much, content with how his hands held and caressed your skin gently, the overall sweetness he had with you dialed up even more now, the two of you unable to contain laughs and smiles as you found things to talk about, tangents to go on. 

He had put on something to watch earlier but you were a bit too enthralled in each other to really care to watch anymore and though you’d moved your head from his lap to sit upright next to him, your bodies were closer still.

A few more puffs of the joint were shared equally between you both till Jon placed the bud on the ashtray sat on the coffee table in front of him, his hands animated as he explained in depth something you had asked his opinion on. 

There was your love of hearing his voice again, filling up your body as you lay your cheek against the couch cushion, your knees tucked to your chest, your eyes and ears drinking him in, his elongated cadence, how you could practically see his brain thinking faster than his mouth could keep up with because the subject of conversation was something he was passionate about. 

Handsome and soft, tender with his gaze that was only for you, that was Jon, that was your man, the realization making you reach for his hand which he took without hesitation as he spoke, his fingers twining with yours. 

Then naturally there was a lull in the conversation, the physical tension between you both coming to the forefront now that a comfortable silence had taken hold, both of you simply enjoying your highs, the unspoken want that you’d been drifting around louder now, all your touches and embraces this evening held back to be appropriate, teasing, suggestive even but still polite. Until now. 

Floaty and emboldened, the inhaled smoke that permeated your body guided you to bring his hand that was still in yours up to your mouth, pressing a sweet kiss to his knuckles. 

“Why’d you have to make me want you so bad, Jonny?” your voice was hushed, almost a whine, your cheeks heating when his eyes flicked to yours. 

Yeah you’d been intimate, you weren’t a stranger to the way Jon could manage his way around your body, your wants, plenty a time had been spent clawing at his sheets while he fucked you deeply, your moans and near screams only muffled by his mouth or his hand against your lips. But this was different, the desire even more intense with the high, sprawling, almost too concentrated and you wanted to let it drag you under. 

The need to be under his thumb, to feel him, in and around you was white hot and you hoped he’d want it too, hoped he wouldn’t object to being intimate in this state. 

“Cause I’ve been wantin you too, sweetheart, I always want you. Especially now, you have no idea,” he gave your hand a squeeze, your heartbeat picking up in pace at his admission. 

There was your green light. 

It didn’t take long for you to end up in his lap, your knees straddling either side of him while your mouths met, heat licking at your core as you both gave in to the pull, letting your bodies do what they wanted. 

Jon cursed against your mouth when he felt you grind down against him, your body trying to find purchase against him, aching for friction while his hands grabbed at your ass through your leggings, squeezing your waist, fingertips raking at the sides of your thighs as you whined into his mouth when you felt him, the hardening curve of him against your center. 

“Fuck, baby! Doesn’t take much for you to get all slutty on me when you’re high, huh? That why you wanted to smoke with me, just wanted me to take care of your little horny self?” the deep and gravelly tone of his voice filled your ears, an edge of playfulness to it that made you whimper into his shoulder. 

“S’your fault…” you throw back, a lazy smirk on your face when pulled you back so he could look at your face. 

“Mhm, I know. But it’s yours too cause I’ve been thinking about how good it would feel to be buried inside you since we started smoking. See what you do to me, darlin?” he took your hand then, moving it between your thighs so you could cup him. 

It made you smile when he bucked up into your touch, how his eyes closed for a moment when your palm flattened to rub up and down the length. He must ache just as much as you now. 

“Please, Jonny…I want you, want you to fuck me, fill me up, please,” you give him puppy eyes and then leaned in to drag heated kisses up the column of his neck. 

“I will, baby, just stand up for me, gotta get you outta these clothes or I’m gonna end up ripping them off you.” 

You listened to him then as reluctant as you were to leave the warmth and safety of his lap, because you knew he was good for it, reminiscing about the favorite pair of panties he’d ripped to shreds one night when you were both too horny and pressed for time to fully undress. 

Jon could hardly hold back, his hands itching to make you fall apart as he helped you stand up, keeping you steady as you giggled and turned so your ass was facing him, his ears happy with the sound of your soft squeal as he pulled down your leggings, his dick twitching at the sight of your figure. 

It didn’t take long for the both of you to strip bare but it felt slowed, the high making all your movements feel slowed, careful, fully present and aware of the moment. 

And normally Jon would take his time with you, work you open, make you cum without even fucking you first but he thought it would be cruel to make you wait especially when you were whimpering for him like that. 

Weed always made you that much more sensitive, your pussy soaked already as you slowly found your way in his lap again, your eyes on his, tethered as he lined himself up and you began to sink down on him, his own hips strained as he pushed up against you, meeting only slight resistance as your walls gave way and pulled him in. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, his fingertips dragging soothing trails down your back as you both groaned at the stretch because Jon was thick all the way around, thick and heavy as he pulsed and filled your soaked hole, your eyes never leaving his. 

Nothing else existed outside this, outside you and him, eyes hooded, tinged a slight red, heat wrapped around your bodies as he bottomed out, arms keeping you pressed against his chest, keeping you deep. 

You might as well have been on Jupiter, a planet for the two of you alone. 

“Attagirl, baby. You’re always so good to me, aren’t you. That pussy always takes me so well. Oh I know, I know, sweetheart.” Jon cooed, your foreheads pressed together as he moved his hips up to nudge himself even deeper, his last words in response to you crying out. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, your pussy clenching around him as you remembered how strong he was, the strength in his arms felt under your fingers as he began to bounce you up and down, nice and slow, letting you both savor the feeling. 

Every drag of his hips had you choking out gasps and whines, your body feeling weightless as you got comfortable, melting into his hold, letting him move you, your sweet sounds filling the air as his mouth explored your neck and down to your chest, eventually biting and sucking at your nipples while your hands tugged at his hair, content to be getting fucked like this. 

“You feel so good, baby, please…fuck, oh please!” you cried out as he angled his thrusts, knocking against a spot that made you see stars. 

“Yeah, is that the spot? That where you need me to be? Tell me, pretty girl.”

He was such an asshole for that because he knew damn well it was but hearing your breathy whines and pleas was what he wanted more than anything. As if you wouldn’t give him anything he wanted when he made you feel like this. 

“Mhm, right there, baby, please just fu-” the words turned into a strangled moan as he rocked your body against him, hitting the spot over and over while your hand drifted down to rub at your clit, the added sensation making you shake. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being anymore, it all felt too good, too all consuming to care and Jon only encouraged your moans, filling with pride at how he was splitting you open, giving you praise after praise for how beautifully you took it. 

“Shit! Jonny, I’m so close, please, I’m so close,” you dug your nails into his biceps and buried your face in his neck as he picked up his pace just slightly, your ass colliding with his hips, his hand still keeping you deep on him, the sound of skin meeting adding another layer of pleasure to it all.  

He wasn’t fucking you very rough at all but it was still intense and his cock reached deep with every thrust, both of you tensing and clinging to one another as he pounded your pussy sweetly, just perfectly right to make you wanna explode. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this big dick aren’t you, jesus I can feel you squeezin me, sweetheart. Let it go, lemme have it, know you can do it for me,” his half growl rang in your ears as you focused on doing just that. 

You surrendered to the rising tide swimming in your core, finding your release with a shrill yelp, letting him talk you through, letting him keep fucking you through it too, drawing out your release till you were catching your breath and sliding off of him, almost too overstimulated but too full of desire to wanna stop here. 

He raised an eyebrow at you when you sank down to your knees, placing yourself between his thighs, “I wanna clean up my mess before I get back on,” the sinfully innocent bat of your eyelashes made him twitch once more as he watched you lay your cheek against his knee for a moment. 

You were gonna kill him, he was so sure of it. 

You were just something else and the kicker was that you were his, all his and he never wanted to cherish and spoil and fuck and make happy someone so much before. 

“Mm, that’s my girl. Go ahead, better not miss any spots either.” Jon quipped and you responded with a few nails dug into the meat of his thigh before you lean in to drag your tongue up his shaft, covered in your slick and still throbbing hard. 

While you busied yourself, he leaned forward carefully to grab the rest of the blunt still on the ashtray, the flicks of a lighter heard as he lit it again, taking a big puff and leaning back against the couch again, his eyes burning into you as you wrapped your lips around him, sucking and licking as you took him deeper into your mouth, moaning at how you had to stretch your mouth to fit around his girth. 

The taste of yourself on his shaft made your body buzz again, something so filthy and hot about it, about all of this, especially with how you had an up close and personal view of him smoking again, the very image that started this to begin with.

What a bastard…and you couldn’t love him any less. 

As you bobbed your head, slicking him up with your spit, your wet slurps and shared moans filling the air, he grabbed your chin affectionately, pulling you off him for a second, taking another drag of the blunt and holding it in his mouth before leaning down so your face was almost touching his. 

Your breath hitched as you moved closer, slotting your mouth against his, parting your lips in anticipation of what he was gonna do, your brain going fuzzy as you held eye contact with him while he exhaled the smoke into your waiting mouth, shotgunning you, shrouding your realities in another layer of high. 

Thighs clenched together as you took it in and waited till the smoke cleared a little before you whimpered out of need and got your mouth back on his dick, letting him control the movement of your head this time, giving him your trust and your air supply as he fucked your throat tenderly. 

Every thrust of his hips, every curse and groan from him was one of passion and pure adoration for you and the filthy side of yourself he felt honored to get to see. 

Golden hour had turned to a magenta sunset as you released him from your mouth with a pop when he groaned out that he wanted to fuck you some more, Jon going back to admiring you as you stood up, his hand in yours, never letting there be a chance for you to stumble, his face pressing against your tummy from his seated position. 

He just wanted to breathe you in, to map your body with his hands, memorize each curve and plane and expanse of you, the woman who occupied so much space in his heart now, who he wanted to worship and love as much as he could. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart. I love you, you know that?” his words were hushed against your skin but you still heard him, your brain foggy, body and heart feeling everything. 

“I love you too, baby, always.”

Eventually, the sweet kisses Jon had pressed to your stomach had turned needier, lustier, his mouth traveling further south to lap at your slick folds until you were whining for him to be inside you again. 

This time he had you on your back, your legs hooked around his back as he easily pushed back inside you, filling you up to the hilt and smirking at the way you clutched his arms, his gold chain swinging just above your face, distracting you till he gave you another thrust, your eyes floating back up to his own. 

God you looked so wrecked, so fucked out, so floaty and needy and it drove him crazy, made him harder than he could ever remember being. 

And you recognized the need in his eyes, encouraging him to give it to you, that you wanted all of him, that you didn’t want him to hold back and that was all the permission he needed before your legs were placed over his shoulders and he was grinding into you, the angle allowing him to push even deeper. 

He fucked you steadily, his strokes deep, sharp and hard at times but alternating between a good medium of gentle and hard, your body quivering and shaking around him as he held you together, held you close to him when you came again, and then again soon after because you were just so sensitive all he had to do was rub your clit that time. 

It was everything you had wanted to experience, tears pricking at your eyes and a few pretty sobs racking your chest as Jon fucked you good, chasing his own release now that he felt satisfied you’d gotten yours. 

“Shh, shh I’m here baby. I know, fuck, I know. Are those good tears or do you need a break?” his soothing voice made you cry harder.

Because they were in fact good tears, tears of pleasure, because you were being fucked so good your body was responding in this way and his thoughtfulness and care for you was the cherry on top.

“G-good, they’re good. Please don’t stop, Jonny,” you pleaded, looking up at him for a moment and then down at where his dick was disappearing into you, the obscene sounds of your sopping hole driving you that much closer to another climax.

Jon swore under his breath at your confession, so unbelievably honored that you felt safe enough to be so vulnerable with him, and turned on at how pretty you looked crying for his dick, your pussy clenching around him in that familiar way that told him all he needed to know. 

Your body felt heavy, tired, sore already as you clung to his shoulders, your lips meeting again until before long his rhythm faltered a bit, his growls getting deeper as he hunkered down, his weight pressing into you, giving you a few more deep strokes before he was groaning out his release, your own gasp following as you felt him pulse inside you, relishing in the fact that he was filling you up with his cum. 

“Holy shit…” you caught your breath and laughed with him as you both collapsed against the couch, tired muscles aching. 

The sun had fully set now, inky blue and black filling the sky, the panting of your breaths filling the room, the movie that had been on the flatscreen long since over. 

You were both still a little high, giggling at how insane that just was, knowing you were both gonna remember this moment for a long time. 

“God, I love you. I’ve never cried like that during sex…” you chuckled against his chest, too spent to care that you were both sweaty now.

“Hmm you begged me so pretty I couldn’t help but give it to you good. You made me feel amazing too.” his nose nudged at your cheek and he dipped his mouth down to press a kiss to yours again, never tired of kissing you. 

Eventually you both agreed a shower was due and you hated to part your body from him but he made sure to keep you close as you got to cleaning up. 

“We should do that more often,” you thought out loud as the warm spray from the shower washed the sweat from your skin. 

Jon was behind you, a nip of his teeth, and a soothing kiss placed on your shoulder making you lean back into his sturdy frame. 

“You already know I’m down, just say the word whenever, baby. You know I’m yours.” 

Yeah, you never felt so damn lucky.

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A/N: This was insanely fun to write! I hope it’s just the right amount of filthy for y’all and cheers for my first ever Jon fic! 

Please reblog and comment, I’d love to hear your feedback! Thanks for reading!

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Some tags, no pressure: @babyyhoneyydarling​ @emilykjh​ @smut-angel​ @ozarkthedog​ @pipsqueakkitten​ @fluffyprettykitty​ @baesforbernthal​ @geniedetails​ @tgigoldie​ @existentialvacuum​ @harryfukkingstlyes​ @buckyhoney​ @write-fromthe-start​ @falconssweetgirl​ 

[wint3r-h3art]

Heyy I would like to request where after a long day the reader comes back home and she’s feeling exhausted and when she gets back Frank helps her feel more relaxed by massaging places on her body where she feels a little sore and as he’s doing that he leaves kisses along her back etc and that leads to a heavy make out session but Frank is so gentle with her and they have sex. Sorry is this is so detailed this was a scenario I was imagining😭😭😭❤️

I Got You | Frank Castle x Reader

warnings: fluff with soft smut. Established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex, creampied, implied size kink. Frank is being an absolute teddy bear of a boyfriend.

Word count: 1.6K

18+ ONLY | Minors DNI

A/N: Ah I absolutely love this scenario! Thank you so much for sending in Frank's request! I don't get him often! After I wrote this, I realized I forgot about the heavy making out part. I just went straight to the sexy time. I hope that’s ok! If you liked this, please comment or reblog. It means a lot, and it’s greatly appreciated.

Frank Castle Masterlist

Do not copy, translate, or repost my works anywhere else !! 

“Rough day?”

His voice croaked, pulling you out of your little thoughts as you turned after you put on his T-shirt. His eyes melted like molten dark chocolate. His mass frame overwhelmed the apartment's small bedroom. 

“Very tiring,” you replied lazily. “Is box mac and cheese ok with you? I just have no energy to cook today.”

Frank didn’t miss your tired voice. “Anything is good, sweetheart,” he said as he made his way to the bed. The soft mattress dipped by the weight of his massive frame. His large palm patted the spot in front of him. 

“Come here,” he said softly. The low rumble of his voice sent a slight tremor through your nerve like a gentle earthquake.

You did as he had asked, sitting yourself down right in front of him. Frank was sitting astride your body. You felt small compared to his larger body. His warmness permeated the air around you almost invitingly. He was your comfort and warmth.

Frank slowly massaged your shoulder, squeezing and kneading your flesh firmly. A throaty moan slipped past your lips and the sound made his cock jolt. He knew he shouldn’t get turned on by such a simple act as this, but your voice–God, your voice sounded like it was buried deep inside you.

Another pleasurable groan ripped from your mouth as he continued to work through your stiff muscles. You were clearly unaware of the sort of sinful things that came out of your mouth, and Frank was suffering for it.

Your eyes flew open when you felt his lips on the nape of your neck, kissing you almost gently, eliciting a deep hunger from within you. Your breath started to hitch in your throat as the ache between your thighs was growing prominent and insistent, throbbing not so subtly to your heartbeat. Your attention narrowed on his lips, pinpointing where he would kiss you next.

First, he was at the nape of your neck, then down to your shoulder. His large, calloused hands slipped underneath the oversized t-shirt, making your stomach do a flip as your heart began to raise. 

His rough palms skimmed over your stomach, then upward till he grasped both of your breasts. Only then you could feel yourself exhale shakily. Your body slumped against his and you wanted to moan by the way his distinct bulge was pressing against your back. He was rock hard. Your pussy throbbed needily as you imagined the way his cock fit so nicely into your tightness. You were aching to be stuffed by him.

Frank kneaded your breasts lazily as his lips were now on your shoulders. His rough fingers lazily twirled and twisted at your nipples until they were painfully taut. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked. Lust was evidence in his voice as he continued his assault upon your soft mounds. Slick began to gather at your pantie, soaking it through as your legs instinctively parted. 

Words failed you as you laid your head against his chest all the while that he worked you and strung you up like a tight chord. You could feel his hand slowly moving southward toward your throbbing heat. 

His fingers pressed firmly against your clothed slit, and you whined softly in his arms. Frank didn’t say a word as he continued to rub you shamelessly.

“Baby, you’re so wet for me and I barely touch you,” he murmured softly. His hot breath fanned against your ears, only making you become hyper-aware of his touches. 

“Look at this,” he said as he pressed his finger against your swollen clit. A soft, whiny cry fell from your lips as your legs threatened to close. 

“Keep your legs open or I’ll make you,” he warned. His tone only made you wetter if you weren’t drenching through your panties already. The dangerous edge in his voice thrilled you and made you want to do the thing he said not to do just to find out if he’d followed through with his threat.

Knowing Frank though, he didn’t like fucking around.

You complied willingly, spreading your legs apart to give him more access. Frank not so gently now pushed your pantie to the side and slipped two of his fingers inside you. A soft hiss left your lips and the suddenness. You didn’t push him away though as you welcomed his thick fingers, working your slick heat, pumping them at a slow, tantalizing pace.

He took his time with you, stroking you and filling you with his fingers as he nibbled the shell of your ear gently. 

“Fuck, look at how your pussy squeezes my fingers. Are you imagining me fucking you with my cock?”

You nodded, but Frank wanted you to say it, so he drew out his fingers all the way out before he pushed them all the way till he was knuckled deep inside your drenched heat. 

You let out a cry as your body jolted. “Yes, baby! Yes. I want you to fuck me with your big fat cock so bad,” you whined against his chest. 

You could feel Frank smirking against your shoulders before he withdrew his hand away from you, leaving you high and dry. You let out a protesting whine before you felt yourself being flipped over onto your back. His body covered yours in a matter of seconds before his lips found yours again, kissing you with a newfound urgency. 

His dexterous fingers worked their way around your pantie, slowly sliding it off you. You let out a hiss as the cold air hit your bare pussy, but Frank didn’t let you have time to think as he settled himself between your thighs. 

His hands slid underneath your ass, and he pulled you till your pussy was flushed against his bulge. Frank began to ground his hips against you, and you would have sworn your eyes were now rolling to the back of your skull as jolts of pleasure shot through you.

He was a fucking menace for teasing you and edging you like this. 

“Frank, baby, please,” you begged softly as you tried to grab onto the pillow with your might, but to no avail. You could feel yourself strung up tighter at the friction, but Frank was relentless. 

It felt like ages as you laid there when you knew it wasn’t that long. He was finally given into your soft pleading and begging. Frank finally had enough of the teasing. He pulled back slightly and slid the gray sweatpants down. Then his shirt was next, throwing it over his shoulder with little care. 

His mouth descended upon yours once more as you felt his hand begin your thighs, rubbing the fat head of his cock against your slick first before he pushed himself all the way inside you, making you moan in unison.

It always felt like the first time all over again by his sheer size. Your body felt like it was set ablaze from the inside before it melted into something more as pleasure began to course through you.  He always stretched you out so deliciously, stroking that hunger inside you.

He withdrew himself almost to the edge, then pushed deep inside you. His body was hard and forceful, his muscles taut, sending your body rocked against the bed. You fought to control the noise that threatened to escape from your mouth, though the effort was fruitless by the way he was fucking you so deep and hard. You barely have any sort of self-control left.

Your hands flew to his back, nails dug into his hardback. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to set the pace, setting your body on fire. Frank grunted deeply every time he thrust into you. He sounded so primal and so feral that all you did was let yourself go.

His cock somehow felt bigger as he thrust into you faster and wilder. You were both panting now as both of your bodies slicked with perspiration. Then his hand flew to the apex of your thighs, where both of your bodies joined.

Cupping your slick pussy, he squeezed and rubbed at the hard nub, not even bothering to be gentle anymore. 

“I got you baby. I got you,” he whispered almost sinfully.

His roughness drove you straight to the edge as your body ascended by the pleasure. Your wall fluttered around him, squeezing him till you let out a shout. 

You came around him hard as he continued to hammer into you. Your body arched off the bed as intense pleasure shot through you.

Frank groaned into your throat as his hips continued to drive into you as he gave you a few more thrusts, shoving his cock so hard up your inside that you felt like he might have rearranged your inside.

He cried out your name. It was deep and gravel almost like an animal. His body strained as he came inside you, spurting his hot cum inside of you, flooding you with nothing by his release.

You lay underneath him, panting. Your body felt heavy and sluggish as you bathed into the afterglow of your orgasm.

Eventually, Frank pulled himself out and laid his large body beside you. His soft brown eyes melted into you with devotion. A crooked smile etched upon his features as his fingers traced your cheek.

“Told you, I got you,” he said lazily. 

“I know, baby, and I've never doubted you.”

You turned and laid on his chest as he stroked your back. The tenderness made you want to cry because you know this moment is reserved only for you. 

[bloody-frank]

“fit problems” - frank castle x f!reader

summary: you wanna ride your boyfriend Frank for the first time, he helps you to get what you want.

warnings: dom!frank, daddy kink, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, a little degradation, dumbification, praise kink.

words: 1,138 words

note: hi! it’s my first fanfiction, please let me know if you like it; also, my first language isn’t english so i’m sorry for some mistakes. enjoy! :)

“i wanna ride it”

you are on the couch, with pink cheeks you say the words in one breath, a little afraid for his reaction, he always has been a dom, always in control, and you let him do whatever he wants to you; but  for some times you have thinked how it will be to ride him, to feel him under your shaking hands when..

"are you sure?" 

your toughts are interrupted by his words, he looks at you now with a serious look, you can't read his gaze but from the way he chews his cereal you understand his tension: cheeks tense, hand with spoon still in the air while impatiently waiting for your answer.

if you could bury yourself in that moment, you would.

“mh.. -you start stammering, looking at the floor that looks incredibly interesting now- i’d l-like to try to ride you... if you want...”

you can't look up, but you feel Frank's breath become more intense; with  almost no care he leaves the cup on the table, you gasps at the noise, as you see his boots approaching you. maybe he is mad?

he slowly places his big hand on your chin, lifts it up forcing you to look at him.

"Do you know what you're getting into, pretty girl?" 

his voice is low, you feel your kneese get weak.

you nod, eyes starts to feel lazy and wet. your body reacts to him everytime, without your permission. it’s like being inchanted by the most brutal serial killer. 

“i didn’t hear you.”

he says while he’s getting close, he looks at you like an alligator waiting to savor the blood of his prey. 

“i-i wanna ride you, daddy. please”

frank chuckles, amused.

“you’re already begging.”

you smile, proud to be under his control but he has already overwhelmed you in a heated kiss, hands everywhere, pushing you to his bedroom.

when you feel the soft sheets, you relax yourself playing with frank hair, as he kiss your neck and leaves marks behind them. you are already moaning and squirming, totally in love with him. he push his hand between your legs, starting to massage your clit. you see stars.

“you have to be ready, little girl” 

he push two fingers in you, you are moaning with eyes closed, almost a crying. 

you can feel his bulge on your thight, but he stops. you whine, and he lays down beside you, looking at you with sweets eyes. 

“c’mon baby, take what you want”

you bite your lips as you straddle him, still dressed; not sure about what to do, you never ride anyone, and he knows it. he was your first time, and he’s happy that you feel comfortable to try new things with him. you start to undress each other, intimacies collide making both of you moan.

when you free his cook, he let a whisper of relief escape from his lips; you massage him, feeling him getting harder with each stroke. taking him in your hand, you guide him to your clit. you moan, looking at him in the eyes. he is full of lust, heavy breathing. you start to push him to your entrance, but it doesn’t fit; you try again, and again, frustrated. you moan, almost with a cry, the new position makes your pussy almost closed.

“ssh baby, carefull -frank gently strokes your hair- you need patience.”

he looks at you with a soft smile, amused, and he starts to massage your clit to relax you; soft moans escape your lips, with your left hand you try to let him in. nothing seems to work, you whine with tears in your eyes. frank kisses your neck and grabs your hips, the lift you and lays you down on the bed. you protest, but he is stronger than you and pins you down on the sheets. 

“I'll show you how to do it, don't cry baby, I know you wanna jump on daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

you whine and nod in response, cock drunk. you feel your body shiver, it react to every touch. it’s almost hurting.

frank kiss your lips and starts to sink in you, the new position letting him in. you both moan together, in complete pleasure. you feel every inch on him, it’s big, so big, and hard. he starts to move, back and forth, slowly to let you get used to him. after few trusts you’re already a moaning mess, and you sob under him. 

he smiles and grabs your hips, lifting you up from the bed; you immediately grab his arms trying to keep your balance, he’s still buried inside you. you looks at him confused, but he lays down and you are now on top on him, hands on his chest, legs wide open. you are finally straddle him, the new position letting you without words, mouth open like an “o” without any sounds coming out. you feel him stretching you like it never happened. his cock it’s touching places that you didn't even know they existed. 

“oh god, frank -you moan, staying still on him- oh my god. i feel you”

he smiles proud, caressing your body.

“go on baby, you can do it”

with red cheeks you start to move, it’s hard; his cock is so big, you feel your walls hurt but it only adds more pleasure.

“my pretty little girl -his hands in your hair- she can’t take her daddy’s cock. she thought that she could take it, she forgot that she is too silly and small for this”

he looks at you with a sadistic smile, moving slowly his hips to meet your movements. you can’t help but whine and clench your walls around him with those words. he wraps his arms around you, like a snake, you don’t understand what you are doing anymore: your hips moves alone, faster, he moans looking at you, messed like that.

“fuck baby, i love you” 

he whispers, breathless; his trust are more intense, he can’t help it. you start to scream, unable to contain the firework that is exploding in your body. he pound in your pussy without mercy, you can feel him deeper with each trust.

“d-daddy! daddy!” 

you call him, moaning, grabbing his shoulders. you can’t even finish your sentence.

“i know baby, i can feel it. cum for daddy, you deserve it”

with a last moan, you cum on his cock while crying. he is slowly still pushing inside you, you can feel his warm seed on your walls, he came too with you.

frank looks at you, to be sure that you are okay.

“daddy has been too mean?” 

he chuckles, he likes to make fun of you after an intense session of sex. you whine lifting your eyes to the ceiling.

“fuck off daddy”

[strawhbrrries]

Invisible String.

pairing: older brother's best friend!frank castle x reader

summary: all along there was some invisible string tying you to frank castle.

warnings: none, just lots of sweetness!!!

word count: 1267 words

author’s note: this version of frank is so ken from barbie where it's like "ken's day was good as long as barbie looked at him" and i love it, listen to invisible string by taylor swift to get the full experience.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank’s eyes scanned your face, watching the way your nose scrunched when you laughed so hard it was silent and water was streaming down your face and the campfire in front of you warmed your face. He’d spent every single day since the two of you had met admiring you, watching your heart get broken from every guy you brought home, being the shoulder you could count on when all of your friends inevitability flaked out.  He could count all the times he tried to express his feelings on one hand, backing out at the last moment each and every time.

“What are you staring at? Weirdo.” You teased, scrunching your nose in the very way he found irresistible, making a face at him and turning back to the rest of your friend group. 

You loved Frank, more than any friend should love their best friend. You’d lost count of how many nights you’d spent crying to your mom over the phone, wondering why he just didn’t like you back and asking what you did to deserve this torture from the universe.

“Nothing.” He smiled back, catching the eye of your friend across the fire, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. He never tried to hide his affection for you, never tried to make it a secret to anyone but you, he was fully aware that everyone around the two of you was most likely aware of the crush he had on you.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

Frank was your, slightly, older brother’s best friend. He’d been around for as long as you could remember, in almost every photograph there was of you or your brother since your mom started printing photos out. But he never had that older brother feel that a lot of your brother’s friends had, it wasn’t that he was unreliable or careless. He was the opposite. He cared more than any of your brother’s friends normally did. Sure, they’d come to your rescue if a boy hurt you or if you needed a ride somewhere or if you just needed a pick me up.

Frank was different. He cared. If the boys were going out to dinner he almost always picked up something for you on the way back, the only times he didn’t was in respect for the girl he was seeing at the time. He’d slip a twenty in the pocket of the jacket you always wore if he knew you needed some extra money, or if he knew you needed cheering up. Even if he didn’t have a job he always did it, and he never regretted it. To him, what he thought was, unrequited love wasn’t an issue. He’d cross every ocean and move every mountain and act like it was the easiest thing to do, all just to get a hint of a smile aimed towards him.

Frank was only two years older than you, well technically two years and one day, and he’d never let you forget it. He’d tell you to respect your elders and you’d shoot back that he was definitely an elder and that you could see the gray hairs coming in. The day you were born your mom told his that you two were destined for each other, she swore she could tell just by the way the two year old held your fraile, hours old body. His mom would tell you on every birthday you were just one more year closer to becoming a Castle girl, telling you how you’d make the prettiest one too. You always rolled your eyes and thanked her for whatever she had gotten you that year.

Were there clues I didn’t see?

“Your mom keeps lecturing me on how to treat women, she acts like I’m whoring myself out like your brother is.” He rolled his eyes, washing the dishes in the sink. None of which were his, considering he was in your house at midnight doing the chores you’d been putting off for awhile.

“She just cares, Frankie.” You mumbled back, legs swinging as they hung off the counter next to the sink, watching him scrub at the residue left on a pan you should’ve definitely cleaned the same day you used it. 

You’d graduated college a few months ago, gotten the job of your dreams and yet felt so unfulfilled. You knew why. He was standing in your kitchen complaining about your mom, dish towel swung over his shoulder and shaggy hair pulled back by a headband you demanded he put on before he got stuff in his hair. Ever since you’d moved to this apartment he’d been over pretty much everyday, it felt odd without his presence in the house, it felt lonely without him. 

“I tell her every time, I only want one woman.” He responded, catching your eye as he took the towel off his shoulder to dry the dish he just washed.

“So tell the girl, there’s no use telling me about it if you haven’t told her.” Your heart felt heavy, no matter how many times he’d tried to hint at you that he was in love with you it just never clicked, it might as well had come out of your ass and slid across the floor with a giant sign proclaiming your love for him.

“It’s you.”

Isn’t it just so pretty to think…

“Mom it’s just an anniversary, there really isn’t a need to bring the whole family here. It’s just dinner.” You explained, not knowing she knew more than you.

The ring was in his pocket, lighting it on fire, burning a hole right through the fabric. Frank’s mind couldn’t comprehend that this was happening, it was really happening, after years of pining after you he was going to propose. 

All along there was some…

The day had finally come, you’d worked your ass off to get everything perfect and exactly the way you wanted it to be. Teenage you couldn’t believe you were standing here, actually about to become a Castle girl. You weren’t sure how both moms knew it was destined to be but you were glad they did, there wasn’t anyone else in the entire world you’d rather be doing this with. 

“I can still remember the first time your mom told me I was destined to be a Castle girl, I had rolled my eyes and scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. Why on earth would I want to marry my brother’s best friend? That seemed like torture. As the years went by it became something I couldn’t help but dream about, wondering how our relationship would come to be and if you had the intricate proposal I wanted down to the finest details. Every time you brought a girlfriend around, I hated you. Not really, but as much as a teenager full of angst and the world's largest crush on her brother’s best friend could muster. Then you matured, stopped bringing girls around and paid more attention to me. But you never made a move, I thought I was destined to be the little sister forever. But then, that one night in my kitchen you were complaining about how my mom kept lecturing you about how to treat women and you confessed your feelings. Stopped washing my dishes and gave me a kiss, it was surreal. Comparable to the ending of a coming-of-age movie. You’ve been around my whole life, Frankie, and all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.”

[ingstadstarlight]

Okay, this might be a flop, but I've had this idea for a while - after being a big fan of the Ancient times, the Viking series and etc., and at the same time watching a few days ago the Pilgrimage w/ Jon Bernthal, - I thought I might post it to see what people think. I am still working on other works as well, but we'll see if I can juggle so many things at once. AnywayZZ, this is a Frank Castle fanfic and I'll post more if anyone likes it.

XxO ✌️

Viking Frank Castle AU

Title: Heart of The Ocean

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No... for now. ;)

Category: F/M

Fandom: The Punisher (2019)

Relationship: Frank Castle/Reader ; Viking!Frank Castle/Original Female Character ; Frank Castle/You

Summary:

Frankulf couldn’t ignore the sound of the water. Calling him. Loving him.

He craved the freedom of the open ocean, the cool breeze on his face, the adventure that was promised. And the new lands. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but he wanted more.

Y/N hated death. She had been fighting death away for as long as she could remember. Hunted and mistreated by her own people, she found friends where everyone else saw enemies.

Two different worlds collide, finding the tender feeling through war. Can love prevail? What about trust?

[lordabovehelpme]

Pale Rider - Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

A/n: This is inspired by the song Pale Rider by the Heavy Horses. I completely recommend it! It literally is a song about Frank I kid you not. But yeah, please enjoy. Also tagging @peculiarpenman because they always inspire me to write more poetically. <3 I love you! 

Summary: There’s a man with no name who comes in the night, who sits in the same booth and orders the same black coffee. He reeks of violence and yet you feel safe, but you never break the silence. Until one night. Just make sure you don’t fall in love with the pale rider. 

Warnings: Afab! reader, SMUT (p in v), language, kissing, angst, some violence, panic attack, depression, but then back to fluff I promise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's a song that plays when you’re drying the clean glassware. There's a song that filters from the small speakers echoing through the empty booths and freshly mopped tiles.

There’s a song that becomes your only company when no one is in the small diner. There's a song that plays when there's no one but him.

He comes in the off hours, when the highway outside is bare and lonesome, when the other servers have left and it’s only you and the sleeping cook on the kitchen stool.

He pulls up in a black van, parks in the same spot, a little far from the entrance, but close enough he can watch it from his booth three shy from the door.

You know he’s passing through, he never stops for more than an hour. Ordering simple black coffee, no cream, no sugar, in the same mug with the chipped handle. The same booth, the same unreadable expression, the same scrunch to his nose with every sip.

You don’t know why he stops every few weeks. There's nights where he’s seemingly normal, hood pulled high over his head. But then there's nights where he’s covered in dirt and bruises and blood. You’d have to be pretty dumb to not notice the handgun tucked in his waistband.

He always leaves without a word, just a wad of cash that doubles the price of the coffee, and a simple nod towards you.

It’s enough to buy your silence and hush your pressing questions.

Until one night.

It’s a Friday night, a couple teenage couples share milkshakes while pressing up against one another. But they leave good tips so you don’t have the heart to imagine what's going on underneath the table.

There’s two guys that spare you no thought after you only politely smiled at their not very work friendly comments. Especially after you accidently spilled scalding coffee onto one of them. They grumble and order a breakfast meal while silently conversing with one another.

It’s late enough the regulars have gone home, the only customers being the ones the road brings in and maybe just maybe you’ll be able to use the mug with the chipped handle.

The bells chime above the door, a familiar sound making your head rise to find a familiar face.

A small smile unconsciously works onto your face as the hooded figure nods towards you and heads to the booth three from the door. You practically drop what you’re doing to get his chipped mug, stashed away in a safe space.

Grabbing the coffee pot your motions halt for a second. Questions ringing out through your head, asking why you’re so happy to see him, why he makes your heart flutter, why you feel so safe with him.

Shaking your head and shushing the little voice that echoes insecurities, you walk over to him.

He shrugs his hood off, brown eyes lifting to meet your own. Your breath leaves your chest at his gaze.

Eyes that are soft and warm and somewhat sorrowful. Eyes that have lived and seen and felt. Eyes that have fought and conquered and lost.

You smile and set the mug down, pouring the hot liquid into it.

“Freshly brewed.” Winking as you add, “just for you.”

His lips pull into a grin and you turn to walk away but then he utters, “Thank you ma’am.”

His voice thunders through your soul, shaking your bones and sending lightning through your veins. It sounds just how you thought it would, deep and timbre, yet gentle and as if scared he's too loud.

You’re not sure what noise leaves your lips, but it definitely wasn't human. Heat licks up your neck, thoughts running haywire as the corners of his eyes crinkle, amused at your response.

Simply nodding, you rush away, your voice failing you as your heart hammers.

Things go back to normal. The teenagers leave. Sticky strawberry milkshake left on the table, but at least they stacked the plates.

You can feel his eyes on you, watching as you wipe away crumbs. Gazing as you sweep the floor. Studying as you flash a smile his way before vanishing behind the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“Some dishes.” You alert on reflex, but fall quiet when you remember you're by yourself. 

The older cook left about an hour ago, after you repeatedly told him you have everything under control and that his wife must miss him, plus it would be best if he slept in his bed rather than on the stool.

It’s the same fight every night. He hates to leave you even as you usher him to his truck. He reminds you of the pistol underneath the register and you smile and hug him. He always looks at you with wisdom and a hand on your shoulder, “Be safe mija.”

There’s a bang from the diner like someone hit a table and then voices start speaking. Your back straightens and you rush towards the swinging doors.

One of the men from before is approaching your hooded figure. Your heart drops. Your eyes scan towards the gun beneath the counter. He reaches into his jacket pocket, your feet start to move to the counter. He starts to pull out-

An arm wraps around your waist, a hand thrown over your mouth before you can scream. You frantically fight his hold, turning in his arms as much as you can. Throwing your weight side to side in any attempt to be freed.

He marches you through the swinging doors and the hooded man's eyes meet your own, fear washing over them like ice water before snapping back to his cold calculating stare.

Tears start to build as you notice the gun being shoved towards him. You fight against the hold again, no’s muffled and desperate as you try and plead.

A hand slaps across your face, a ring biting into your skin and bursting your eyebrow.

“Be quiet bitch.”

Everything stops. No one moves.

And then it all happens at once.

A shot is fired, the hooded man strikes, the hands around you tighten and then fall away.

You stumble forward, blinking away tears, and suddenly you're in another pair of arms.

Instinstics run wild, you start fighting and shoving and “hey hey it’s me sweetheart.”

Relief crashes over you as you recognize the black cotton before you, the spicy deodorant, the large hands rubbing up and down your back.

You look up and are met with the most beautiful brown eyes.

“Are you okay?”

His thumb traces the edge of your jaw, running up by your ear, and wiping the blood away from your eyebrow.

Silently, you nod, transfixed on being so close to him; your nerves still trying to figure out what happened and where you are.

“Yeah? You got a first aid kit?”

He lets you lead him slowly towards the bathroom. Lets you fist the cotton of his shirt as you look down to the two men. Lets you scan his face as you try and gauge what he is while he wipes his hands of blood.

You let him wash and bandage the cut on your eyebrow. Let him hold your thighs as his eyes dance over your features. Let him wordlessly care for you.

“Are you okay?” He repeats, this time not willing to take silent nods for an answer.

What is he? Why were these men after him? Is he dangerous? Are you in danger?

You know you should shy away, should flee from his hold, should escape while you can. But you can’t stop seeing the look of fear in his eyes when he saw you.

He holds you with such tender care, tough and worn skin now gentle and soft. His eyes gaze into your own, searching for something… anything.

That terrified look that he flashed your way is enough to tell you he’s okay. Enough to tell you he can be trusted. Enough to tell you that he’s human.

“I’m… I’m okay… are you?”

His eyes shift away, his tongue darts out to wet the corner of his mouth, “Yeah,” his right hand flexes on your thigh, “I’ve seen worse.” It’s softer, almost like he wasn’t expecting you to ask.

You reach out and press your right hand against his cheek, it looks miniature holding his head.

He’s strong. He’s powerful. He’s safe.

An intense want… need washes over you, like big swells crashing along the sandy shore, abrupt and deafening.

Maybe it’s the frazzled ends of your nerves, the frightened and heightened aire to your movements. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve imagined this very scenario a thousand times before.  

Your lips collide to his, like magnets being pulled to one another.

There’s a half second, an hour long half second where he does nothing. Silent and still and stoic. A half second that's long enough for the insecurities to bubble up, the thoughts to start ringing like tsunami sirens.

What are you doing? You forced yourself on him. He doesn’t even like you. No one does.

A strong hand cups the back of your head and he breathes into you, lips melding to your own.

His nose smashes against your cheek, his lips smear across your mouth, his breath seals away the little voice. Thoughts washing from your mind as it’s flooded with him and only him.

“Do-” your breathing is loud in your ears, your eyes stay shut, your hands can’t leave his form, “do you want to come back to my place?”

***

Sheets crumple at the base of your bed, clothes strewn across the room, the black van parked in your driveway.

It’s overwhelming. He fills your senses, fuels the fire raging throughout your veins.

His fingers dance over your skin, pushing and pulling at your flesh. His lips map out every curve and blemish on your body, teeth scraping as his breath fans across you. His dick slides in and out, punching something vital inside you, something that makes you curl up and scream out.

Your voice sounds small in your ears, begging and whining and gone dumb for him. Your fingers dig into his flesh, your legs wrapping around his hips and pushing your heels into the strength of his butt. You want him closer, want him to put all his weight on you, want him to crush you beneath him.

He grabs your chin, holding it firm and gentle. His eyes stare into your own, commanding you to look at him, to give yourself to him. It’s intimate and suddenly a different type of overwhelming… something allconsuming.

You know it strikes him too because those deep eyes soften, looking far into your soul, searching for something you’re unsure of. Then they shift down to your mouth, lips parted and coated in him, claimed by him.

His forehead touches yours and he stops.

It’s still.

A calm in the raging waves. The center of a pond's ripple. The hush of a single falling raindrop.

He breathes in as you breathe out, surrounding himself in you, tying an invisible knot between your souls.

Then his hips move again. Knocking a gasp from your lips.

He leans down, lips pressing against yours no longer in a fierce hot-blooded need, but rather a gentle and almost loving caress. A kiss that slows everything down, coats your movements in molten honey, makes your heart bloom with warmth. A kiss that tells of passion, intimacy, and something akin to love.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, his nose nudges into your neck.

Flames build within your heart, his voice calls your name.

Ecstasy floods your nerves, his lips press against your own.

Just like that sweetheart. There you go. Come for me. Sing for me.

All for me. Just for me. Only for me.

***

It’s comfortable and safe.

His fingers drift across your shoulder, soft and not fully there. He’s lost behind his thoughts, mind somewhere else.

You’ve melted into him, back pressed against his naked chest. Your heart beats strong, still calming down and somehow you know it never fully will. Your own gaze misted and taken by thought.

You take his free hand into your own, turning it over and tracing the lines along his palm, scratching at the permanent scars on his knuckles.

His breath hitches, quiet and barely noticeable. It’s intimate and soft and makes you wonder if you stepped too far.

But you’ve already gone this far. 

Laid yourself bare for him. Cracked open your ribs one by one and let him prod at your heart. Torn the muscle out and gave the pulsing pieces to him as a gift, an offering.

All for him. Just for him. Only for him.

You tilt back, head leaning against him so your eyes can find his features, find his eyes already on yours.

There’s something startling in the way he looks at you. 

Skin scared and telling tales of pain, a strong nose that's been broken multiple times, sharp jawline growing dark scruff. His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, his heart beating strong behind your back, deep brown eyes that seem to look into your soul.

They speak silent words, words that you're unable to translate, words that mean millions to him.

His eyebrows furrow, only slightly. You’re learning that little tells weigh heavily into reading his thoughts.

Those brown eyes leave your own, trailing down your form to where you still have his hand, large and strong and worn in your hold. After a second, his thumb moves, featherlight and almost afraid as he traces your fingers. His eyes cloud over, lost again to thought.

Neither of you speak, too scared to break the silent spell.

You stay like that for what seems like both years and seconds.

All too soon and too delayed, he leans over and turns the light on your nightstand off, a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

You fall asleep like that, pressed against the chest of the man with no name.

Safely secured between the thighs of the man with no name.

Hands still wrapped around the big paws of the man with no name.

***

The next morning the only trace of him, the only evidence besides the memories is the note with scrawled letters left beneath the light next to the sweating water glass.

Stay safe Sweetheart. - F

***

You tried to not think of him. Tried to forget the stab in your chest when you woke up alone.

But the thought of him, the memory of his lips trailing up your spine, his hands tugging your ass, the hushed praise, it echoes through your head.

Gnaws away at your will power.

A fierce hunger that feasts at your soul.

You’re not sure why you’re so hurt about it. Not sure what you were expecting or wanting from him. It’s the classic one night stand leave before they wake up. So why are you disappointed? Why did you expect more? Why did you so easily give yourself to him?

Why do you desperately want more?

***

You’re softly humming along to the radio when the cook turns the television on to the news. Voices flow through the small diner about the weather and then the voices turn more hurried.

“... multiple gangs being hunted down by precise and strategic hits. Many of us are wondering just what army or gang could be doing this, but the answer is not whom but rather who.”

You set the broom to the side and frantically reach for the TV remote, the voices growing louder and lighting up the walls from where it sits in the corner. Pictures flash across the screen, some blurred, some not.

A gasp leaves your mouth.

“That’s right, this is being done by one man. Is the ghost of the Punisher back to torment us all once again?”

A fuzzy picture of a hooded man overtakes the screen and your eyes widen, the remote falls from your grasp.

It’s him.

It has to be him.

Suddenly the dots connect, the scars, the gun… the men.

He was on a mission.

You were just a simple stop along the way.

“Mija… you okay?” The cook asks in his heavy Spanish accent, worry overtaking his aging face.

Looking at him, your head nods but no words can leave your mouth.

Your heart already shattered on the floor.

A red and orange map pops up, showing pins as to how far he has covered the country. The story continues, detailing his committed crimes.

The TV goes dark, forgotten remote in the cook's hand as his eyes scan over your frame.

“No more mija.”

He nods and trails back to the kitchen, black doors swaying after his departure, the radio soon turned back to the normal channel.

Familiar lyrics flood the diner, never ringing truer than now.

Ride to town, shoot 'em up, and keep on going. Cause I got a job to do and I don't stop for no one.

***

Days pass and each time the bells chime above the door your breathing stops, waiting for that hooded figure to walk through, but he never does.

You know it shouldn’t, but your heart drops in disappointment. He became part of your routine, you expected to see him, kept his mug tucked away for when he did show up.

A flickering hope that he might be on your doorstep when you return home each night.

An even smaller want for him to return to your sheets and touch you like he did, full of desire and as if the night would never end.

Maybe it’s for the best, he is dangerous after all. Best to get him out of your head. Yet even as hard as you try, you can’t break free of the invisible knot. Each attempt at running only tightens the link, let’s it dig harder into your soul. 

A constant ache that mercilessly reminds you of what once was. 

Rumors spread through the local town, it’s small and overly friendly, word traveling as easily as sickness. His name is whispered through lips, as if scared he’ll appear if they speak it too loud.

“Did you hear he killed over the Mexican border?”

“It’s one more killing to the man that has no name.”

“I think he’s doing good, wiping the land of those gangstas that think they're all that and a bag of chips.”

“He’s unforgiving.”

“It’s one more bullet to the man that has no name.”

“Who says he won’t come here and clean us away?”

“Jerry, is there something you’re trying to tell us?”

“I’m just one more life, for him it’s all the same.”

“Just get your gun, and kiss your wife, and lock up your daughter.”

“Yeah… don’t let her fall in love with the Punisher.”

***

You’ve watched the news, listened to the customers, ears perking for anything related to him. Something inside you wants to know he’s okay, but something else wants to make sure he’s far away.

You can’t deny the hurt you felt the morning after, the stabbing force that still throbs. The tears you shed and wipe away.

What would you even do if he showed up? Flee? You’d probably not make it that far to be honest. Question him? Yeah, as if he’d answer. Kiss him? What the fuck?  

Shaking your head you clear the plates on the table, grabbing the few dollar bills left on the table for you. It’s not much, not nearly as much as he would always leave. You’ve had to cut back on spending a little bit.

Your heart tugs at the mention of him. The invisible knot tightening and starting to choke.

Late nights are filled with scavenging for anything related to him.

Court cases, police reports, mugshots pop up with seemingly no end. Your breath lodges in your throat as your eyes scan headlines, eyes tracing the features of your hooded man.

You watch videos, conflicted between anger and sorrow. You learn his story, the warrior he was, the father, the villain, and finally… the ghost.

Minutes turn into hours and into sleepless nights as you ponder, wondering why he chose this path, why he chose you, why he left. 

His scrawled handwriting untouched on your nightstand all these days past.

***

Everyone knows he’s alive. A dash cam of him sliding over a car's hood playing across all channels.

You knew first. Heart rigged to him like an addict to a drug. Any small piece of knowledge to fuel the insatiable desire.

He looks the same. You don’t know if you’re happy, angry, or repulsed.

Your fingertips run along the hem of your dress. The man across the candlelit table passionately talks about his business and the next big thing in the stock market. You were interested in the first five minutes, but thirty more and you’ve tuned out.

Smiling when prompted, you sip at your wine, wishing it was something stronger. Your eyes run along the man's face, watching as his eyebrows raise with every hard syllable. 

His didn’t. 

What no, stop, you’re not here for him. You’re here to forget.

“So tell me, what tickles your fancy sweetheart?”

It doesn’t sound right from his lips.

***

One little date turns into a few and suddenly you have a boyfriend.

Part of you knows it is wrong. Selfish and cruel to lead him on and let him be a sad replacement for your hooded figure.

But he takes you out for dinner each week and lets your heart be distracted from the booth three shy from the door, lets your eyes drift away from the road in search of a black van.

He visits the diner, ironed work clothes wrinkled from a hard day's work sitting in a chair and talking about golf. A chaste kiss to your lips and a harsh pat to your butt. 

It makes your stomach churn. But the sight of the mug with the chipped handle reminds you that it could be worse.

Stay safe sweetheart. - F now crumpled and thrown from your nightdesk. 

Rejected like garbage in an irate rage as you screamed into your pillow, mascara painted along your cheeks like a Monet. Your voice horse from cursing him and then softly pleading with the universe and finally just quietly sobbing, alone. 

The wrinkled paper mocking you from the corner, rejected just as you were.

“How about a beer for your man sweetheart?”

It’s vile and repulsive and completely wrong.

But the disgust covers the loneliness.

***

Days start to melt together. The Punisher no longer in the forefront of the news, his story old and no longer the talk of the century. Merely a story told to children to frighten them out of sneaking candy in the night.

The disgust washes away into annoyance.

It builds. Slow but steady, each time you’re called the hated nickname is like another drop to the ever filling bucket.

“My girl.” Drip.

“Darling.” Drip.

“Sweetheart.” Drip drip drip.

The flow you once had to your motions now muddled and thick. You used to always have a smile, but now you can hardly fake one. The cook watches with concern as you slowly clean the diner. He offers you toothy smiles but you can’t return them.

“Fuck, I need a beer, long day today.” Your boyfriend sits down in the booth three from the door.

He can’t sit there.

That’s not his spot.

“C’mon sweetheart, chop chop.”

No.

Don’t call me that.

You can’t call me that.

I’m not your sweetheart.

“Sweetheart?”

No.

You can’t breathe.

Stop.

You can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t fucking move.

Get out.

Get out.

Sirens ring in your head loud and piercing and overwhelming.

Get out.

Get out.

“Get out.” It’s a whisper.

“Get out.” It’s a yell.

“Get out!” It’s a command.

His eyes are wide, startled, “What do you mean sweetheart?”

“Don’t fucking call me that! Get out!” You point at the door, you’re yelling and screaming, and you still can’t breathe. Sucking in air and yet it does nothing to give you oxygen.

“Get out! Get out of here! Get out of town! Get out of my life!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understa-”

“I’m not your sweetheart! I never was!”

He leaves the booth three shy from the door, his gray convertible leaving the parking lot, the radio soft in the background.

Your chest heaves, finally able to suck in air.

Tears stream down your face, the bucket tipped over and empty.

The crumpled note rests in the strength of your palm, clenched safely between your fingers.

The cook brings you into his arms, holding you for as long as you need while you shake and sob.

“Go home mija.”

Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.

***

Weeks pass, you feel better.

Things go back to how they were. Before your boyfriend, who you haven't seen since.

The regulars compliment you on your refound smile, happy to have you back in high spirits. It fills a void in you.

The teenagers with their sticky milkshakes and shared fries. The old men who talk about their day back on the farms. The old ladies who gossip and try to set you up with their grandsons even though they know your heart belongs to someone else. The cook goes back to sleeping at his stool.

The note, now wrinkled and worn, rests back on your nightdesk. Where each night you trace the letters and try to remember his voice in your head.

It’s the last part of him you have and you wish had thrown it out. You know it’s the final thing holding you back. Like a recovering smoker with the last cigarette in their breast pocket. A sick reminder of what pleasure once was, what happiness felt like.

But now you can’t. Emotionally attached and still holding onto the sliver of hope. Maybe you were enough. Maybe your memory could entice him back. Maybe he feels what you do.

The invisible knot which once choked and suffocated now a craving, a part of you.

The booth three shy from the door empty in waiting, the black van nowhere in sight, the chipped mug set aside and untouched.

Until one day.

Sunny and bright, with a fresh breeze in the air. Your skirt flutters beneath your apron, your smile a little wider, your heart expecting for something you’re unsure of.

The bells above the door chime.

Your heart stops.

“Hey sweetheart.”

You’re wrapped into a safe embrace.

Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you all liked this one! I’m super duper proud of it so please let me know! Seriously, I love hearing what you all have to say or think!  

As always, 

Love, Lordy :) 

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[harttiklr]

*Jon Bernthal/Reader story - part 2*

This is part 2 of the first person pov fanfic story between Jon x you/reader.

Available on my blog and on AO3.

tags: 18+, Minors DNI, Jon Bernthal/You, Reader, Alternate Universe, first person POV, male-female exclusive, Slow Burn, Fluff/Smut, Porn With Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Consensual Sex, DaddyDom, Sugar Daddy, daddy kink, Dom/sub, Praising, Aftercare, Safe Engagement, Cussing, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Cum Swallowing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Simultaneous Orgasms, Spanking, Punishment, Name Calling, Some Angst/Anxiety

Summary:

This is the second part to the story, told in the first person POV, which continues following you/reader/narrator and your relationship with AU/Jon Bernthal, the owner/CEO of a profitable business that has taken over the company you work for, and whom the narrator/reader has begun a sexual relationship with involving his being your sugar daddy/daddy dom.

Notes:

There is a story that surrounds the explicit sexual elements, and it’s become as much a part of the plot as the sexual scenarios have. Once again, this is my version of a Daddy Dom/sub relationship. If it doesn’t conform to your idea of “established rules” for that relationship dynamic, feel free to move on. This is way I wanted to tell it. This is Alternative Universe; therefore, Jon does not have the family or life he lives IRL. Again, the description of the narrator/i.e – reader and Jon are kept intentionally vague so the reader can decide image or name for themselves and in order to allow the reader to visualize the Jon look they’re most attracted to. Enjoy!

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Stitches // BONUS

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: It's mother's day!

Warnings: mention of smut at the end

This is very short and sweet <3 Happy Mother's Day to all mothers, aunts and caregivers out there today!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 BONUS

MASTERLIST

---

"Happy mother's day Mariah." 

Frank placed a bouquet of her favourite flowers on her grave, kissed the tips of his fingers and touched her headstone. Although he now had a lovely lady waiting back at home for him and a new family of his own, he'd never forget the three that were no longer there with him.

"Dada..dada.." Rowan babbled away in his father's arms, pinching Frank’s cheeks with his chubby hands.

"Alright buddy, let's go." 

Leaving the cemetery behind, Frank headed for his truck to strap Rowan into his seat and got in before pulling away from the curb. He left Y/N in bed this morning to get her some flowers and a few other things to surprise her with during the course of the day. Frank wanted her to sleep in today without any disturbances hence he brought Rowan along with him.

The drive home wasn't a long one, Frank pulled up to the curb and killed the engine before getting out to get to his son as well as the stuff he bought.  Rowan had spent the entire drive back babbling and squealing in delight while he played with his toy that played music with each button he pressed. Frank swore he was going to shove that toy down Foggy's throat whenever he saw him again.

Once the front door was shut behind them, he placed the toddler on the ground and handed him the bouquet of white lilies.

"Take this to mummy, Row." Frank whispered to the child who eagerly walked off to the dining table where Y/N was having her cup of coffee.

"Mum..mum." 

"Oh my goodness, thank you baby." Y/N took the bouquet from his tiny hands and kissed his cheeks before he could run off to play with his toys in the living room. Frank walked over to her and tipped her head back using his thumb and index finger.

"Happy mother's day sweetheart." 

"Thank you." He leaned down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss. 

"Get a room you two." Amy joined the pair at the table causing them to break apart as she wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck from behind, kissing her cheek in the process.

"Happy mother's day, thank you for being such a great mom to Rowan and I, love you Y/N." 

"I love you too Amy." 

"I got you a few other things." Frank placed the bag in front of her and she dug through the contents. He'd gotten her the chocolates she loved as well as some other things she'd been craving for lately. 

"I appreciate it. Now, who's hungry?" Amy took that as her cue to get started on breakfast, brushing off Y/N’s offer to help.

"Just know that this was the savory gift I could've given you around those two. Tonight you're all mine." Frank lightly nibbled on her ear, teasing her. 

Y/N bit down on her bottom lip just thinking about the sex that they were going to have once they went to bed for that night.

"You're such a tease Mr. Castle." 

---

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