frank castle, whose sex drive seriously diminished over the years of being punisher, lost in a war with a single mission. but then he meets you and it slowly starts to return. and it doesnât just returnâ it feels like his body is trying to make up for lost time. he feels like an animal, one glimpse of you and heâs ready to pin you to the bed and pump you full.
asking neighbor frank if he would drive you/pick you up from the airport and you barely even really Know him yet but heâs your last resort because tbh you asked your dad but he justâŚ.wont.
and being very shy asking because you feel stupid but you may as well ask before you resort to an expensive uber ride
the way he wouldn't even blink. he could be in the middle of surgery and he'd pop up off the table.
You were hemming and hawing on how to bring it up and almost talking yourself out of it and practicing how to ask because you didn't want to inconvenience him so outrageously so when you finally work up the courage to knock on the door, it takes you a minute to spit it out.
Frank answers the door after .2 seconds, his hoodie half zipped and a half-bitten apple in his mouth.
"You alright sweetheart? What's goin' on?" he asks calmly enough, but his brows furrowed just a hair. Frank seemed to always have that air about him, at least around you. You weren't sure you'd ever seen Frank relaxed, per se.
"Oh fine fine," you assure him, your fingers starting to fiddle, "I was actually wondering -- sorry to spring this on you by the way, I hope I didn't interrupt you or anything -- I have this trip coming up and, um, so I'm flying out of JFK, and I was hoping maybe my dad could do me a solid but that was sorta wishful thinking I guess, can't say I'm surprised though, I don't know why I thought he would" you ramble hopelessly, doing anything to avoid just asking the damn question but to Frank's credit, his attention is rapt the whole time. He's nodding along as you ramble, his eyes flicking to your hands now and then and watching the way you pick at your cuticles as you talk.
"And normally I would just take the subway but I have like the hugest suitcase and I don't think I can manage it down the stairs," you continue and Frank's brows furrow in earnest at that, "so I kinda need a car and I can just totally take an Uber it's just that they're, like, so expensive right now and the flight was already a fortune," you keep going, beginning to get annoyed with yourself so you decide to finally spit it out, "So I was wondering if maybe you, uh, would be able to drive me?"
His face looks like it's painted in simultaneous comprehension and relief, his hand instinctively reaching out to land on your fidgeting ones, stopping the motion as if to say, relax sweetheart.
"JFK sweetheart? Where's your bag?" he asks, popping the apple in his mouth to hold while he pats down the front of his legs feeling for the keys to his truck as his eyes look past you to your open apartment for your suitcase.
"Oh no, it's on tomorrow!" you reply, relief flooding you along with a rush of affection for Frank's willingness to drop everything and drive you across town on a moment's notice.
"Tomorrow," he repeats to confirm, tugging the apple out of his mouth, adding "What time doll?"
You wince, hoping this wouldn't change his response and reply, "It's at 5:50am so I'd need to be there at like... maybe 4:30am?"
He scoffs at that reply and your heart drops. He replies, "Gotta be there earlier than that sweetheart, 4am probably."
"Ok yeah, you're probably right," you admit, feeling like an ass for even asking.
"So I'll have the truck pulled up out front and I'll knock on your door at 3:30am alright doll?" he says, looking you in the eye and giving your hand a soft squeeze at your side.
"Really? That's not too early for you?" you ask, your spirits lifting at his willingness.
"Don't go worryin' 'bout stuff like that sweetheart," he says a scoff like it was silly to even ask. "You got your bags packed already?" he asks.
"Yeah-- yeah all ready to go," you answer.
"Alright lemme grab now doll. I'll keep 'em here and bring down when I pull up the truck, alright?" he says, like it's normal to offer a complete car service to a random neighbor.
You nod and make to go grab your bags but Frank makes you tell him where they're at so you don't have to lug them anywhere. And true to his word, he knocks on your door at 3:30am sharp, ushering you downstairs (after making you go back and get a coat) where his truck awaits at the curb with the flashers on, already warmed and with a small coffee waiting in the passenger seat cupholder.
Summary: Frank helps you through a vulnerable situation.Â
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, non-consensual drugging (not by frank), hurt/comfort, thief!reader that Frank has an uncharacteristic soft spot for, black cat esque readerÂ
You made a mistake. You could admit that.
âYou think you can steal from me?â Jigsaw yelled, squeezing your neck and cutting off even more of your air supply. He had you in a chokehold, standing in the middle of the warehouse you had been casing. Jigsaw had gotten into the business of running fake art auctions, but he had genuine pieces if you knew where to look.Â
Like this warehouse you were currently captive in.Â
You opened your mouth to gasp for air, a small squeak climbing up your throat. Your feet danced as you tried to find some way to break his hold, but he was a massive man who could probably snap you like a twig. Jigsaw sighed against you, nonchalant as if he wasnât holding someoneâs life in his hands. You could see the arm that wasnât squeezing your neck reach into the pocket of his suit coat from your peripheral vision. You caught a glimpse of a syringe with a capped needle and doubled your efforts to escape.Â
You thrashed against him as much as possible, too scared to do anything that might cause him to break your neck. Your hands pulled on the arm around your throat, trying to grant yourself more oxygen than what he was providing, which was just enough to keep you from passing out. You couldnât relinquish your opposing force on his arm to scratch him anywhere else, and youâd already tried stabbing his arm with your claws. He seemed to be wearing some sort of thin, impenetrable armor beneath his clothes.Â
Jigsaw plunged the needle into your thigh, straight through your catsuit. The sting of the needle was nothing to you, but the thickness of whatever he was injecting you with and the way it burned through your veins was agonizing. It tore a scream from you; your body shook uncontrollably.Â
Then it was gone.Â
There was no residual ache, it was as if you hadnât just experienced unbearable pain one second ago. Your body felt perfectly healthy, but the chemicals that coursed through your veins felt like it had burned all the fight out of you. Your stomach flipped nauseously at the realization that you didnât feel tired, exactly, but... pliable, submissive.Â
âNow, we can talkââ Jigsaw grunted from the sickening impact of something blunt against his skull.Â
You took the opportunity to twist out of the chokehold, putting distance between yourself, JIgsaw, and whoever had just attacked him. When you spun to face your enemies, claws bared as your only weapon, you saw that the third party was The Punisher. Just your luck.Â
Youâd escaped from Frank Castle with your life on multiple occasions with the suspicion that he was going easy on you. The first time youâd met heâd gotten the drop on you. You didnât know why he hadnât shot you in the head and called it done. Maybe he has higher priorities than girls who steal to survive.Â
There was a moment where you, Jigsaw, and Frank all surveyed each other, sizing up your opponents now that you had two enemies to fight. Then Jigsaw was digging into his suit, pulling out a hidden pistol, and aiming it at Frank. The bullet that lodged itself into the skull on Frankâs vest did not deter his advancement upon Jigsaw. You sucked in a deep breath as the two men fought each other, trying to get ahold of yourself.Â
You should run from the scene. The job had gone bad, you had two men who were much larger than you to deal with, and nothing to show for it. But a violated, angry part of you wanted to stay and fight Jigsaw. If Frank hadnât interfered you certainly would have been in for hours of questioning and most likely, pain. But then again, with this drug in your system, you probably would have told him anything he wanted to know. Your walls were crumbling down. Your heart was racing from adrenaline but your body wanted to sink to the floor.
Frank grabbed the gun and wrenched it out of Jigsawâs grip, punching him in the face with his other hand. Jigsaw stumbled back and you ran up behind him, using his backwards momentum to throw him to the ground. You snuck in one solid kick to his head before a firm hand enveloped your upper arm and wrenched you away.Â
Frank pulled you behind him, clearly intent on dealing with Jigsaw himself. An angry sound rumbled from you. Jigsaw was yours to punish. But whatever he had injected you with was only growing stronger, no matter how much adrenaline and anger you tried to work yourself up with. You forced yourself back into the fight, ignoring the sudden desire to push yourself into a corner and let Frank handle it.Â
Jigsaw had gotten to his feet by the time you took action again. You yanked on Frankâs utility belt from behind. He must not have been expecting it with the way he stumbled back, creating enough space for you to dodge in between the two men and go for Jigsawâs throat. You were too slow, your claws just barely nicked his adamâs apple. Jigsawâs face was contorted with rage as he seized you and lifted you off the ground. He tossed you with all of his strength and you crashed into a statue, smashing it to pieces.Â
You laid there with the broken plaster, unable to will your body to stand up. That seemed to be the final push for the drug. You couldnât fight, couldnât fend for yourself. It wasnât your physical strength, it was your mind. You were agreeable, waiting for a command. Youâd do anything. The worst part was that you still had enough awareness to be scared. You knew that you were unable to defend yourself but you couldnât do anything about it.Â
You listened to the gruesome noises of fists connecting with flesh, the metal slice of a knife, and the loud pop of a bullet. You flinched as the door to the warehouse was kicked open and dozens of footsteps rained down like a hailstorm. Cops.Â
A pair of black combat boots rushed into your line of sight, crushing small pieces of plaster beneath them. Frank knelt down and placed one hand on your shoulder.Â
âDonât touch me,â you whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and curled into yourself. You internally screamed at yourself to get up, to run, especially now that the police were involved.Â
Frank did not listen to your demands. He scooped you up in his arms, rose to his feet, and rushed you out of the warehouse. You heard the shouting of police officers ordering Frank to stop, and ordering each other not to shoot. They thought you were his hostage.Â
It was a small mercy when you passed out.Â
--
Your eyes blinked open groggily. It wasnât voluntary, you were just suddenly awake. You felt no passage of time. One moment you were in The Punisherâs arms, and when you blinked you found yourself on the couch ofââyour own safehouse?!
Panic threatened to spark within you, but it couldnât seem to ignite. The drug must still be in your system, though it wasnât as strong as before.Â
You were curled up on your side with a fuzzy blue blanket draped over you. There was noise to your right, a voice on the radio you couldnât make out and someone fiddling with a metal object. Slowly, you managed to shift your gaze upwards.Â
Frank Castle sat at the poor excuse for a dining room table that furnished the studio apartment. He was listening to his police scanner and putting a handgun back together. Your eyes widened when your gaze trailed up to his face.Â
The fight with Jigsaw must have gotten as ugly as it sounded from your position on the warehouse floor. His face was a mess of purple bruising and dried blood. Not exactly the most comforting sight to wake up to. But the logical part of you, or maybe the deluded part, felt relieved to see he was still here. Despite his violence, you knew The Punisher. Heâd never let anything happen to youââor do anything to youââwhile you were drugged.Â
âMy hero,â you find energy to quip, the corner of your mouth twitching up slightly.Â
Frank looked up from his gun and surveyed you. He shook his head, but you had a feeling you passed his inspection.Â
âFeelinâ better?â He stood from the table and sheathed his gun in a holster at his thigh. As he walked closer to the couch, your heart skipped. You knew he was safe, but he was still a very large man approaching you in a vulnerable position. Your moment of fear mustâve shown in your eyes because he stopped and held his hands up in surrender. âHey... sâok.âÂ
âI know...Iââthank you.â You looked away, slightly embarrassed. The drug was wearing off, but unfortunately now you felt all the awkward feelings. âIâm good.â
Frank nodded and collected his police scanner. He made for the door without a word, his mission of protecting you now fulfilled.Â
âHow did you know where this apartment was? I rarely use it,â you blurted out, sitting up.Â
He gave you a look. âDonât ask stupid questions, girl.â
The door shut firmly behind him.Â
Sure, the next time you saw Frank heâd probably punish you for petty theft. But right now all you could think about was that youâve, yet again, survived an encounter with The Punisher. You couldnât help but smile.Â
Thereâs nothing you love more than cuddling with your dada. Frankâs skin is always warm and you keep your face pressed into his neck or chest. He holds you tight and rubs your back while you drift into a lighter space, somewhere between awake and asleep.
Please okay walk with me. Frank fucking the life out of you and you call him daddy and in a little mocking tone he says i know mommy i know. HELLO PLEASE
Ohhh this man wants to put a baby in you. He has an insane breeding kink and no matter what you meant by calling him daddy, heâs just using that as an excuse to fulfill his fantasy. Itâs barely even a conscious choice for him, itâs just an instinct when heâs deep inside you. He Needs to bottom out and fill you up.
âFrankie, Iâm bored,â you whine. Youâve been clinging to him, tugging on his arm while he tries to read his book. You rest your chin on his shoulder and press your boobs against his arm.
âWanna have sex?â you whisper.
Finally, Frank gives you the time of day. He rewards you with a shrug and a teasing âI guess.â
You know heâs joking, but you play the part of offended and dismayed. Your jaw drops and your brows furrow as you glare at him. He keeps looking down at his book for a moment longer before he side eyes you, peeking for your reaction. He canât hide the growing smirk on his face.
âFine, then I donât wanna!â You push away from him, scooting over so thereâs an entire couch cushion between the two of you.
Frank closes his book and chuckles, his voice gravelly.
âCâmon, I was just teasinâ.â He moves closer, leaning into your space until youâre forced to lay back on the couch.
âNo,â you resist, shaking your head and looking away from him. âI donât like you now!â
You pout. When he tries to kiss you, you turn your head to the side. He laughs softly in your ear, the same way people laugh when a baby animal has done something amusing. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then to your jaw and down to your neck.
âHeyâŚâ You whine softly, trying to keep your guard.
Frank's hand comes up to hold your jaw, keeping your face turned away and your neck exposed.
You try to swat at him but he catches your hand with his free one. He turns your face toward him and forces a kiss, even slipping his tongue into your mouth. You relent somewhat, kissing him back but letting him stay in control.
When he breaks the kiss you push on his chest, enjoying your act of resistance, but heâs relentless. He kisses down your neck, his hands releasing yours in favor of pushing up your shirt. You won't be bored for the next couple of hours.
bro frank castle and spanking? and paddling? and belting? i just know that man is big into impact play
maaaybe if you really want it and can convince him. i donât think heâs big on hurting you, youâre his baby. can he get a bit rough and animalistic at times? yes, but thatâs different than hitting you.
but if youâre being a brat and heâs sick of it? heâs definitely giving you a spank that stings. maybe one or two.
frank is asleep. he knocked out after pounding you into your velvet couch and making sure you were properly fed and watered afterwards.
but youâre awake and you want him. heâs wearing grey sweatpants and you can see the print of his fat cock, massive even when itâs soft.
you gently rub him over his clothes, appreciating his size. eventually youâll pull his pants down and suck the tip into your mouth. heâs so worn out he might not even wake up :)
frank with feline!mutant!reader⌠you find his punisher hideout and like a stray cat, just wonât go away. he tries to act all gruff but deep down, heâs secretly thankful for some company.
frank castle who saves you from some bad men and makes sure you get home safe. youâre half his age but he canât stop himself from coming to check on you every week. just to make sure youâre safe, of course.
summary: Frank comes home pissed after a job goes bad.
warnings: porn with a plot mostly, angst and fluff if you squint, piv sex, shower sex, Frank has a bad day and needs to fuck it out, big man, creampie (condoms irl folks), Franks a freak and likes to see the cream pie, vague mentions of death and violence, fem reader, rusty writer be kind but also critical <3
word count: 2.1k
Frank Castle, an ex-outlaw turned bounty hunter for the same government that wanted him dead or alive, is hunting down his old gang for his freedom. He must turn in the notorious Billy Russo, leader of the Anvil Brothers and his life-long best friend turned mortal enemy, to the feds. His past has haunted him long enough on the road. Can you help scare away the ghosts? Or do you have your own skeletons hidden out on that land...
Sooooo hello ! this is my first post on this blog and my first time writing smut in a looooong time. Would love to know thoughts, opinions, cronstructive criticism, questions, concerns, etc. Ideally, I will have a much longer post with the context... maybe even a series whos to say. But this was fun. I wrote it in three hours, divine intervention guided my hands i swear. Anyways, enjoy Frank and his darlin'
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Frank isn't the type of man who conceals his disappointment well. You can always tell when he comes home if the job didn't go well: bounty got away or died, someone got hurt, he got hurt. It's routine at this point. He returns with the fury of a summer storm, heavy footsteps thundering up your creaky porch. You swear you can hear the heavy sound of his hand gripping the handle through the door.Â
You're reading on the couch when it happens this time. It's late in the day, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, when you hear him on the porch, muttering at the door. The bounty hunter marches through the door like a man on a mission. His black cowboy hat tilts forward, shielding his eyes from you. You know the stormy look hidden all too well. His mouth is set in a hard line, jaw clenched. He stalks past you; the thunderous marching the only sound he makes. You watch his big frame as he strides past, the worn leather duster hugging his strong back. He stops, carefully unloading his weapons on the kitchen table.Â
Usually, you love this view, watching the big bad bounty hunter disarm himself in your small kitchen. The room, hell, the whole house, never felt small âtil this large man took up residence in your home. The tension is visible in his shoulders. You watch silently, hoping heâll break the silence. He doesn't.Â
âFrank?â you call out to him as he leaves the room. Again, he doesn't respond. A sigh escapes your lips as you set your novel down on the couch. It didn't go well today. Frank set out early this morning, before the sun rose, to stake out an Anvil Brothers hideout near Gaptooth Ridge. Was it abandoned? Did they find him? He didn't look like he was hurt or bleeding, but sometimes that man would rather bleed out before telling you he was injured.Â
He told you once he hated to see the look on your face when he came home bleeding and bruised. You told him you hated seeing him come home bleeding and bruised. He didn't have much to say after that.
The sound of water running breaks you from your worries. Heâs getting in the shower, hopefully that means no bullet holes. Hopefully.Â
Heâs in there for 15 minutes before you let yourself in. Quietly shutting the door, you can make out his blurred silhouette through the thin curtain. If he heard you come in, he doesn't show it. Slowly, you undress and pull the curtain back to join him. He has his back to you, hands on the wall in front of him. His head hangs low under the water. The sight makes your stomach churn. You glance him over, no cuts, bruises, or blood streaming from him. A sigh of relief escapes you, his head cocks ever so slightly. Can't take the extensive criminal past out of the man, or however the saying goes. Stepping closer, you slowly wind your hands around his waist, pulling yourself into his back. He hums softly as your palms press to his hard stomach. For a moment, neither of you speaks or moves. You can't bear it for much longer.Â
âFrankie, baby, what happened today?âÂ
His head lifts from the water after a beat. He turns in your arms to face you. Pushing his wet hair out of his face, you move your hands to cup his strong, bearded jaw. A sigh escapes his lips as one hand falls to yours on his face, the other to your hip.Â
âI was too late.â There's a solemn defeat in his tone.Â
âWhat do you mean?â Knitting your brows, you search his brown eyes.
âIt wasn't a hideout, least not at first. It was a settlement. They took over one day, tortured those peopleâŚâ He trails off and breaks his hard gaze from you. âEveryone. Everyone was dead. The whole town â destroyed by those fuckers. Nothing I could do.âÂ
That last statement weighs on him. You know it does. He's chased the Anvil Brothers for months. Seems like every victim he takes personally now.Â
âIt's not your fault, Frank. They're cruel men.â He looks to the floor.
âI was one of âem once.â His voice is haunted.
âDid you everâŚâ You trail off, unsure of how to ask this question. He wouldn't have killed an entire town, right? The man before you would never, but was he always this way?
âNo.â He grits. âNot ever.â Frank turns back to look at you this time. No longer haunted, hurt flashes in his eyes. âYou know Iâm no saint, doll. But I wouldâve never done the things I saw in that town. Never.â Guilt hits you like a train. How could you accuse him of that?Â
âI know that, Frank. Iâm sorry, I didn't mean-â He cuts you off this time.Â
âDon't be,â He sighs. âI woulda asked the same thing.â He presses a kiss to your forehead. His thumb rubs circles on your hand on his jaw. His stare returns to the floor.
âIâm sorry I came home angry.â Pulling his chin up to meet his eyes, you press a soft kiss to his lips. âShouldnât take this shit out on you.â
âIâm just glad you weren't bloody this time.â You meet his eyes with a smile.Â
âMe too.â You both smile at that. He kisses you for real this time, deep and slow. Heâs savoring you. You two really have a routine. He comes home angry, you meet him wherever he hides, you let him take what he needs. He never disappoints.Â
The hand on your hip grips tighter, pulling you in. His other hand falls from yours to grab a handful of your ass, making you moan. Frank smiles into the kiss, licking his way into your mouth. It's hot and desperate, breathing in each other as your tongues explore. Your fingers slide from his thick beard to his hair, finding purchase in the wet curls. You tug softly, and he moans deep into your mouth. He breaks away for a moment, breathing hard. His eyes have shifted once again, dark with desire.Â
âFace the wall.â The command a near snarl in his gravelly voice. Before you can register it, he roughly spins you, pressing you against the cool tile of the wall. His warm body melts into your back, his hard cock pressed right into the flesh of your ass. A needy whine comes out as he slides his hand around you to press rough fingers where you need him most. His body fits tight against you, one hand on your clit, the other pawing at your chest.Â
âAtta girl,â He practically purrs in your ear. The praise clouds your mind and sends a shiver down your spine. âJust need to open you up, right? This pussyâs always so tight, gotta make sure my girls wet fâme.â His vulgar words always ignite that fire in your belly, that need. The possessiveness makes you dig your fingers into the wrist that's working your pussy. It's just one of those things that hasn't been said but doesn't need to be. You're his, through and through. His hand leaves yours to grip his hard length, dragging it up and down your slick folds.
âGod, you're wet.â You buck your hips back to meet his hardness as he moans.Â
âFrankie, baby, don't tease.â You whine. You know he needs it, you can feel it. He huffs out a short laugh before quickly finding where you need him. The blunt pressure of his tip presses into you slowly, your walls stretch to fit him easily. Took a while to get used to him, that's for sure, but god, you're thankful for that fact right now. He pushes the tip in and stills, waiting for you.. Still such a gentleman, though you know how badly he needs this.
âFuck darlinâ.â He whispers in your ear, kissing just below it. The sensation makes you shudder.Â
âTake me, Frankie, Iâm yours.â He doesn't hesitate. In one quick thrust, youâre stuffed full of his hard dick. A choked-out moan escapes your lips, eyes roll in the back of your head. He always manages to get so deep. Pressed against your deepest spot, pleasure and pain burst through you as he holds himself there, for just a moment.Â
âFuckinâ perfect,â And then his composure snaps. His hands are moving again, one grips your waist, the other pushes you to arch your back for him. His hips start up at a brutal pace, knocking the breath out of you. âPerfect fucking girl,  my perfect fucking girl.âÂ
There's not much you can do when Frank fucks you like this. He's the perfect storm. A sexy, thick, moaning-in-your-ear-and-fucking-you-deep tornado. It takes most of your brain power to remember to breathe. The sound comes out like you've been underwater, a strangled gasp. It's all you can do, holding on to his strong bicep and wantonly whimpering his name.
âBaby,â you whimper, trying to form a coherent thought as his balls slap against your clit. The sound echoes through the small shower; it's so obscene it makes you dizzy. âBaby, it's so good.â His chest meets your back again, arms wrapping around you, holding you to him tight. It's all too much.
âI know sugar, I know,â He punctuates that last word with a sharp thrust, hand snaking down to rub your sensitive nub. âAlways. So. Fucking. Good.â Every word is followed by him plunging deeper, harder than the last time. The tip of him presses your cervix each time, pain covering the edges of the burning bliss, overtaking every nerve inside you. Tears prick at your eyes as he continues working himself inside your tight channel.Â
 Your body is buzzing, your mind overwhelmed with pleasure. Frank is the only thing keeping you tethered, driving you closer and closer to the edge. There's nothing in you, mind or body, that isn't fully consumed by him at this moment.Â
 âMânot gonna last. Need you to cum fâme,â His strong nose is pressed against your temple, and his hot breath huffs out his command. âNeed to make you feel good, need to make my girl cum on my dick.â There it is again, the possessiveness. It stirs something deep, only adding to that white-hot fire burning in your belly. Heâs just as much yours as you are his.Â
âDonât stop, Frankie, please don't stop.â Is all you can muster. He's fucking perfect, commanding your body with such authority. He knows you so well, knows how to rub just right to get your legs shaking, knows the spots inside you that make you see stars. He plays you like an instrument, desperately making you sing for him. Furiously rubbing your clit and pumping into you with such force that you're pretty sure that without his arms, you'd be on the floor. He lets out a needy moan before growling at you.
âCouldn't stop if I fuckinâ wanted. Câmon, pretty girl.âÂ
He nips at your ear, and that's all it takes for the fire to burst through your whole body. Eyes screwed shut, you cry his name as your whole body is overtaken with the shock of your orgasm. You feel yourself clench down on him, your whole body curling in on itself. Frank's strong arms hold you up and fuck you through it, prolonging your pleasure.Â
âFuck yes, fuck yes, that's it, baby, yes-â A moan cuts his rambling short as he follows you off the edge. His arms pull you impossibly tighter to him, his hips press as deep as possible. He fucks his release deep as your walls pulse impossibly tight around him. A chorus of soft moans fills the shower as you come down together, his grip loosening slightly with slow thrusts. He kisses your temple and sighs into your skin as you catch your breath.Â
Still holding you up, he gingerly pulls his softening member from you, eyes glued to your fluttering hole. You lean against the wall again, arching to let him see. This is his favorite part, you know it. Heâs never said it, but it seemed every time he finished inside of you, he wanted to see it. Youâd caught on quick.Â
His big hand grips your ass cheek, spreading it so he can get the full view of his seed dripping from you.
âYou like seeing what you've done to me?â You ask as innocently as you can with cum dripping from you. He groans under his breath and smacks your ass.Â
âYou're so fucking sexy, darlinâ,â Spinning you to meet his lips, both hands grab handfuls of your ass. âLet's get you cleaned up, yeah?â he drawls out when he pulls away, a smirk pulling at his lips as he kneels before you.
content: established relationship, no yn, 18+, female receiving oral sex and fingering, dirty talk, (1) pussy slap, pet names, explicit language.
wc: 1k.
âââ
Three times.
Thatâs the number of times Frank has taken you over the edge tonight.
And apparently itâs not enough.Â
Not even near.
For him, at least.
He is settled between your legs, massiveâcalloused hands wrapped around the contrasting softness of your thighs, trying to hold them still; firm.Â
Chapped, coarse lips leaving kisses along your pussy, wellâexperienced tongue exploring and tasting the wetness of your folds, every now and then sucking at your swollen clit, making your puffy hole clench around nothing.Â
Insatiable, thatâs how he is, especially when it comes to you.Â
âJusâ like that, doll, relax.â He rasps out, voice lower than usual, carnal. âYou taste so fuckinâ good, so sweet.â
âOh, fuckâ Frank.â You moan, the smokiness of his tone sending rumbling vibrations to your aching core.Â
You reach out to him. Trembling fingers tangling in his tousled black hair, gripping. A way to ground yourself, to keep control.Â
Thereâs a brief moment where Frank glances up at you from where he is and it almost releases that tense knot just over your stomach.Â
He looks absolutely drunk on you. Intoxicated.Â
Black pupils blown wide, gaze laced with nothing but desire, an animalistic manner in it. Strands of his ânow longerâ hair falling over his forehead, some sticking to it. Salt and pepper beard glistening with a wet layer of your arousal, mixed with his spit. Just from worshiping you, from treating you like a vice.Â
Heâs determined. You noticeâalways do.Â
Determined to make a mess of you.Â
A whimpering, drenched, ardent mess.Â
You feel it before you could even see it. One hand travels down to where your body burns for more, for the roughness of his contact. The toughened skin of his thumb presses down against your clit, the unexpected pressure sending crashing waves of pleasure up your spine.Â
Loud and breathy is the gasp that falls from your lips as Frank begins to draw lazy, unhurried circles over it. The pace being tortuously slow.Â
It makes you fall apart right under him, muscles growing sore and tired. Head falling back against the silkiness of the pillow, burying yourself in it.Â
âLike this? How I touch right here?â He says, so rawâgrave you almost miss it. âLike how I treat âer?âÂ
Silence.Â
You nod. Just nod eagerly, because thatâs all you can bring yourself to do as of now. Lust and the overpowering scent of him, taking over your head, clouding your senses.
Leather, sweat, sandalwood.Â
And just as you start getting lost in your thoughts, what pulls you back is the sudden slap followed by the stingingâexquisite pain that spreads along your pussy. The wet sound of the impulsive impact echoes vulgarly around the room.Â
A moan escapes from you. For a second, your brain shortâcircuits. You see white.
âBaby, I asked you somethinâ, didnât I?âÂ
âYesâ Yes.â You pant.Â
âSo go on, behave well fâme, answer.âÂ
âYes, Iâ I love how you treat me, so fine.âÂ
âAttagirl,â Frank praises. âKeep it like that.âÂ
You move the hands that were once settled between the darkness of his hair to the beigeâgentle sheets of the bed, grabbing them into a fist.Â
Frank rests the weight of his head against one of your inner thighs, he observes the sight in front of him, thinking of his next move. Long, scarred fingers move up and down through your flushed folds, and thenâdown, down, until they meet with your needy hole.Â
âFrank, please.âÂ
âWhat was that, doll?â He asks. Amusement dripping as he does, because he has you right where he wants.Â
âNeed youâ inside me.â You choke out.Â
He clicks his tongue. âNot yet, patience is a virtue, baby.âÂ
And before you could even dare to argue back, his middle and index digits were already making their way deep into you. Sticky, viscous walls swallowing them immediately. Somehow you feel full.
âChrist girl, still so fuckinâ tight.â He grunts. âWonât be able to fit me all.âÂ
You whine.Â
He moves his fingers with skill. In and out, in and out, the motion stimulating, delectable. The filthy, slippery sounds coming out of your pussy anytime he thrusts, flood your hearing. Makes you feel lightâheaded.Â
âFuck.â You capture the flesh of your bottom lip with your teeth, an action to keep you sane. Â
And if it wasnât enough, his thumb finds its place at your clit once again, reassuming those idle touches that made your back arch away from the mattress. Your body fighting the urge to pull back from the growing pleasure.Â
âLook at you, a soaking mess and itâs just my fingers.â Frank groans, crudeâfrom the bottom of his chest. âBet you couldnât even take my cock, not even the damn tip.âÂ
Involuntarily, you clench around him at his words. The lone dirty, unfiltered things he says, bringing you closer. A little bit closer. Right where you crave.Â
His fingers curl and somewhere in between, he finds that spongy delicate spot. The one that every time he repeatedly hits, turns you into a babbling, breathless chaos.Â
âOh, that itâ ainât it, sweetheart?â He growls. âThatâs the place, right here.â
The pace he establishes is brutal. Bliss and ecstasy orbiting around you.Â
Burning inside you is the shape of his fingers, the thrusts become reckless. Frankâs hoodedâcloudy gaze fixates on the way youâre choking his digits, how they disappear completely, coming in and out, coated with your juices. Your cries and gasps turn up in volume.Â
Itâs vulgar.Â
âLet go fâme, baby, soak all of my fingers.âÂ
âYouâre right there, go on, easy.âÂ
Thatâs all it takes.
To drive you onto the edge.
Your eyesight gets blurry, the shocking waves of your orgasm make you dizzy. You hear the force of your heartbeat inside your ears, throbbing, pulsating. Frankâs name leaves your lips in breathy sighs, almost like a mantra, intimateâintense.Â
His fingers never stop, just slow down. He helps you ride out your orgasm, extend it as long as it can. Let you enjoy it. Really feel it.Â
Your bare chest rises up and down, ragged is your breathing as you try to come back from the high.Â
âFuckâ Frank, come up here, youâre such a menace.âÂ
pairing : frank castle x fem!reader
warnings : size diff, hurt/comfort, reader cries, bad day, implied past struggles, petnames, wee little bit of babying, physical affection
summary : after having a bad day, youâre just glad to be able to come home to frank. you donât mean to steal his clothes, it just kinda happens, layer after layer.
wc : 2.0k
it had been a really bad day. one of those long, draining ones where everything felt just a little too heavy.
youâd done your best to keep it together, pushing through the hours, keeping your head down, but by the time you got home, the weight of it all had settled deep in your bones. your chest felt tight, your throat burned, and the second the door shut behind you, the tears finally broke through.
you tried to be quiet about it. you knew frank was home - heâd told you earlier he was gonna be in for the night, promised to bring food, check in on you. you hadnât expected to actually need it.
you werenât sure what gave you away - the sound of the door shutting, the shaky breath you let out - but it didnât take long before you heard his footsteps, slow and heavy, coming from the other room.
âsweetheart?â his voice was gruff, tinged with concern. âthat you?â
you swiped at your face quickly, trying to get rid of the evidence before he could see it. âyeah,â you called back, but your voice wobbled, betraying you instantly.
he was in front of you before you could blink.
frank had this way of making you feel small, but not in a bad way. he was just⌠big. broad shoulders, solid chest, hands that could probably wrap around your whole waist if he wanted to. he stood close now, taking you in, dark eyes scanning every inch of your face.
âwhatâs wrong?â
you shook your head, trying to wave it off. âjust - just a long day, sâall.â
he wasnât buying it. his jaw ticked, but he didnât push - not yet. instead, he reached out, slow and careful, like he knew exactly how fragile you felt. his hands settled on your shoulders first, then skimmed down your arms, squeezing lightly.
âcâmere, baby,â he murmured, voice softer now. and just like that, whatever was holding you together snapped.
you sank into him without thinking, pressing your face against his chest. he was warm, solid, smelled like leather and gunpowder and something distinctly him.
frank wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tight, one big hand smoothing over your back. âshh, i gotcha,â he murmured. âsâalright, just breathe.â
you sniffled against him, fisting the front of his shirt. âi just felt like everything went wrong today,â you admitted, voice small.
âyeah?â he rumbled, rubbing slow circles against your spine. âyou gonna tell me?â
you hesitated, but he just squeezed you a little closer, like he had all the time in the world. so you told him - about the little things that had piled up, the way everything just felt too much. he listened quietly, nodding, humming in acknowledgment.
when you were done, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. âwish i couldâve been there, baby. wouldâve made it easier.â
you let out a shaky breath. âyeah, you wouldâve. anyway i just needed this,â you admitted, your voice cracking as you tried not to let the tears slip.
âyeah?â he tugged you even closer, so close you felt caged in, but in the safest way possible. âyou stay right here as long as you need, baby. âm not goinâ anywhere.â
you werenât sure how long you stayed wrapped up in him like that. long enough for the shaking to stop, long enough for the tightness in your chest to ease.
but eventually, you sniffled and pulled back a little, rubbing at your eyes. frank cupped your face, thumbs brushing gently under your lashes. âsâpose you ate somethinâ?â
you shook your head.
he sighed, but it wasnât annoyed - more fond, if anything. âknew i shoulda made you eat earlier,â he muttered, then tilted his head toward the kitchen. âgo sit down. âll get you somethinâ.â
you almost protested, but he gave you that look, the one that meant there was no point arguing. so you listened, dragging yourself over to the couch while he disappeared into the kitchen.
it took about five minutes before the exhaustion really hit you. the kind that settled deep, made your limbs feel heavy, made you crave warmth.
without thinking too much about it, you got up, wandered into frankâs room.
his closet was open just enough to see inside, and you didnât even hesitate, grabbing the first thing that looked warm and oversized - a dark hoodie, worn and soft. you pulled it over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. it smelled like him, felt like him, and some of the leftover weight in your chest eased just from that alone.
you were still tugging the sleeves over your hands when frank walked in, carrying a plate. he froze in the doorway, brow furrowing.
then, slowly, his mouth twitched up at the corner.
âthat mine?â
you blinked innocently. âno.â
his eyes swept over you, taking in the way his hoodie draped over you, how the sleeves hung past your hands.
his smirk deepened. âyou sure âbout that, baby?â
you flushed but didnât answer, just wrapped your arms around yourself.
frank exhaled, setting the plate down before walking over. âyâcold?â
you nodded.
without a word, he hooked his fingers under the hem of the hoodie, adjusting it on you before smoothing his hands down your sides. it shouldâve been nothing, just a small touch, but the way he did it - so deliberate, so gentle - made your breath catch.
âlooks good on you, sweetheart,â he murmured, tugging lightly at the oversized sleeves. âknew youâd be cute all wrapped up in me.â
your face burned, but before you could say anything, he was steering you back toward the couch.
âcâmon, baby, eat somethinâ first,â he said, squeezing your hip. âthen weâll talk âbout how youâre stealinâ my shit.â
you huffed but let him guide you, sinking onto the couch as he handed you the plate. he sat next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch, close enough that his body heat seeped into you.
you picked at the food for a second before glancing at him. âare you gonna make me give it back?â you said, the small smile on your face giving away the fact that you already knew the answer.
frank smirked, reached over to tug the hood up over your head. ânah,â he murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple. âtold ya - you can have whatever you want.â
you didnât mean to steal more of frankâs stuff. it just kinda⌠happened.
first, it was the hoodie. then, at some point during the night, you tugged off your socks and found a pair of his thicker ones to put on instead. then, when you got up for water, you spotted one of his beanies on the counter and pulled it over your head without thinking.
you were comfortable. warm. the weight of the day had eased off your chest, leaving only a pleasant kind of tiredness.
frank noticed immediately.
you caught him watching you from where he sat on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the back, legs spread wide. his dark eyes flicked over you, slow and deliberate.
â⌠somethinâ you wanna tell me, sweetheart?â
you blinked at him, feigning innocence. âno?â
his lips twitched. he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. âyou sure âbout that, baby?â
you fidgeted under his gaze, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over your hands. frank let out a low hum, and before you could react, he reached out, catching your wrist.
his hand swallowed yours easily, thumb brushing over your knuckles. âlemme see somethinâ.â
he tugged, just enough to make you stumble forward, and suddenly you were standing between his legs, looking down at him.
his free hand landed on your hip, big and warm, while the other pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie. his thumb brushed over your pulse point, slow and steady, like he could feel how much your heart had picked up.
âreal cute,â he murmured, voice low. âyou think i wouldnât notice you pilinâ on all my shit?â
heat crept up your neck. âi was cold.â
frank huffed out a soft laugh, eyes flicking up to meet yours. âah, i see. that why you took my beanie too?â
you hesitated, then nodded through your smile.
his lips twitched again, but instead of teasing, he reached up, adjusting it over your ears. âsâpose i canât be mad, long as itâs keepinâ you warm.â
you exaggerated your exhale, making it look like tension was slipping from your shoulders. frank chuckled in response, but he wasnât done with you yet. he shifted, tugging lightly on your wrist again until you got the hint and climbed onto his lap.
you werenât small by any means, but compared to him, you might as well have been. his arms wrapped around you easily, pulling you against his chest. you let yourself sink into him, pressing your face into his neck.
frank chuckled, his hand running slow over your back. âjesus, sweetheart. if you wanted me to baby you, you coulda just asked.â
you mumbled something incoherent against his skin.
he smirked. âwhatâs that, baby?â
âshut up.â
frank just laughed again, low and warm, the sound rumbling through his chest. you felt the press of his lips against your temple, then his nose nudging against your hair.
âyou know you can just tell me when you need this, right?â he murmured.
you hesitated, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. â⌠sânot that easy.â
he exhaled, squeezing your waist. âi know, baby. but you donât gotta wait âtil youâre feelinâ like shit to come crawl into my lap.â
your face burned. âi did not crawl into your lap.â
frank smirked against your temple. ânah?â he teased. âkinda seems like you did.â
you groaned, pushing at his chest, but he just tightened his grip, keeping you right where he wanted you.
âsâalright, sweetheart,â he murmured, lips brushing your ear. âi like takinâ care of you.â
you swallowed hard, heart flipping in your chest.
frank sighed, shifting slightly so he could rub a slow hand up and down your spine. âbeen runninâ yourself ragged lately,â he muttered. âshouldnât take a bad day for you to slow down.â
you knew he was right, but you didnât know how to say that out loud. instead, you curled in a little closer, letting yourself just⌠be in his arms.
frank let you, rocking you slightly, his fingers tracing slow patterns against your back.
âyâgonna stay here tonight? you better.â he added, before giving you a chance to reply.
you nodded anyway.
âyeah, thought so,â he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. âmeans you ainât takinâ that hoodie off either, huh?â
you shook your head.
he sighed dramatically. âshoulda known. losinâ all my shit to you, huh?â
âyup,â you murmured, voice muffled against his chest.
frank huffed, but there was nothing but warmth in it. âyeah, alright, sweetheart. long as youâre warm.â
he paused, then smirked. âbut you do this again, least you could do is grab one of my shirts too. would look real cute sleepinâ in oneâa those.â
you groaned, hiding your face in his neck, your eyes shutting as the tiredness took over. âfrank.â
he just laughed, arms tightening around you. âsâalright, baby. you know you can take whatever you want.â
so we agree that everyone in the 75th hunger games was meticulously chosen (rigged) down to who was reaped knowing who would volunteer in their place, right?
dailybridgerton
izzy806
origamiaround
stormborns
baratheonpilled
dededos
yousharknotpass
