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#the punisher x reader
fandomhcs · 2 days
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dating frank castle would include:
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frank castle doesn’t do anything half assed. that includes a relationship. you may have a hell of a time actually getting him into one, but once he is he’ll never waver.
he would struggle between being the punisher and being frank, the man who loves you. though he fully understands that you can that care of yourself, he wants to keep his life as the punisher far away from you. of course its not always possible, but he wants to keep you as safe he can. rest assured, as long as he’s there nothing can touch you. he’d stop anything, give up anything, to keep you safe. 
losing maria and the kids changed him, broke him apart and forced him to scramble to gather any pieces he could. losing you now, after facing all of that loss and all that pain? no way he could handle that. 
and so he’s overprotective, he’s paranoid, he’ll check and double check the locks on your windows and doors until you drag him to bed. while the two of you don’t leave the house together too often, when you do he makes sure to keep you no more than an arm’s length away at all times.
his paranoia is the biggest source of fights in your relationship. he isn’t one for conflict, despite being the punsiher and all. fighting with you is different, and he doesn’t like it when it happens. often times you’ll have it out with each other only for him to go quiet, swallow his pride and take some time to calm down before he can come talk out the problem with you.
but outside of the danger, when things are quiet and peaceful between the two of you there is no sweeter man than frank castle. he’s head over heels for you, it’s easy to see. in his eyes you are everything he never thought he’d have again. sure, he may not have the whole wife, kids, white fence type of life with you. he may never be ready for that, but being with you feels like coming home. it scares him how good it feels to have a place, a person, he can call home again.
movies nights and television marathons are a must. the second you are both home for the night he’ll wrap you up in his arms and drag you to the couch for cuddles. though he isn’t too big on pda, in the privacy of your home he just can’t help himself. 
he lives for the small touches. holding your hand, forehead kisses, fingers grazing your shoulders as he passes by you. its a reminder, every time he feels your skin under his fingertips. a reminder that you are there, with him, safe and sound and alive.
you make him smile. force him to watch stupid comedies or over dramatic soap operas that you both get waaayy too invested in. he makes you try your coffee black, does the dishes for you before you get up in the mornings, keeps you trapped in his arms whenever you try to get up for food. 
he cooks for you sometimes. a lovely surprise that comes out of nowhere. the big bad punisher? popping out with restaurant quality meals all because you’d had a shitty day at work and needed a pick-me-up? that’s art. he doesn’t cook often, but when he does it is magical.
though as far as your cooking, he’ll eat literally anything. you could burn it to coal and he’ll eat it with a smile. he might make fun of you for it, but you’ll see him finish his plate no matter what. he’s a dork like that.
you both whisper your secrets underneath warm sheets with one of his hands tapping a chaotic rhythm on your shoulder and the other gripping your fingers tight. he tells you their names. maria. lisa. frank jr. he tells you of their laughter, their toys, their lives. and he tells you of their deaths, tears spilling from his eyes as he breaks into your arms. your heart breaks with him, but being able to share them with someone who loves him, and by extension loves and respects them too, is such a weight off his shoulders.
they’re ghosts, but not the kind that haunt. the kind that leave your chest aching but also a soft smile on your face. they don’t plague him anymore, he is finally able to think of them without his world going dark. they’ll always be in his heart, he’ll never allow himself to forget them, but you help him realize that he can have happiness once again. 
life is perfectly boring with frank, something he forgot just how much he’d missed. you bring peace into his life, even though he never wanted you to. but he’ll be forever grateful that you did. this man will love you with a passion and an intensity that you’ll find nowhere else.
that is, if you can handle his snoring.
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amhrosina · 8 months
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Be My Baby
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Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k
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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!
warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.
From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.
The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.
“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”
Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.
“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.
“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.
“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.
“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.
“Hang on. I brought something for you.”
“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.
He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.
The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.
“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 
He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.
“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”
You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.
“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”
You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.
“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.
“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”
“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 
“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”
“And you stayed.” You finished for him.
“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”
This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.
“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.
“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.
“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”
He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”
You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.
“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”
Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.
A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.
“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.
“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 
He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 
“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.
“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”
“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”
That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.
The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 
“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”
“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”
You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.
“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 
He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 
Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 
You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.
You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”
“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”
“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”
He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 
“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”
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Can I get a whiskey with Frank castle and “I don’t deserve you” please?
Multi Talented.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
haven't written frank in so long!! thank you for requesting <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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"Oh fuck, Frank."
You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, eliciting a groan from the man who's broad shoulders are keeping your legs apart.
"Shit, Frank. Just- I just - fuck, give me a minute to just-"
Your back arches off the bed as he sucks particularly hard, teeth grazing over your clit. You're panting, chest heaving, hands scrambling for purchase. You're not sure if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer.
He's doing this thing with his tongue, making it difficult for you to breathe. There are silver stars floating in front of your eyes, blurring your vision, shifting your reality.
The city outside hurries on, sirens and car horns soundtracking the night. The room is dark except for the light of the streetlamps, illuminating the shining purple bruise on Frank's cheekbone.
He pulls away to mutter under his breath, barely audible. You wouldn't hear if you weren't so in tune with everything he says or does.
"That's it, pretty girl."
"Atta girl. You got it."
"Yeah. Good fuckin' girl. So good f'me."
His low, raspy tone is what sends you over the edge, gasping as his fingers curl just right. You see salvation in your release, the universe white hot and blinding.
"Where did you learn to do that?" you ask breathlessly, relaxing back against the sheets.
"Told ya I know a few things," he chuckles, crawling up your body so you're face to face.
You kiss him eagerly, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself.
"I don't deserve you," you laugh.
"Let me show you how much you deserve me," he whispers against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs to part them for him again.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 20 days
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hope you having a good day/night 💘
frank having a wet dream (i’m not a native speaker i’m not sure if it’s called this, i’m sorry) about reader and when it’s just about to endddd….reader wakes him up cos obviously he was grunting, sweating and moving a lot in his sleep so she thought he was having a nightmare and she’s worried about him…(my horny brain just died here so i’m leaving the rest of it to you)
a/n: this maaaaaaaannnn 🫠
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Frank? Baby, wake up,” your sprawled-out fingers gently swept over his broad shoulder, “it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare.”
On a sharp intake of oxygen, Frank stirred from his slumber. Blinking open his dark eyes to see you staring back at him, your cheek smooshed against your pillow, only a second passed before his touch slid up to the sides of your face as he longingly let his forehead melt against your own. 
“Wow,” you uttered softly as he crawled closer, “are you okay?” 
“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly before crashing his lips against yours. 
Out of pure surprise, a palm came up to press against his chest as you grasped the first sliver of a break to tilt your head back enough to search his eyes in the low moonlight, “Frank?”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone as his gaze all but ate you up. 
“Frank, you don’t have to act all tough around me, you know that–,” but the rest of your sentence fell from your lips as he rolled on top of you and the palpable tent in his boxers pressed against your thigh, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks, “not a nightmare, got it,” a small chuckle bubbled out of you, “I guess I’m sorry then for waking you up.”
“It’s alright,” he dipped down to press a kiss to your jaw, “dreams are fun and all,” his pecks slowly began to migrate further south, “but I’d much rather have the real deal,” holding onto the covers that draped over you both, he flashed you a small smirk before his head disappeared beneath it.
“Frank…” you let out a laugh as he moved down your body, caressing your curves before his head settled between your soft thighs, “was it about me?” you held the top of the duvet up for you to see him, “did you have a sex dream about me?”
Cocking his head, he said, “why do you sound so surprised?” and pressed a hot kiss to the very top of your inner thigh, “they’re always about you.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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chvoswxtch · 2 months
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what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍
oh my darling sweet nonnie
I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it
being married to frank castle
i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind
he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted
you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint
your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another
you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*
frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky
I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in
he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax
he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day
anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart
he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can
he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home
he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort
frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart
he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch
he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face
to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you
bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes
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joybabyjune · 1 month
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Jealousy
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Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader (Matt Murdock has a tiny role too)
Summery: You’ve been casually sleeping with Frank for a while now, but you decide you need something more stable and go on a date with Matt (who you don’t know is Daredevil). Frank shows up on your date to show you who you belong to (maybe in a public bathroom 🙊) and to show Matt to back off 😈.
Warnings: Explicit (minors dni!!!), semi public, unprotected piv, oral (m receiving), little bit of praise kink (good girl, attagirl), little bit of degradation kink (slut, whore), dirty talk, tiny bit of exhibition kink, sort of cuckolding Matt. Think that’s it, feel free to let me know if I missed anything!
Author’s note: This idea was stuck in my head for so long and I finally finished it! I hope you guys like it. I would love to hear what you guys think, so reading notes will make me happy! And if you really like it, please reblog so others can enjoy as well. You’ll make my day and it’s completely freeee.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language ✌🏼
Masterlist
You’re sipping on your second beer while you chat and laugh with Matt. After working together for over a year now, he finally asked you out.
Matt is a good guy. He’s everything you should want in a man. Reliable, kind, not a murderer on the run for law enforcement that most people think is dead... You mentally kick yourself for thinking about Frank while on a date with Matt. There’s no future with Frank. You shouldn’t want him. You need someone more stable in your life, someone like Matt.
“You okey?” Matt asks sensing your mind is elsewhere.
“Eh.. Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. You were saying?” You ask, shaking your head as if you’re shaking the thoughts of Frank from your brain.
“That this new client is really gonna make a difference for Nelson and Murdock..” He continues talking, but your mind drifts again while you look around the cozy, dark bar at all the people who decided to get drinks tonight. There’s a few couples, a group of co workers who look like came straight from their office jobs, a few middle aged men at the bar that you feel safe to assume are regulars and then your heart stops for a second as you see him.
Frank Castle is sitting at a table by the window, sipping on a beer. Your eyes widen when you make eye contact and he nods at you as a way of saying hello. You wave back almost nervously. How is he out here in public?
“Want another beer?” Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him.
“Eh, y-yeah, thanks.” You say. You’re so glad that your date is blind and didn’t see your interaction with the criminal he told you to watch out for.
What you don’t know is that Matt has already sensed Frank from the moment he entered the bar. He has been noticing his smell on you for the past months as well and it doesn’t sit right with him. It’s part of the reason he asked you out tonight, to get your attention away from the other man.
You grab your phone while Matt orders your drinks and hold it up to Frank to show that you’re gonna text him.
You: What are you doing here? What if anyone recognizes you?
Frank: Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart.
Frank: Saw you go in here with that lawyer guy..
You frown at your phone. Is he.. Jealous? It’s the first time you’re on a date since you started seeing him, but you didn’t think he would mind. It’s all been pretty casual between the two of you.
Frank: Looks like a date..
You look at him and he raises his eyebrows to urge you to answer him.
You: It is.. Matt is a good guy. He would be good for me. Reliable, available..
You look at him and see him scoff as he reads your text. You know it was a low blow. The only reason Frank is away most of the time, is to make the city a saver place.
Frank: Yeah? That what you want? A good Christian boy?
You: Yes.
You lie and Frank knows it. You should want a guy like Matt. Matt you could bring to Thanksgiving dinner with your parents and your mom would, for once, not be disappointed in you.. But you and Frank both know you like the danger and excitement of your little arrangement way too much. For months now, Frank comes to your apartment on a regular basis. You have amazingly intense and kinky sex and have the best conversations while eating takeout afterwards. Sometimes he stays the night and sometimes he leaves while you fall asleep, but either way you’re left alone until the next time he has a night to spare.
Frank: So full of shit.
Matt comes back with your drinks before you can write a reply, but you scowl at Frank.
“Thanks.” You say taking the drink from him and smiling extra brightly, to convince Frank you’re having fun.
“Sorry it took so long, was very busy at the bar.” He says, holding his glass up to toast with you.
“Oh don’t worry about it.” You say as you touch his glass with yours before you glance at your phone.
Frank: Did you let him fuck you?
You: Not yet..
You look over at him and he scoffs again as he reads your message
Frank: Think he can fuck you like I can?
You gasp when you read it and you see Matt frown. “Something wrong?” He asks.
“N-no.. Just need to go to the bathroom for a second.” You say. “Excuse me.”
You don’t go to the bathroom. You walk straight to Frank and sit down next to him. “What the hell, Frank.” You hiss.
He just looks at you. “Tell me.” He finally urges. “Think he’ll fuck you like I can? Cause I don’t think he can.”
“Oh please.” You scoff. “Think very highly of yourself, Castle. I think Matt will manage just fine.”
He laughs dryly. “Just fine, huh.” He says. “Think I do just fine? Well I remember that differently, sweetheart. I remember you begging, crying out my name, barely being able to walk..”
“Stop that, Frank.” You hiss through your teeth. “I’m trying to give this thing with Matt a chance. I need something more serious in my life than just some good dick every once in a while, okey.”
“Oh now I’m just some good dick, hm.” He chuckles through his nose and looks to the side before looking at you again and licking his lips. He places his hand on your bare thigh, right at the edge of your dress. “You look good. Got all dressed up for your little date, huh.”
Your breath hitches at his touch. And your stupid body reacts instantly to his. “Y-yes..” You say.
“Got something pretty underneath it too?” He asks, fingers toying with the hem of your dress.
You swallow thickly. “No..” You say honestly.
“No?” He asks in disbelieve, knowing what you have in your collection.
“No, I’m not wearing anything.” You say smiling teasingly. “Felt like doing something risky for my date.” You like to make him jealous. It feels good to know that he wants you and doesn’t want another man to touch you.
He growls a little. “You gonna let him get under this dress tonight?” He asks.
“I might..” You say.
He grips your thigh tightly and leans in so his mouth is at your ear. “Let me remind you first..” He says. “Of what you’ll be missing if you do that.” His lips connect to your neck and he slides the tip of his tongue over your pulse.
“Frank..” You whimper, you brain clouding over. Why does he have to have this effect on you?
“Bathroom.” He rasps. “Now.”
Your eyes widen and you look at Matt. He looks unfazed as he drinks his beer, his back towards you. You know this bathroom. It’s beat down, broken lights and mirrors, graffiti everywhere and it has multiple stalls, so there’s no way you can get away with this without anyone noticing. “I can’t, Frank..” You sigh.
“I said. Now.” He says. You almost moan at his demand and get up. “Attagirl..” He says as you walk toward the bathroom, your feet moving on their own accord.
You can sense him following you closely. He pushes you into the bathroom and slams you with your back against the door to barricade it before crashing his lips on yours.
He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him. Your dress hitches up to your hips and you moan in his mouth as he rolls his hips into your, basically bare, core. “Hmhmm.” He hums and he breaks the kiss. “That’s what you need, huh?”
“Frankie..” You whine a little, but you know he’s right. “But-“
“Shh shh shh.. No buts.” He says and lifts your dress up more so it bundles at your waist. You feel your naked folds against the rough material of his jeans and you moan loudly. He snakes one hand between your bodies and slides his fingers through your soaking slit. “Fuck..” He mutters to himself. “That for me or for lawyer guy out there?”
“Y-you, Frank.. You..” You say, your voice breathy, as he starts rubbing circles on your clit.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He grunts. “Pretending to be a good girl, but you’re just a little slut for me..”
“Frankie..” You moan, sounding desperate, but you know he’s right. “Please..”
“Hm? What’s that?” He rasps against your throat. As he presses on your clit harder.
“Oh fuck..” You pant. “Frank, p-please.. Need more..”
“Oh yeah? That slutty hole needs to be filled?” He asks. “Why don’t I get Murdock to do that for you, huh? ‘M sure he can help you out.”
“N-no!” You gasp and grab onto his shoulders desperately.. “Need you, Frank.. Need your cock.. P-please!”
He growls and mutters something under his breath while unbuttoning his pants. You can barely hear it but it sounds like. “Hear that, Red.” You frown but get pulled out of your thoughts by Frank slamming his cock inside you without warning.
“Oh my.. Fuck!!” You cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders. You keep forgetting how big he is.
He growls loudly. “That’s it, take it..” He says as he starts thrusting right away, not giving you any time to get used to the intrusion. “Tight fucking pussy.. So wet for me.”
There’s a knock on the bathroom door that you can barely register. “Taken!” Frank rasps loudly, giving you a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out loudly.
“Y-you’re so bad..” You whine. “T-they can hear us.” You add in a whisper.
“Let them..” He says. “Let them hear what a whore you are for this cock. That you let me steal you away from your date and fuck you in a public bathroom.. ‘S because you belong to me, hmm?”
“Frankie..” You whine.
“Right?” He growls through gritted teeth.
He’s never been this harsh, but you’ve also never been this aroused and you can feel your orgasm building up fast. When you don’t answer him, he pulls out. “Nooo, don’t stop!”
“Say it..” He growls and rubs the head of his cock against your clit.
“Ohhh.. I-I’m yours, Frankie! P-please!” You moan.
“That’s right. Mine.” He growls as he sinks back inside you.
Your eyes roll back in your head and he starts fucking you with deep, hard strokes. “I-I’m gonna cum..” You pant into his shoulder. “Please don’t stop..”
“Good girl, cum on my fucking cock.” He rasps, never losing his rhythm.
You cry out when you explode around him and immediately know that no man can ever top this. You’re addicted to Frank Castle, even with all the hassle that comes with him. “Fuckkkk!”
“That’s it, attagirl.. Can feel you squeezing me..” Frank talks you through it.
“Oh my god..” You pant as you come down from your high.
“Think I’ll send you back to your date with me dripping down your legs, hm, how ‘bout that?”
“Noo! Please don’t!” You chuckle.
“No?” He asks shaking his head with a smirk on his face. “Better get on your knees then.” He adds and he pulls out.
He lets you down and you quickly get on your knees. You don’t care about how dirty the floor is, you need this right now.
His cock, wet from your juices, glistens in the dimmed lighting as he holds it in front of your face. He’s rock hard, the veins are pulsing and his balls look heavy. He’s definitely close.
You ‘open up’ when he tells you to and he slides in as deep as he can until you gag. “That’s it.. Attagirl..” He mutters and he slowly starts thrusting into your welcoming mouth, one of his hands resting comfortably on the back of your head, the other pushing the door closed above you. “Look at me..” He orders and your eyes shoot up to his. “Gonna make sure that if that fucker tries to kiss you, that he knows you belong to another man. Cause this fucking mouth’s mine too, hear me?” He growls, speeding up his thrusts and making you gag again.
You make some sounds to agree with him, not being able to talk. “Fuck.. Gonna give you my cum.. Fill up that pretty mouth..” He groans loudly and his hips stutter while you feel his load land on the back of your tongue.
You gently suck his softening cock to get every last drop before letting him slip out and swallowing the proof.
“Fuck you..” You sigh as you rest your head back against the door.
He chuckles silently. “That good, hm?”
“Shut up..” You smile lazily.
“Still think he can give it to you like that?” He asks as he tucks himself back into his pants.
“No.. Don’t think anyone can, Frank..” You say honestly. “And I hate you for it. You ruined me..”
“Should have warned you for that.” He says smiling down at you smugly. “Gonna get up?”
“‘F you give me a hand.” You say and he helps you get up on your shaking legs.
“Fucking Frank.” You curse as you look in the mirror. Your hair is messy, your makeup messed up and your dress is all wrinkled.
He chuckles. “Go end this date, I’ll be waiting in your room for round two.” He says slapping your ass and leaving you in the bathroom to freshen up.
“Thank you for your patience.” You hear him say to someone on the other side of the door.
Your eyes widen and you pull your dress down just quick enough for two women around your age to walk in.
“‘M s-sorry..” You mutter without looking at them. They don’t say anything, just disappear into the stalls.
You quickly try to salvage what you can and hurry back to your table.
“I-I’m sorry, Matt.” You say sitting down.
“You okey? You were gone for a while.” He asks.
“Ehm.. N-no, I don’t feel so well. Think it’s best if I go home.” You say as you put on your jacket and grab your purse.
“You sure?” He asks, frowning a little, and you get the feeling the question is about more than just you going home.
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Shall I walk with you?”
“No, that’s okey. I’ll eh, I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
“Alright.” He says looking a little disappointed.
“Bye.” You say, hugging him and hurrying home.
To Frank, once again.
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chellestrash · 6 months
Text
Growing Older
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Just a little fun thing, teasing, playing with Frank's beard, brat behavior.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of, suggested smut, reader being a brat, teasing, banter, strong language
A/N: A little piece for day one of the @bernthirst-events Beardthalbash! I don't usually write for bearded Frank so I'm excited to finally have something for everyone who enjoys that version of him the most.
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“That okay?”
Frank clears his throat, chin pressed against his chest when he glances down, watching as you get comfortable in bed, resting your head on top of his chest.
“Mhmmm.”
You mumble quietly, a small smile while you push your face against his body. Your eyes shut for a moment before you finally turn to look up at him.
“Yeah?”
His fingers brush over your exposed back as a follow-up to the question, and you hum quietly at the gentle touch.
“Yeaaah.”
Pulling yourself up slightly, you brush the side of his neck with the tip of your nose. His body warm against yours, his touch comforting as always, his heartbeat loud under your chest.
It takes you a moment to open your eyes again before you wrap your arms around his neck. A loud moan slips past your lips as you stretch on top of his body and his hips buck up slightly at the sound.
“Really, Castle?!"
You tease with your eyes now wide open, and he scoffs. Looking off to the side, he shakes his head before turning to face you again.
“Don't get cocky.”
He warns jokingly, and you smirk at the words, pushing your ass up a bit before grinding down against the bulge between his legs.
“Or?”
“Or you're gonna find out.”
Rolling your eyes, you discard his failed imitation tactics and repeat the movement, pushing the bridge of your nose into his neck before brushing your lips gently over the skin. Frank grunts, moving his hands down your back before you speak up again.
“Really, Frankie? That's the best you got, hmm?”
Your tone slightly lowers now as you trail small, innocent at first, kisses up the side of his neck before nipping the skin with your teeth. With a huff, Franks moves his hands up and down the back of your thighs, tightening the grip right under your ass, holding you in place.
You breathe out a short laugh, pressing your lips higher and higher up his neck before he lifts his head up, inviting you to continue.
"Oh, thank you, Frankie, that's so sweet."
You mumble in a mocking tone and he attempts to protest, but the sensation of your lips against the side of his jaw successfully distracts him from any further discussion.
His hips rock underneath you, and you push your core into the bulge. With a sly smirk, you watch as his lips part and his mouth falls open. Your eyes scan every inch of his face when, suddenly, you spot something.
“Oh, shit.”
Within a second, both of you freeze completely. The tone of the moment slips through his fingers as Frank attempts to decipher what caused your sudden reaction. 
“What?” 
He glances down quickly, but you push his face to the side. Keeping your hand on his cheek, you hold the man in place. Pushing yourself up, you move closer to his face, inspecting his jaw.
“What is it?”
Confused, he repeats the question, making an effort to turn his head back to face you, but you hold him down in place one more time.
“Shut up.”
“Will you just-”
He starts again, but you ignore his attempts to put together a full sentence and quickly sit up on the bed next to him. You lean down and with your eyebrows pulled together in a concentrated expression, you push some of the beard hairs to the side, focusing on one tiny spot on the side of his jaw.
“Damn.”
You mumble, and Frank decides that's enough. Turning his face to look at you now, he demands answers.
“Will you tell me what the fuck it is or-”
It's already too late, you've decided what to do and nothing this man could do would stop you now. In one swift motion, you pinch the side of his face before quickly pulling your hand back. 
"God damn it!"
Frank covers the area with his big palm, eyes open wide, the look of absolute and utter confusion on his face.
"What the-"
He starts, but you cut him off.
“Gray hair.”
You explain with the most nonchalant demeanor you could possibly pull off right now, holding up the small gray hair like a trophy, presenting it to its owner with an expression full of pride. 
“You had a gray hair.”
It takes him a couple seconds to respond, and he does it in the most Frank Castle way possible.
“Right.”
Pushing your face off to the side and down onto the bed, he shoves your head into the pillow before he moves over to the side of the bed and stands up. 
“Fuck you.”
“WHAT?!” 
You ask, giving up on any attempt to not burst out laughing. 
“It's not like I’m making it up! Look!"
You lift your hand up, proudly presenting the hair once again.
“Yeah, okay, you keep that.”
“Yeah?!”
“Be my fucking guest, sweetheart.” 
You scoff, turning to lay on your back again when he walks towards the door to leave the bedroom.
“Okay, so, let’s see.”
You start, and he frowns, turning back to check what you’re going to do this time. 
Lifting your hand up in front of your face, you begin to count on your fingers. 
“So... you talk like an old man, you act like one?”
He scoffs, shaking his head and glaring back at you, unimpressed. 
“Now you’re gonna start looking like one?! ...Damn, that's kinda fucked.”
“Okay smartass. That's enough.”
Frank speaks up, taking a step towards the bed. His eyebrow rises slightly, his words firm, his voice sharper than before. Silence fills the room for a moment, but only a moment. With a loud, theatrical sound, you continue.
“Frank, you're gonna get all greeey and wrinkly and oh my god, your whole beard, your HAIR?! Jeeeesus you're gonna look so old-”
And with that, he's had enough. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, Frank yanks your body toward the end of the bed, leaning over you in a, what you assume he thought was, threatening way, before he spits out a question.
“You done now?”
Your jaw drops with the sudden, unexpected motion, but the bratty smile quickly finds its way back onto your face.
“What do you think, Old Man?”
In that moment, you knew if looks could kill, you'd be dead.
“You just can't keep your mouth shut, huh?"
"Why don't you make me."
He scoffs loudly, shaking his head at your tone.
"Yeah, okay."
***
With tears rolling down your cheeks and your thighs shaking as you do your best to push your legs together, panting, you roll onto your back and watch him for a second. Standing next to the bed, Frank tucks his cock back into his boxers and pulls his jeans back. He clears his throat loudly and crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyebrow raised as if he's expecting an apology, like he really thinks you'll give him that. 
“Oh so-”
You draw in a deep breath, attempting to calm the loud panting as you push yourself up to look at him.
“So, I guess you fuck like an old man too?”
He scoffs, louder than before. Looking off to the side with a satisfied smile, he shakes his head before turning back to face you. 
“Yeah, okay.”
He glances down, just in time to catch the way your muscles spasm at the memory of what just happened. 
“Guess we'll talk about it when your legs stop shaking, sweetheart,"
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frvnkcastles · 29 days
Text
SET MY WORLD ON FIRE ➵ F. CASTLE
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Summary: You struggle with sex because of pain but want to give it a try with Frank.
Warnings: Female reader, feminine nicknames, light smut
Word count: 1.6k
Author’s note: Soooo I’m back with another PTSD related fic. I rarely write smut anymore but I wanted to do something like this because surprise surprise, it’s something I deal with. I suffer from chronic pain called vulvodynia, which is kinda similar to vaginismus I guess, and it makes having sex very painful or even impossible. There isn’t a lot of information about it available but I’m pretty sure it can be connected to (C-)PTSD or trauma in general (also other anxiety disorders). And I just think Frank would be so understanding and a safe person to try new things with. That’s all, thank you for reading <3
Your breathing was heavy as you rested on your back, your eyes locked with Frank’s as he hovered above you on the bed, and your fingers running through the coarse hairs on the back of his head. The air was tense and there was a ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach, but deep down, you were excited, too. And most importantly, you trusted Frank. You knew that the moment would be over with your say-so, and he’d be off of your body within seconds, but so far, you were willing to push your limits.
”Gorgeous girl”, he muttered while caressing your cheek and traveling down to grip your jaw softly, just enough to tilt your head up so he could lean down to kiss your neck. His lips left a trail of goosebumps and you closed your eyes to fully revel in the feeling, your arms hanging around his neck and your legs around his hips.
His name escaped your lips and you could feel his mouth curling up into a smile against your skin. ”Yeah, sweetheart?” he rasped, lifting his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. He took in the sight of you, eyes squeezed shut and a mixture of pleasure and anxiety twisting your features. ”Hey, look at me”, he demanded gently, and licking your lips, you met his gaze only to feel even more vulnerable under the intensity of it.
”Y’know nothin’ happens without your permission, yeah? ’M just here to go at your pace. You got nothin’ to worry about, I promise”, he explained, tilting his head at you, and slowly, you managed a nod.
You had wanted this for a long time. You had wanted him for a long time. But no matter how strong that desire in you grew, you knew that your body wasn’t on the same page with you, that regardless of your feelings, it would hurt. And when you had told Frank as much, he had sworn to be gentle with you, to proceed as slowly as you needed him to, with promises of being honored you’d trust him with it.
”Breathe for me, pretty girl”, he encouraged, and swallowing, you inhaled deeply through your nose, and following his example, you exhaled through your mouth. ”There ya go”, he smiled at you before biting his lip and deciding to dip a toe in the waters. ”Can I touch you?”
Your breath got stuck in your throat, but once again, you nodded. ”Yes, please”, you requested quietly, and satisfied, Frank let his hands venture across your body. You were already reduced to just your underwear, making it easy for his thick fingers to graze against your skin and glide down between your legs. He was careful, but you still tensed up, and he could immediately tell. You stared at the ceiling and tried to keep your breathing balanced, but you were scared.
”Want me to stop?” Frank asked, but despite the fear bubbling in your chest, you immediately shook your head.
”I want to feel you”, you admitted, and chuckling softly, Frank nodded.
He tried his best to be gentle, but you still gasped sharply at the feeling of his finger prodding, and Frank’s chest ached at the idea of causing you any pain. Nevertheless, when you didn’t tell him to stop, he pushed further, and somewhere within his movements, the initial pain melted into a warm, pleasant feeling.
”This okay?” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses as he moved his hand back and forth, and nodding rapidly, you clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle any stray moans about to slip out. Frank noticed in an instant and with his free hand wrangled your palm away from your face, wanting to hear everything.
”It’s good. It’s really good”, you breathed out, and with a crooked smile, Frank leaned his forehead against yours and kissed the air out of your lungs. His lips were like magic, just like his fingers, and the combined sensation of the two had you seeing stars, speechless as you writhed under the weight of his body.
Before you could reach your climax, though, Frank withdrew his hand from you, and when you whined at the loss, his grin widened. ”Shh, sh, it’s okay. Be patient f’me, baby”, he reassured before wetting his lips and looking down at where your bodies were about to connect.
”We’ll take it slow, yeah? I got you, sweetheart. Tell me to stop and I will”, he promised you, and with an impatient nod, you agreed to his words. It was a terrible mix to be both needy and scared, to want him more than anything in the world but dread that you wouldn’t be able to go through it. But Frank was endlessly patient with you, and like he had sworn, his movements were languid and careful.
The grunt that rose from his throat when he entered you made you want to keep going. You would have done anything for him in that moment. The exertion of being slow was obvious on his creased forehead, but he didn’t break his promise — he slid in slowly, pausing as soon as you sucked in a pained breath.
”Hurts”, you croaked out, wringing your eyes shut, and immediately jumping to action, Frank smoothed the lines in the corners of your eyes.
”Hey, hey, don’t worry. I ain’t movin’ ’til you tell me to, aight?” Frank whispered, and with a gulp, you nodded.
”Maybe… maybe if you… make small movements back and forth”, you proposed, and humming in response, Frank kissed your forehead.
”You know what to do if it ain’t feelin’ right”, he noted before inching his hips forward just the slightest, then pulling back and repeating the motion. It was an attempt to get you used to him, and it had you huffing and puffing with the hopes of remembering to breathe through it, but it didn’t seem like the pain was going anywhere.
”This would be a lot easier if you were… smaller”, you pointed out with a wry smile, earning a snort from Frank.
”Wanna stop?” he asked again, but you shook your head.
”I think I can take a little more”, you said hopefully, and with concern shining in his eyes, Frank nodded reluctantly and made a firmer thrust, only for you to immediately regret it.
Your hands flew to his chest to push him away, and reacting quickly, Frank pulled out and watched the ache bloom on your face. With a frustrated huff, you ran a palm across your features, and as Frank got off of you and knelt on the bed, you sat up, as well.
”You okay, sweetheart? Shit, I shoulda— I didn’t wanna hurt ya”, he stammered, hands hovering over you, not sure if it was okay to touch you.
Pursing your lips in a sad smile, you took his hand and squeezed. ”I’m okay. It’s not your fault”, you told him quietly. Nonetheless, regret blossomed in Frank’s chest as he watched you curl up and wrap your arms around your knees bashfully. But when he saw the look on your face, he knew you were feeling much worse than he was.
”Hey, it ain’t your fault either, ya know that, right?” he spoke up, tilting his head down to catch your gaze, which you expertly avoided. Frustrated tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away.
”I guess”, you shrugged. ”It just doesn’t seem fair to you. To—to get you all worked up, and then I can’t even—I can’t—”, you tried to explain, but Frank hastily shot down your anxieties.
”You don’t owe me anythin’. Just ’cause you make me turned on, and trust me, you really do, I don’t expect you to do anythin’ ’bout it. It ain’t fun for me if it ain’t fun for you”, he stated matter-of-factly, his fingertips caressing your arm as he sat closer to you.
”I guess we can always do other stuff”, you tried to see the positive in the situation, and with an encouraging smile, Frank opened his arms for you, and you didn’t hesitate to crawl into the welcoming embrace.
”That’s right, sweetheart. I’m happy to use my fingers if that felt good. Would love to get my mouth on you”, he whispered into your ear, and with blush creeping to your cheeks, you covered your face with both hands and giggled. ”And if you ever wanna do the same for me, that’s more than enough. Or if you want to try this again some other time, I’m okay with exploring. There’s no pressure”, Frank went on, and with a genuine smile, you gave him a grateful look.
”Sorry for ruining the mood. I really do want you, you know”, you wanted him to know, and with half a smile, Frank kissed you.
”Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. I know”, he sighed, his hand caressing your hair tenderly. ”How ’bout we order some food and maybe you’ll feel better?” he proposed then, and full of adoration for the man and all his patience and understanding.
”Thank you, Frankie.”
The guilt in you began to dissipate eventually, and underneath all the frustration, you felt lucky to have someone like Frank. Someone who you could trust to take care of you, someone who was okay with taking things slow. It hadn’t always been the case with other men, but with Frank, you felt safe. You felt like it would be okay, regardless of the outcome.
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Text
Drunk on You
pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 
summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")
warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate
a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!
w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)
Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 
He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 
From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 
Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 
Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 
It all started when David scolded him.
“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.
The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.
Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”
Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.
“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”
Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“
Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”
Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”
Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.
Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”
Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”
The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”
Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.
Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.
Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”
Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”
David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”
You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”
David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”
Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.
You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”
The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”
Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”
You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”
The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”
David was glowing. “So you accept?”
“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”
Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”
Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”
What had he gotten himself into?
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Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.
With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.
“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”
Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”
“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.
“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.
As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”
Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.
“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”
“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.
“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.
While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.
“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.
Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.
David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”
Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 
“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 
Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”
“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.
“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.
“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.
You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.
“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.
Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”
“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.
“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.
“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.
“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”
Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.
As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.
“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.
“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.
“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.
“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.
“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.
“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.
Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.
“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.
“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.
Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.
Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.
“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.
”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.
Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.
A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”
Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”
“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.
The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.
It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.
Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.
Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”
“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.
“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."
"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.
"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."
"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.
Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.
"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."
As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"
Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."
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The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 
Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”
Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 
“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 
Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 
“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 
“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.
After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 
“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.
Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.
Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."
Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.
Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”
“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.
Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”
Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."
You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.
Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.
Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.
Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.
"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.
"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"
Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."
Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.
“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”
Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.
Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.
“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”
Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”
It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”
As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.
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The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.
Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.
“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”
Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“
”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.
”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“
Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“
Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.
Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.
”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.
Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”
”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?
Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.
“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.
“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.
“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“
Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“
As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.
“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”
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The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.
God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.
“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.
“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.
“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.
“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.
“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.
“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 
“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”
Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 
“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–
“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”
“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”
“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”
“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.
“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.
Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.
“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.
“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.
“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.
Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.
“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”
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Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.
After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.
It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 
Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.
Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.
“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.
“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 
Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”
Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 
Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 
“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 
“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.
Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”
“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 
“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.
“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.
“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.
“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 
Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”
“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.
Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”
“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 
“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”
“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 
“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.
“You make everything seem so easy–”
“Aw, Frank–”
“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”
By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”
“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.
“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.
“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”
His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 
“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”
You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 
“I hope you made it home safe–”
You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 
“You shoulda stayed here with me–”
His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.
“I'll always keep you safe–”
Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 
“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”
His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.
Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 
“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.
His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.
“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.
“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.
“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.
“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.
“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 
Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.
“I love you too.”
“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 
“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 
Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 
Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”
Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 
Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 
“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 
“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”
Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”
“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”
“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 
You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 
Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 
Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.
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Thanks for reading!!
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dameronology · 2 months
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home (frank castle)
warnings: a little bit of frank being depressed but that's about it. probably language too? i don't even notice anymore.
this is the first thing i've written in so long and it's very short buuuut i hope you like it
--jazz xx
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You could always tell when Frank had had a bad night.
The signs were clear as soon as he got home. Boots thrown to the side with a loud thunk (he would apologise for the noise in the morning); body haphazardly hitting the mattress beside you as he let out a huff of exhaustion. Normally, his hands would be on you before he even in bed. He had to sleep with his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you, any signs of breaking free met with intense refusal until the morning. You felt safe but he felt safer.
Tonight was different. You heard the crash of shoes, and the thump, thump, thump towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you but instead of his hands, you were met with Frank's back to you. It was tense, littered with pink scars and red ones, and fresh cuts and bruises. You could have reached out, but you didn't want to push it. A few years ago, before you, before this, before he'd learnt love again, he probably wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed out til the crack of dawn, fighting, fighting, fighting; fists beaten to a pulp and every part of him rigid and exhausted to his very core. Frank had learnt now: when he got really bad, he had to come home. When the going got too tough even for him, it normally meant it was the end of night. You were just grateful he had come at all.
You said nothing; just a small sigh. For him, for you, for whatever the morning would bring.
10AM came quickly. It was a Sunday, so Manhattan was nice enough to wake a few minutes later than usual. The silence in your bedroom was quickly filled with the sound of horns and brakes and the yells of the outside world. You didn't have work that day, thank god. That meant there was no rush. Frank could rise whenever he wanted.
Except - fuck - you had forgotten to turn off your alarm. It came blaring out your phone as soon as the clock struck on the hour, vibrating across your bedside table and onto the floor with a loud thud. Frank, being the world's lightest and potentially most dangerous sleeper, quickly rose. His hair was getting longer now, so it was tuftier in the mornings. You would have laughed if your chest wasn't so heavy.
You quickly hopped out of bed, sheepishly picking up the phone.
"Shit," you muttered. "Frankie, I'm sorry."
He let out a grumble, rubbing his eyes. "It's okay. I had to wake up at some point."
"Are you okay?" you quietly asked. "I know you're not but...I gotta ask."
Frank didn't say anything - instead he just sighed. Then, he opened his arms and ushered for you to come back to bed. You did so without hesitation, dropping into the sheets beside him. Strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you to his chest, one hand cupping the back of your head. You'd always found irony in the fact that he had to be the one to hold you when he was upset. No matter how shit he was feeling, Frank was always the big spoon. His ability to protect you was the one thing he could control. It was the one thing that made him feel a little okay again.
"It was a really rough night," he quietly admitted. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I just wanna take it easy today."
Frank said nothing else. What he had said was beyond anyone else's wildest dreams; this was coming from the man who made a point of closing himself off, from refusing himself love and anything good. You were the only person he would ever say anything too. It was safe to assume at any given moment that he wasn't okay, but he was a little closer to it when he was with you.
The rest of the morning went like a ghost.
You moved around each other with ease; his small touches lingered - a hand on your back here, another on your hip there - and you could tell he was coming back around. Sure, he burnt the first three pancakes and didn't realise the milk was out of date til after he'd poured it into your coffee, but he was being Frank. You would have been more worried if he'd cooked properly or made good coffee.
You'd moved to the sofa by midday, dirty plates piled up in the sink and Max snoring on the rug in the middle of your living room. Die Hard was playing quietly in the background (Frank argued it was an all year round movie). You were sat between his legs on the sofa, large thighs either side of yours and arms wrapped around your front. He had his head resting on top of yours, giving you the occasional squeeze with his legs and arms.
"I love you," Frank quietly murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You turned your head to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you too."
"I'm sorry for being quiet last night. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"You don't have to apologise," you hummed. "I'm just grateful you came home."
"I'll always come home."
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grippingbeskar · 9 months
Text
i wanna be yours
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frank castle x fem!reader
warnings: explicit content minors dni! 18+ (mxf, lil splash of dirty talk, first time together?) swearing, mentions of canon typical violence
a/n: based on this request from the lovely @lemon-world1 you know i’d write whatever you give me okay <3
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“Frank.” You breathe out at the sight of him. He’s the last person you would have thought would be on your doorstep. You thought… you could have sworn on your life that yesterday would have been the last time you’d ever see him.
It broke something in you, but it was for the best.
Your work was over. Whatever you did or didn’t have with him, all the late night stake outs and crammed car rides, it had to end when your business did. You both knew that. You didn’t live lives that were compatible with indulging the warmth he gave you every time he looked at you like he did.
Like he was right now.
He’s panting like he ran here, cropped hair sticking to the side of his face. Rain drips off his nose, slips over the healed cut on his cheek. You remember how he got it, how his blood splattered across your face and how you screamed his name. It was the first time you realised you needed him, that little scare.
“What are you doing here?” You manage to speak, but he’s not said a word. He’s just breathing hard, both hands gripping the edge of your doorframe, eyes boring into you. He’s so tall, he always looks down on you. Usually it doesn’t bother you, but right now you feel small. Like prey, waiting to be hunted down and torn apart. That’s how intense he is sometimes, and it’s impossible not to be sucked into it.
He steps into your apartment, and you step back to give him the room. Your eyes flutter, confusion and temptation swirling in a sudden battle in your stomach. This was not smart. You were a lone wolf— you worked alone. That’s how you survive.
You should tell him to leave.
Now.
His hand slips over yours, gently, to where your holding the door open. He takes over, and shuts it behind him. Your hand follows it, and when the lock clicks your fate shut, his hand doesn’t let yours go.
“Frank.” You say again, weaker this time. He lets his hand wander higher on your arm.
“I thought about it.” He says, his voiced dry and strained.
“Thought about what?”
“You. I’m always fuckin’ thinking about you.” He shakes his head, like he’s mad at himself for it.
You understand. You can’t get him out of your head, either.
“I’m not lettin’ you leave.” Frank says as he steps closer to you, and meets no resistance when you let him tug your hips closer to his. Despite the rain, he’s warm on your body, lighting up all the pieces of you that he’s made his own. “Don’t go.”
“I have to— our job is done here. This—“ You gesture between the both of you, where your chests nearly touch “— this has to be done, too. We put everyone in danger if I stay.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He nearly growls it out. You bite your lip to stop a smile, his hands moving up to dance along your ribcage. He drops your eyes and scans your body, drawing along the line where the two of you meet. “I can’t let you go.”
“I don’t want to let you go, either. But what about—“
“I’ll figure it out. Just tell me you’ll stay with me.” His eyebrows furrow on his hardened face, and you want to smooth the lines of him. To take the tension out of his face like you know you can.
His words pull your heartstrings. You know you sacrifice everything, put everyone in danger if the two of you risk being seen together. But… the feeling of his hands along your body, the way his head dips and leaves a trail of zapping warmth along your jaw as he softly drags his mouth along your skin, tasting you. You couldn’t say no to him. You wouldn’t dream of it.
“Stay with me.” He calls to you again, and you’re already nodding when he claims your mouth and kisses you deep.
It moves quickly. It’s hard and fast, the way he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his hips. He spins you around, your apartment suddenly foreign to you as you get lost in the tangle of his tongue on yours. Things clatter and smash as he shoves you onto the nearest table, pressing your back to the wall. He groans when your hips roll against him, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth.
He grabs at your hips, your sides, your face— any part of you close enough to hold and pull closer is covered by his claiming hands. You drag your fingers through his wet hair, dragging the tips of your nails over his scalp. He groans again, muffling the sound against you as he starts to bruise your neck with his wandering mouth. You let your head fall back, feeling him suck at the skin under your jaw.
You want him to do it harder. More noticeable. You want people to know— you were his. Fuck everyone else, fuck safety. This was worth burning the world to the ground. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, smoothing an apology with a warm kiss, and you moan his name.
“Frank.” The room echos it back to you, and you move again. Frank lifts you, attaching his mouth back to yours and encouraging the slow roll of your hips in his hands. He’s cupped your ass completely, gripping the flesh and slipping his hands under your shorts so he can touch more of you.
He was greedy like this. Always wanting more, wanting you to bare nothing to him. It was impossible to be insecure with him— he bathed every inch of your skin in adoration, whether it be with his mouth, his fingers or the rest of him. He was obsessive— hungry for it, and most of all he was fucking insatiable.
He lets your ass hit the cool marble of the kitchen counter, tugging the shorts down your bare legs as he kisses you deeper. He throws the scraps of material as far away as he can, like the further he throws it the longer you’ll be like this in front of him. Naked from the waist down, spread and warm in front of him. Just for him.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He mumbles against you, then one of his hands pushes your chest back. You catch yourself with your forearms, giving you a perfect view of Frank dropping to his knees and burying himself between your legs.
The moan you let out at the indulgent lick of his mouth through your folds is drowned out by his own. He hooks his arms around your body, letting your legs lock him in, and you feel the soft brush of his hair against your inner thighs as he drops lower, then comes back up.
He leaves no part of you without the pleasure of his mouth, messily fucking you open with his tongue like he’d fade away without the taste of you committed to memory. His lips wrap around your clit, and you feel the satisfied grin he gets when you cry out and shudder. He grips your thighs harder to keep you right where he wants you, and your eyes roll back into your head just as he looks up at you.
It’s too much— the skilled movements of his tongue and mouth against you. He knows you too well, knows exactly how to get you off in either the quickest or longest way. If he wants to give it to you, he can do it in record time. If he wants to tease you, he’d know how to keep you in bed for hours. Days, if he wanted. But right now, he only wants one thing, and it’s the reason why he’s being so giving. So, so generous.
He wants you to stay.
You tug hard on his hair, feeling the vibrations of his groan rush through to your chest. Your heart beats faster and faster, the pounding in your ears blurring everything to a dull white. When you cum, he just gets faster, wanting to taste more of you, feel the way your legs shake and your fingers wrap through his short hair and your hips ride his face through the high.
His head moves with you, side to side, up and down, the sounds so pornographic you think your neighbours will most definitely call the cops, but you can’t think enough to care. You scream his name, your body giving out and your back pressing flat against the countertop. Frank starts moving again when your breathing slows, the heat of his mouth kissing up your hip bones, leaving the mixed wetness of you and him along your skin and up your stomach.
“Baby… stay with me. Stay with me.” He tugs you closer, your legs dangling off the side. He’s now got you face to face, nose pressing against yours. In your post-bliss haze, time slows a little. You let your eyes drift over his face, fingers slip like the raindrops down his cheeks, soft and gentle. “I want you. Stay.”
“I’ll stay. I’ll stay.” You nod quickly, and kiss him hard. Your nose squishes his, and it only presses you closer when he wraps both his arms around your waist. You shuffle further on to the edge of the counter, and then your hands slip down further. “Here. Now.”
You had done a lot with Frank, but you hadn’t broken this barrier. You hadn’t crossed this final line, and you couldn’t think of a better time than now. To prove to him that you were his, that you wanted this as badly as he did. You didn’t know how to say it, but you could show him.
You undo his belt, and he just rests his hands on your hips and watches. Your deft fingers struggle just for a moment with the button, the watchful eye he gives you making you nervous. Your hands shake, and when you finally get them undone, he covers yours with his own.
“You tell me what you want. You call the shots.” He notices your nerves, and puts the gun in your hand. Hands over control. You shove his boxers down just enough, mouth almost watering at the sight.
“I want you. I want…” Your hand trails over his length, hot and heavy in your hand, and he groans, head falling to your shoulder. “I want this.”
His hands fall away, resting on your hips again, thumbs tracing circles along the skin. You spread your legs wider, accommodating his massive frame, and you both gasp into each others mouths when the length of him presses against your wet heat.
He looks up at you, and leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. He kisses you, an attempt to distract, and it works so quickly you almost forget the pain of him sliding into you. You cry out softly, but it’s lost in the taste of his mouth, and you can feel him holding himself back, too. His grip on your hips is tight, and he can’t concentrate on kissing you when he bottoms out, instead pulling away and cursing.
“Oh, fuck.” He growls, then dives back to your mouth. He doesn’t move just yet, letting you get used to the stretch, but it doesn’t take long until your wriggling on the counter top, wanting nothing more for him to move.
The pain dissipates, and when he rolls his hips back into you again, it disappears completely. Instead it’s replaced by a foreign bloom of pleasure, one that no one else has made you feel. Maybe it’s because none of them have held your heart in their hands like he does. This feels different, because it is different. It’s terrifying and consuming you form the inside out, but it feels too good to stop, and you get lost in it before you can make sense of it.
“More, Frank. God— I want more.” You moan into his ear, and he bites gently on your shoulder as he speeds the snap of his hips. He hits you deeper like this, your legs wrapped around his back so he can’t get too far. Whatever you ask, he gives it to you ten-fold, so when you say you want more, he fucking delivers.
He drives into you, making you see stars with the approach of another rush of pleasure. One of your hands claws at his back, raking lines against the skin you’ve dipped under his shirt to find. His muscles flex under your harsh touch, and he fucks you faster when he feels your nails scratch along him. You know he loves the marks as much as you do— he’s yours as much as you are his, and he doesn’t care if people know, either.
“You feel so f—uhh-fucking good, baby. Fuck, I can’t last.” His voice is more broken than you’ve ever heard it, a scratchy sort of low growl as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t find words beside the strangled moans he fucks from you, and you just lock your legs behind him in a silent plea.
Your arms dig into him as you cum again, and he only manages two more strong drives of his hips against yours before he’s cumming with you, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge with you. He keeps his head buried against you as he cums, singing a broken chorus of your name.
He stays buried inside of you when he picks you up again, your head not fully clear as your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close. You don’t know where he’s carrying you, and you think you don’t care until your body hits the bed— and then you sigh in relief.
Any tension that he didn’t fuck out of you is gone when he keeps you on top of him, letting your head flop and body relax against him and the fuzzy comforter you’ve chosen for the coldest nights in New York. His fingers push the fabric of your shirt up, and then dance along the line of your spine. The light sensation gives you goosebumps, and brings you back to reality, one that is almost as blissful as the dreams you’ve had.
“You’ll stay.” He says after a while, and you manage a nod. Just one, but it’s enough, a hum of satisfaction vibrating through his chest. When he wraps his arms around you, you drift into sleep, knowing you’d do whatever he asked.
But for now, you’ll stay.
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bianquitasunderworld · 6 months
Note
I’m obsessedddd with the idea of sub!frank. Like that man was a soldier and he follows karen like a lost puppy. Maybe not all the time, but yk that man likes to be told what to do
Submissive Solider
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Warnings: smut, talks of sex.
Parings: Frank Castle x Reader
A/N: This is more of a thought/blurb? Omg I’m sorry I got carried away, this man just does things to me. Also does anyone know how you get one of these thin border/divider things, i’ve been looking for one in pink and I just can’t find one. ⬇️ 😭
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This man absolutely follows his partner around like a lost puppy everywhere, everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong, Frank loves being dominant, loves taking control of you, mind and body, but there are days where he just needs to take a break, days where he doesn’t want to think for himself.
On those days he starts arguments, and has an attitude until you decide you’ve had it with his behavior, with him. Some days Frank puts up a fight, he’ll be bratty, he’s giving you lip until you fight him into submission which is difficult. But on those days where he just gives in. No arguments, no talking back. Those are the days where you know he’s having a really rough time.
Frank is willingly to do anything on those days, he’ll listen and do as told, he’ll beg. He’ll get on his knees while looking up at you, kissing your thighs, pleading for even just a look at your chest or under your skirt.
He’s so shameless when he’s in a submissive headspace, he loves doing anything in his power to please you. Frank adores your whimpers, moans and whines, any noises that escape your lips from his doing is music to his ears.
Now I don’t think he’s the type to call you mommy in bed…but there has definitely been times where the word is on the tip of his tongue. There has been times where you just make him feel soo good and he just wants to groan ‘Mommy.’
I feel like he’s definitely more of the ma’am type, I don know if he’d be the type to say any other titles than Mommy and Ma’am.
One night though, one night when Frank is so tired, so, so tired and just needs a break, he’ll come home and find you cooking in the kitchen or reading some book he recommend and he just gives you ‘that’ look with his stupidly beautiful eyes.
You don’t have to ask any questions before you’re taking off your shirt and laying in bed, letting him suck your tits. He just lays there with you caressing his head, running your nails against his scalp comforting him to the best of your ability. Kissing his head while he runs his hand down your hips. He groans as soon as he wraps his mouth around your tit, sucking and groaning.
He treats this moment as if it’s something he never wants to forget, as if he never wants to leave it. Now, it happens when you have to pull him off for a second. He just so needy for you, he needs you. Frank groans ‘Mommy’ his voice is deep, it’s clear he’s desperate. He looks up at you. His eyes starring into your soul begging for more.
God the things it does to you just hearing it leave his mouth, God you didn’t even realize you liked that until it left his mouth, Franks mouth. You just have to give in, you have to. He’s your solider, ‘The Punisher.’ For the first time he’s begging you for something and you just have to give in, just have to let him have it.
This will usually always leads to passionate sex with soft caresses followed by ‘I love you’s’ and ‘So good Frankie.’
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amhrosina · 10 months
Note
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
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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.”
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How about: showing Frank Castle your new lingerie? It can be fluff, it can be smut, do with it what you please! <3
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Spin For Me.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - allusions to sex. cursing.
valentines masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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“Keep your eyes closed, Frank. I’m serious.”
He’s grinning, both hands pressed to his face as proof. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom.
“Come on, baby. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Good things come to those who wait!” you yell through the door. Frank laughs, shaking his head.
You finally swing open the door, leaning against the frame with a hand on your hip. You take him in for a moment - the smile on his face, his relaxed stance, the way his sweatpants hug his thighs just right. Inhaling deeply, you clear your throat.
“Open ‘em, Frankie.”
Frank blinks in the lamplight, adjusting to the brightness. When his eyes land on you, his breath hitches in his throat. He rakes his gaze all the way down your body and back up again, slow and sticky sweet. His irises darken, lust blooming across his skin.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Goddamn.”
You push yourself off the doorframe, standing up straight.
“Spin f’me.”
“Hmm?”
“Spin for me, baby. Let me see you.”
You twirl around gently, like a ballerina in a music box. When you stop in your place, Frank gestures with his finger for you to spin the other way.
It’s almost voyeuristic, the way he’s devouring you with his stare. You feel like predator and prey, in the moonlight of your bedroom.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”
The lace hugs your body exactly, every dip and curve accentuated. The colour compliments your skin perfectly, and your mind is running a mile a minute wondering what Frank is going to do to you first.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckles. “Yes it is.”
He stands up finally, making his way over to you. You’re waiting for him to twist his fingers into the material and rip, like he usually does. Instead, he runs his fingertips over the lace trim on your chest, gentle and featherlight. He dances his touch down your sides and onto the top of your underwear, playing with the band softly.
“Want you to keep it on,” he murmurs. “Wanna see this lace against your skin when I eat you out.”
You exhale shakily, nodding your head.
“Plus,” he whispers, leaning down to mouth at your ear. “This pretty thing gives me something to hold onto. Better grip when I fuck you into the mattress.”
You drop your head forward onto his chest, bare skin warm against your forehead. You can feel the way his lungs are heaving, just as buzzed on the anticipation as you are.
“You’ve given me a gift, honey. Now let me give you one.”
He drops to his knees in front of you. You’ve never seen anything prettier.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months
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lilac, masterlist
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a/n: ...yes i did spend about an hour in procreate trying to change the sign on the right photo to say lilac and not the name it originally said... welp. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't an overachiever.
summary: moving back home to the family-run inn isn't exactly what you had expected, especially not with the mysterious lumberjack that now calls the quaint little town of Dunbrook his home as well...
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, running an inn in a tiny rural town, explicit sexual content, violence, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, pete castiglione era, total word count is 42k
masterlist | join my taglist | series playlist
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CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
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*Y/N on speakerphone with Frank and Matt*
Matt: Thanks, Y/N
Y/N: You, my fine, furry friends, are welcome
Y/N: *hangs up*
Frank: Remind me to have her drug tested later
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