I feel like I need to add introductions to this blog.
If you're a creator/fanfiction writer stumbling here because I've reblogged or rambled on the tags first of all let me say THANK YOU, from the bottom of my hear, thank you!
I created this blog so long ago because on the main one ( @toxicfunkylittlecrazy ) I was bugging some followers who didn't share my love and passion for smut (and or reader x character sort of fics), it's not that I am ashamed but at the time I wanted to respect the wishes of my community, so, I wanted a dedicated blog to congratulate and share the divine works of art the authors create, and so here it is, it's a mix of all the fandoms and characters I enjoy :D
Occasionally I will reblog some stuff that isn't fanfics but that's cause I'm a dumbass and reblog on the wrong blog. Since this isn't a main blog you won't find likes from this one or reblogs from the other one, but it's me, all me. Hi.
Anyway, that's enough of me, back from a 5+ year hiatus from Tumblr, looking to indulge with good fanfiction. I reblog everything I read because like I good girl, I don't read what I don't enjoy. So you'll only find good content here.
you put on a pretty set of lingerie to surprise your long-distance boyfriend. he didnāt get the surprise, but his dad did.
tags: kissing, comfort, slightly posessive frank, cheating, second hand embarrassment for you all, praising, pet names, age gap
wc: 3k
There was some unsaid tension between you and your boyfriend ever since you decided to leave your hometown to get masters degree at the better university than the one in your closest city. It wasnāt that far and because you were both grown up you werenāt meeting that often anyway.
He never said he had something against it, he helped you pack, drove you to your new apartment and caressed your face as you got emotional over leaving. Everytime that you tried to bring up that you feel bad about moving hours away from him, he shut it down, saying that he would never want to get between you and your future.
Still, you felt the gap between you get wider and wider with every week. Missed phone calls, because he was at work or you went to sleep earlier, because you had an exam next day, weekends when you couldnāt go home, because you were swarmed with projects or his car broke down and he couldnāt come to you, it all made a dent on your relationship.
Summer break was just around the corner and you hoped that two months together would help you work through everything that broke over last ten months.
He was excited, promised that he wouldnāt let you out of his grip when he finally sees you. He kept talking about how his dad was about to go on some trip and youāll have whole house to yourselves. Few months since you last saw each other left you pent up enough that you hoped that he was saying truth. You splurged on a set from Victoriaās Secret to surprise him. He always said that white was your colour, you knew that he would love the delicate babydoll dress with lacy hems that left just enough to the imagination and matching thongs.
First week of summer break was fruitless. His work kept him busy and tired, and you hated to be the type of girlfriend who would put her needs over his rest.
You spent a lot of time with your parents, friends from high school who also came back for the summer. One of them turned out to be working in the same company as your boyfriend was. She had an easy job in human resources, which she loved. With a giggle she let you know that she might look into your boyfriendās schedule and let you know when he gets off work the next day, so you could surprise him without being suspicious at all. At first you werenāt too sure if that was a good idea, but girls quickly convinced you that it was probably one of the hottest things you could do. And if there was anything that could save your relationship it was a bit of heat.
So, the next day, you packed your sweet lingerie in your bag and left home. Your boyfriend was living on the other end of the town, your heart sped up with every minute of car ride. The key was under the cushion on the chair, he kept it here ever since you met him and it was a reason for an argument with his dad, who thought it was the most irresponsible thing ever. Frank always said that if someone wants to break in, at least make them work for it. His car wasnāt there, so he really had to leave for a trip. Never seemed like the type to take trips, but thereās first time for everything.
You let yourself in, inside didnāt change much since you were there last time, so there was no point to wander around. You had a very specific plan and the clock was ticking, your boyfriend would be home soon and you had to get ready.
You changed your clothes in his room, which was surprisingly clean for him. Itās not that he was a slob, but he wasnāt the type to tuck his bedding so perfectly before going to work. With every passing moment you felt more and more like it was a stupid idea. Dressing up and waiting was far from your commitment to those things coming naturally in the moment. It made you think again that he was probably tired afterā
The doors opened. Then closed, slowly. Your heart was beating so hard, you barely could keep it inside your chest.
You sat gently on the edge of his bed, it was so awkward, you tried to prop yourself in a way that wouldnāt be screaming āI have no idea what the hell am I doingā.
You waited. Waited for some time more.
Good ten minutes passed, before you decided that you canāt just sit there and wait. You reapplied your honey lipbalm and stood up. It was your innitiative to even be there, you could push it a bit more.
On bare feet, you walked out of his room. You made your way downstairs, where you could hear some dishes clinking in the kitchen. If he was hungry after work, you were about to give him something to eat.
You smoothed out the silky material of the short dress you had on, before stepping into the room. You cleared your throat, because you didnāt want to scare him withā
āOh my God!ā You screamed, as soon as you saw that the man standing in the kitchen wasnāt your boyfriend. Your hands shot to your chest to cover whatever it was there to salvage from your diginity.
Frank wasnāt surprised to see you there, he saw your car outside, he figured it out that you were inside by the open doors.
It didnāt stop him to look at you with eyes wide open, frozen in the middle of unloading the dishwasher.
Another sound of distress left your throat as you turned around and ran upstairs to lock yourself in your boyfriendās room.
Frank wasnāt supposed to be there, he should be on a trip or whatever, he just shouldnāt be there! He shouldnāt be looking at you, scanning you up and down in a split second, when he realized that was going on.
You jumped to your phone and clicked on your boyfriendās contact. There goes surprise, but the need in you had to be put on hold anyway after the embarrassment you just lived through. He didnāt answer, so you called again. He didnāt answer again. You shot him a message, asking where he is. You were met with nothing.
You hoped that he would walk in and save you somehow, but half an hour passed, he should be home long time ago, and he was nowhere to be found.
With humiliation heavy in your chest, you pulled on your jeans and tucked the dress into them, before putting on whatever sweatshirt you grasped first from your boyfriendās closet. You just wanted to hide it all and run away, because changing back into the clothes you came in felt like walk of shame.
At first you wanted to sprint right down the stairs, bolt through the doors and never have to look Frank in the eye ever again, but it would be so rude. Heās been nothing but sweet from the very first day he met you, you owed him an apology at least. You didnāt have a very elabore relationship with him, but he was always somewhere in the background on half of the meets with your boyfriend. He offered to drive you home whenever his son had a drink and you didnāt feel good with him driving a car. You always gave him a small gift over christmas season, because you appreciated him. He rarely used your name, it was only sweethearts and other cute names that made you smile shyly. It was sweet, but somehow created weird distance between you two, like he didnāt really acknowledged you.
So with head down, clutching your bag like your life depended on it, you went downstairs again, kind of hoping that you would slip and die right in that moment. He was still in the kitchen, putting the groceries into the fridge. He gave you only one quick look, before getting back to his task.
āI am so sorry,ā you said, fighting to not hide your face in hands. Frank let out deep sigh and you really envied those birds who could stick their head in the ground in that moment. āIām serious, Iām so sorry, I thought you wouldnāt be there, you were supposed to be on a trip and Iā I feel like a fool.ā
Frank closed the doors to the fridge and looked at you.
āI canāt judge you, I was young once too,ā he said with a chuckle and you didnāt know if he was laughing at you or was it supposed to loosen up the atmosphere. Your eyes met with his and he was definitely making fun of you. Just what you needed. āNo idea what trip you mean though, sweetheart.ā
āFrank Junior told me about it,ā you explained, before pulling your lips into a straight line.
He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. āSit down,ā he said, nodding to the dining table.
āI shouldāā
āYou have other plans?ā he asked, pulling two chairs away and taking one for himself. He got you there, you hoped to stay in this house at least until the next day in the original plan. No one would be looking for you if you stayed. āThatās what I thought,ā he said, as you sat down and pulled your knees up to your chest.
You were looking anywhere else than on him and Frank couldnāt help, but focus on the part of the white lace sticking from under the hoodie you were wearing.
āI didnāt know you were still seeing each other.ā
The confusion was clear on your face. There was a stretch of silence during which Frank tried to figure out whatās the best way to say what he had in mind without hurting your feelings. You were such a sweet girl, ambitious, always helpful when you came by. It hurt him to be the bearer of bad news, but thatās the least he could do for you, since he apparently failed in raising his son.
āI thought you two already broke up,ā he said, which didnāt sound as gentle as he hoped it would. He watched the embarrassment on your face for a moment turn into wide-eyed surprise, before coming back twice as heavy. āHeās been going out for some time with someone and now he hasnāt been home in over a week,ā he continued and you could only let out a bitter laugh.
You raised your hands up and hid your face in them. With every second, the pity in the look you were getting from Frank was only making you feel more heat on it.
āNow I feel like a double fool, a triple even,ā You huffed, voice muffled by the sleeves of yourā¦ ex-boyfriendās hoodie.
He said your name with such a fondness in his voice it made your heart skip a beat. āSorry you had to find out that way.ā
You shook your head. No amount of āsorriesā would heal the betrayed part of you. Especially since he shouldnāt be the one saying them. The one and only person who should be begging you to not curse him with an etsy witch wouldnāt even pick up your calls. And he knew you were back in town!
āI shouldāve seen it coming,ā you said in disbelief in your own stupidity.
Frank sighed, before reaching out to the leg of your chair. He pulled it closer to himself with a loud noise of scratching against the floor. Surprised whimper escaped your mouth, as you grabbed the table, because you thought you were about to fall. Now that you werenāt hiding your face, he said your name again. You werenāt crying, but there was clear sadness in your eyes. You glanced at his face for a second, before going anywhere else.
āDonāt do that to yourself,ā he said quietly.
He had no problem to watch your face. He was a grown man, he could handle seeing a woman in lingerie and move on. He could handle having you close, knowing that you didnāt even change from that lovely set. Such a shame that you dressed up and it all had to go to waste.
āIt happens sometimes, youāre young, you donāt have to beat yourself up about one relationship that didnāt work out,ā he whispered, brushing his fingers over your cheek. You looked at him and that was the moment when your eyes started to well up. āCome on,ā he said, rubbing this thumb over your cheekbone.
āI thought we would spend time together,ā you muttered.
āI figured,ā he said and you shoot him angry look. He laughed in your face, again. He much rather wanted you mad than crying and it was working. āFor what itās worth, I think you looked nice.ā He shouldnāt have said that.
Under the veil of wanting to shake you out of sadness, there was something really wrong hiding. The need so ugly, he almost felt enough ashamed of it to stop himself.
Almost.
You rolled your eyes. āOh yeah, because in those two seconds of me standing mortifyed in doorway you could get a good look,ā You scoffed, wrapping your arms around your legs tighter. When you first opened the package with lingerie and touched the lace, you were in awe how delicate it felt between your fingers. Now it seemed to be burning your shoulders, collarbones, hipbones.
He put both of his hands on your cheeks, very proud of himself and wiped any tears that spilled down when you squinted your eyes at him. āI thought it was tying up the whole look.ā His voice was steady, even if his breath over your face felt a bit shaky. āThe white, the scared look on your face,ā he said, keeping his hands on your face. They were rough against your soft skin, but it didnāt bother you. They were warm, big enough to cover your whole face, he didnāt do that though, he wanted to see your eyes.
Bottom of your stomach clenched and twisted against your will.
Your lips fell open, but nothing came out. His eyes trailed down, following the movement of your bottom lip. Maybe you didnāt really want to say anything in the first place.
āYou looked lovely.ā
His voice was low, you would barely hear it if he didnāt say it almost directly in your lips. You tasted the words, bit your teeth in the meaning they carries and liked the sweetness you felt in your mouth.
His lips burned yours, but the sudden touch of them was so gentle, you couldnāt get enough of the feeling. Your legs fell to the ground, you couldnāt find strenght in yourself to keep your arms wrapped around them. You wanted to touch, grab, but idea alone of adding anything on top of the wet, slow kiss Frank was sharing with you, seemed like not being grateful enough for what he was giving you already.
Your hands ended gripping the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing. You were scared that if you started wandering with them, you wouldnāt found any boundary to stop you. One of his slid down onto the side of your neck. He couldnāt get enough of your honey lipbalm, one of his thumbs pulled down on your chin to help you open your mouth. It was all to help you, feel better, think about pleasure instead of hurt. He did it all for you.
Quiet gasp left your mouth, when he sucked on your upper lip, before sliding his tounge over the slit of your lips.
Heat pooled in the bottom of your stomach. The need in his movement to taste everything you had to offer made you clench your hands tighter, squeeze your thighs in fear of falling onto the ground. He wouldnāt let you, he would catch you.
You missed the sound of car pulling up on the driveway. You were finally ready to grab whatever part of Frank that would be the closest to catch, when he stopped. Your eyelids fluttered open. He was so close, his eyes were slightly glassy, lips red and slick. He licked them and stood suddenly, just as you heard the doors slam and someone calling your name.
āNice seeing you there,ā Frank said to his son, stepping back into the kitchen from the dining room. He stood close to the kitchen island, hiding the heavy print in his pants behind it. He cleared his voice, when he recognized that his voice wasnāt sounding as normal as it should.
He ignored his dad, going straight to his room, because thatās where you were supposed to wait for him basing on your text, before catching a glimpse of you sitting next to the table with hand pressed over lower part of your face.
He only managed to say your name, before you get up in a second and walked past him. āWeāre done,ā you said, running out of the house. The air inside started to choke you down, realization of what happend moments before your, now ex, boyfriend walked in fell heavy on your heart.
You wiped your hand over your lips after you fumbled your keys, while trying to open your car. āFuck,ā you breathed out and involuntarily gave one, just one glimpse to the window in the kitchen. Frank was right there, meeting your eyes.
He already knew, sooner or later, youāll be back.
frank doesn't like giving up control, especially not in the bedroom. but when you try to prove that you can give as well as you take, he decides to entertain you...for about thirty seconds.
WARNINGS: pornwhatplot, cunnilingus, hair pulling, unprotected p in v, cowgirl, missionary too, r slaps frank and he's kinda into it, lots of talk about "making him your bitch", rough sex, lots of condescension, creampie <3
NOTES: i haven't written for this guy in years, but BND got me feeling things...this is pure brain fart FILTH.
Orgasms never come quietly, not when you're with him. That's something you learned a long time ago.
Keeping it down becomes an impossible task when his head is buried between your thighs, tonguing your cunt like he has something to prove. Indelicate and hungry; unapologetically Frank. You've never known someone be so brash with a mouth full of pussy. Never known someone make you feel as incredible as he does.
Maybe the key to female pleasure is this. Devotion that borders on cruelty. All tongue and teeth and scratchy stubble; a war waged by a mean mouth that knows you far better than anyone ever should.Ā
He groans against your clit, holds you firmly in place as the pleasure drives you to writhe. Brown eyes flick up, meeting yours through the hazeāface squished between trembling thighs, fingers bruising plush skināas he shifts, dragging his hips against the mattress.Ā
Eye contact proves too much for you to handle, and you let your head fall back. Your fingers curl into the sheets in search of relief but find nothing, so they move instead to his hair, driving him deeper into you as you sing his praises ("Fuck, that's itā¦"; "Makin' me feel so good, Frankieā¦"; "Don't stop, please, I'm soā shittā¦").
Climax hits as it always does; sudden, explosive, and fucking blinding.
Frank hisses as you yank on his hair and retaliates by pressing his tongue flat against your clit, drawing out a filthy whine and sending a fresh pang of pleasure shooting through you; electricity on electricity. A circuit overload.Ā
You lose a handful of seconds to the climax, and when you come to you've lost feeling in your hands. All that remains is the slight tingle of lingering sparks in your fingertips. The post-coital numbness used to freak him out until you explained the science to him, and now he takes pride in knowing that he can make you come so hard it essentially rewires your nervous system.
"Sweetheart," his voice comes out as a low rumble against your inner thigh, unamused, as he eases your hands from his hair, "you keep pullin' like that, and I'll go get the fuckin' clippers."
"ā¦hey," you mumble, a lazy, almost drunken smile creeping up your face, "don't act like you don't like it."
Scoffing, Frank pulls himself up and leans over you, matching your expression with his own, sharper, smile. "You think I enjoy havin' my shit yanked on? I swear to God, I can feel my scalp separatin' from my fuckin' skull."
"The Punisher can't handle a little tug on his hair?" You jut out your bottom lip, voice taking on a honeyed, mocking tone. "Oh, poor Frankie..."
"Real cute," he mutters. "Real fuckin' cute. You tryin' to piss me off here, after all the work I just did?"
Skipping over his question completely, you nudge him with your foot. "Get on your back, Frank."
"On my back?" He catches your ankle in one strong hand, holds it firm as he raises his eyebrows. "What you want me on my back for, huh?"
"Well, after all the work you just didā¦" You give his shoulder a light push, grinning. "I figured I should repay the favour. Make it even."
Frank purses his lips into a tight smile, and you watch the subtle workings of his jaw as he nods along with your words. "Right, rightā¦cause you're miss generosity all of a sudden, aren't ya? Bein' all nice, wantin' to take care of meā¦yeah, I'm not buyin' it."
You roll your eyes. "Frankā"
"No. No, I'm talkin' now. If I'm gonna fuck you, I'm gonna do it my way, and I'm gonna do it properly, alright? I'm not gonna let you hop on top and make me your bitch, sweetheart, no fuckin' way."
"Frank," you try again, like you're talking to a child. Cocking your head to one side, you gaze up at him through your lashes, using the afterglow to your advantage. "Get on your back."
A twitchy frown, a curled lip, and, finallyā¦a huff of resignation. It takes less than five seconds for his oh-so-stubborn resolve to come crashing down, and you didn't even have bust out the big guns, like saying "please".
Slowly, Frank retreats off of you, movements stiff and drawn out; if you didn't know him, you'd misinterpret his theatrics for pain. He flops down onto the mattress and stares up at the ceiling like a man awaiting execution, and you waste no time in climbing on top of him.
The weight of you alone is enough to put a crack in his sulky facade. He sits up, leaning back on his hands as you make yourself comfortable. His gaze fixes on your face, soft behind that furrowed brow.
"You're a real pieceĀ of work, you know that? A real pretty piece ofāĀ fuckā"
You sink onto his cock without bothering to warn him, and what you earn in response is a gorgeous, unfettered groanāall low and resonant, too caught off guard to try and suppress. It reverberates in your chest like a heavy strum of a bass guitar, hurtles down to your core and has you clamping down on his length like a vise grip, and you've only taken half of him.
Head thrown back, Frank wipes his mouth with his hand, cursing into his palm as he cleans up the slow-drying mess of sweat and slick. "The fuck is your problem?" he grunts. "You can't give me a goddamn minute?"
"What?" You steady yourself on his shoulders, breathless, as you take him to the hilt, hips flush against each other. His cock sits so nicely inside of you, pushing up against that spongy spot that'll have you unravelling far too soon if you aren't careful. Teeth clenched, you push through the pleasure to taunt him. "ā¦Can't take it?"
He barks out a laugh, but it's weak. Frail at the edges. The effect that you're having on him is something he can't quite mask, even as he snarls. "Oh, I can take it," he murmurs, licking his lips as he flashes you a dark smile. "You sure you can give it, sweetheart?"
A rough jerk of his hips sends you reeling, rips a moan from your throat as your curl your fingers into his shoulders, nails digging into rough skin. Pleasure takes root in your stomach, blooms into static.
"'Cause you seem pretty fuckin' shaky to me." He's grinning now, teeth bared as he watches you struggle to stay composed. "How 'bout you stop being such a damn brat and let me fuck you, huh? I'll be nice, I swearā¦"
He brushes his knuckles against the flushed skin of your cheek, chases your lips with his own as you try to pull away. Hot breath fans across your face as he waits with smug impatience for you to cave, because, in his mind, he's already won; he can't fathom you standing up to him in earnest.
Which makes it all the more satisfying when your palm strikes his cheek. The slap is loud, but the force behind it is minimal; just enough to surprise him.
And he laughs in your face.
"Oh, what's wrong?" He tilts his head, eyeing you with shameless amusement. "Am I pissin' you off, pretty girl? Is Frankie makin' you all mad? Aww, you poor thing." A firm hand grabs your jaw, holds it steady as he smiles up at you, expression nothing but pure glee. "You're gonna have to do a lot better than thatā"
The second slap is the real thing.Ā
His head snaps back with a sharp grunt and, for a couple seconds, you wipe that smile clean from his face.Ā
"On your back," you repeat, trying to keep the pride swelling in your chest from spilling into your voice.
Inside you, his cock jumps.
Frank leans back, taking a moment to study you as his lips curl back up into a smileābut this one reads more as impressedĀ than it does smug. Something about it makes your heart leap into your throat.
"You've got bigger balls than I thought," he murmurs. The cheek that you struck is turning red. "And what if I misbehave? You gon' hit me again?"
ā¦Christ,Ā nowĀ who's the brat?
You raise your hand, daring him to keep talking, but you can't help the smile that cracks your stern look as he flinches away with a defensiveĀ "woahh!".Ā
"Easy there, sweetheart." He catches your wrist, uses it to pull you in closer. "Wouldn't wanna hurt that pretty lil' hand of yours beatin' on me, would you?"
Before you can respond, he silences you with a kiss. You feel him grinning against your lips as he lies back, bringing you down on top of him. The movement alone is enough to make both of you moan, and you grind down on him instinctively, desperate to pull more noises from him.
Breaking the kiss, you sit up, one hand on his chest to keep him down as you roll your hips. He melts under you, head thrown back against the mattressĀ as he resigns himself to watching you.Ā
His large hands find your waist, but he doesn't try to hold you still or guide you as he usually would; no, just this once, he's letting you take the reins, set the pace, take controlāthe tiny amount he's willing to relinquish.
"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, thumbs pressing into your lower stomach as you find a rhythm that suits both of you. "That's it, that's my girl, taking me so fuckin' wellā¦"
The praise does straight to your head, and you're sure he can feel it in the way you clench around him. He drums his fingers against your sides, not bothering to hide his smug little smirk.
"Lookin' like a damn angel," he continues, slipping a hand down until his calloused fingers find your swollen clit. It makes you jolt, pulls a moan from your lips as he applies a little pressure on the oversensitive bundle of nerves. "Doin' all the work and still lookin' so prettyā that too much, sweetheart?"
"Frankā" You can barely keep yourself upright. In a matter of seconds, he's ruined your composure; his focus on your clit, paired with the feel of being stuffed so full of his cockā it is too much. "Frankie, if you keep doing that, I'māfuckā¦"
That must be exactly what he wants to hear, because he doesn't let up. "You gonna come again? Already?" he coos, matching your deteriorating rhythm with his own thrusts.Ā
"'s too muchā¦" you mumble. Humiliation burns in your cheeks, but you don't dare tell him to stop, not when you're this close.
"Awā¦" He pouts. "I thought you said you could handle givin'?"
"Thisā this isn'tā¦fair, Frank."
"'Course it isn't," he grunts, pinchingā yes, pinching your clit like it's some kind of toy as you whine on top of him, "I said I wasn't gonna let you make me your bitch. What, you thought I was kiddin'?"
All you can do at that point is close your eyes. Keeping your hands on his chest for balance, nails cutting into his skin, you let him push you over the edgeāand it hits hard. An unbearable warmth deep in your core, and the relief of it catching fire.
You don't notice his arms bracing, hands anchored on your waist, until he's flipping you over.
Your back hits the mattress, and before the orgasm can finish wrecking you, Frank is competing with it, dragging it out as he drives himself into you at a pace that'll leave you bruised for days. He's cursing in your ear, breath hot against the skin, but you can barely hear him over the sound of your own vulgar moans and the wet sound of skin hitting skin. Over and over.
Orgasms weave into each other, when you're with him. That's another thing you learned a long time ago.
You grow numb to everything but your own devastating pleasure, lose track of where one climax ends and another begins. Your walls pulse around him like a constant, feverish heartbeat until he dumps his cum deep inside you, and even then your body struggles to let him go, stays clenched around him like it's staking its claim.
When he pulls out, he does so carefully; kisses your forehead, shushes every whimper. He flops down beside you and wastes no time in pulling you close, almost smothering you with his chest, like you'll break if he doesn't physically hold you together. But you don't complain; he's warm. He's Frank.
"You good?" he asks after a moment, once you've both caught your breath.Ā
"Mhm." You nod, nuzzling his chest. Your voice is a little hoarse, hands still a little numb, and you're sure you must look a right wreckābut you've been in worse states after sex, that's for sure. "ā¦I'll make you my bitch one day."
"Ha!"Ā is his only response, smug and sarcastic, riddled with affection. He pats the top of your head the way he would a dog's and murmurs in this stupidly soft, mocking tone, "You gotta work on those weak ass slaps, first."
Ū¶ą§ Frank doesnāt mind the quiet moments. He enjoys just quietly sitting at a cafe sharing a hot drink, admiring the way you look as you look through the window
Ū¶ą§ That being said he never forces conversation. In the beginning he might of had tried to start small talks with you, but that being only because he wanted to get to know you better, but when he realised youāre just more to the quiet side he lets the conversation flow by itself
Ū¶ą§ Frank doesnāt mind talking for you. He knows your order by heart, and doesnāt have any troubled ordering for you. When someone comes to talk to the two of you he can tell by your body language if youād rather stay quiet, and so heāll talk for you
Ū¶ą§ He never gets in the way when you try to be brave though. When he sees you starting to order yourself or spark up a conversation with someone, heāll put a comforting hand your lower back, encouraging you to go on
Ū¶ą§ He learns to notice when everything around you feels too much or when you start to get nervous, he notices the way you start to fidget with your necklace or with the sleeve of your shirt. He puts his hand on yours, a silent offer of fidgeting with his hand instead, heāll ask if you need anything; water? Space?. And he doesnāt have any trouble coming up with excuses for the two of you to leave some gathering
Ū¶ą§ Frank never makes you feel bad for being quiet or shy. One time you had asked him if heās bothered by your shyness, after you had heard someone say āthe one with Frank barely talksā . After your question Frank had looked you as if youāve grown another head. After he realized your question was serious all he said was āI like you exactly how youāre, I couldnāt care less what the others sayā
Tags: @userhotd @littlelovebiird @vlarrtrgryn {feel free to comment, message or send me an ask if youād like to be tagged in my future posts!}
A/N: saw the new spiderman movie and im a sucker for the punisher as well, i just had to write a Frank fic so here we are!!
Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.4k
WARNING: !!!! Spider-Man: Brand New Day spoiler !!!!
SUMMARY:Ā You're surprised to see Spider-Man and an unknown girl at your boyfriend's hideout. Learning about what the kid is going through you discuss what you'd do if it happened to you, if you forgot about Frank.
MASTERLISTĀ |Ā SUPPORT ME!
Walking into the old warehouse thatās Frankās hideout you notice that something is off, instantly. Some of the traps have been triggered, thatās obvious and your heart rate jumps instantly as scenarios fill your mind where Frank is ambushed by criminals, hurt and alone. But then you realize thereās no signs of fighting, no blood, no bullet holes in the walls, itās like someone just walked in, accidentally tripped over the wires and was then invited inside by Frank himself.Ā
You make your way down into the bunker where he lives, hiking your bag higher on your shoulder so you donāt drop it and cautiously look around once youāre in the tiny kitchen area. You remember the first time you were here, Frank didnāt want you to see where he lives, he was afraid his lifestyle would scare you away for good.
āFrank, you could live under a rock and Iād still love you,ā you told him before kissing him softly and making yourself home.Ā
Youāve offered him to move in with you several times before, but one, you live in a literal shoebox thatās filled to the brim with your stuff, he wouldnāt be able to fit a single sock in there and two, you kinda both agreed that keeping his weapons and all kind of weird tech stuff away from your home is a great idea, so he stayed in the warehouse, you stayed in your apartment and you rotate between the two places.Ā
Looking around you notice two extra cups on the table, three plates in the sink with some chili smeared on them, instant signs that he is not alone. You drop your bag by the wall and as you walk further inside you see two sleeping figures in the back room. A girl on the top bed andā¦
Is that Spider-Man?
Your eyes widen just when two hands grab your waist, pulling you back.Ā
āShh, donāt wake the kids,ā Frank murmurs into your ear and pulls you into his bedroom.Ā
āIs that fucking Spider-Man sleeping in the back?ā you gape at him once you turn in his arms, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders instantly. Frank growls, like he is irritated, but you see something else in his eyes too.
āHe is in trouble and now he is hiding his girlfriend here as well. Fucking nuts.ā
āGirlfriend? Spider-Man has a girlfriend?ā
āWell, he is clearly in love with her, but she doesnāt remember him or some shit? I donāt know, he rambles too much and makes no sense to me most of the time,ā he sighs, his gaze settling on your face as he pulls you closer against him. āDidnāt know you were dropping by today.ā
You love how his voice turns softer when he is talking to you and though he would never admit, his whole being turns mushier once youāre around.Ā
āI could get off work earlier and thought I would surprise you.ā
Leaning in you kiss him softly and when he hums happily against your lips you canāt help but smile.Ā
āHave you eaten?ā he asks pulling back. āSaved some chili for you.ā
āYouāre sweet, but Iām good. Iām gonna take a quick shower and then we can go to bed.ā
āGo ahead, Princess,ā he winks, giving your ass a gentle smack as he lets you go.Ā
Twenty minutes later youāre climbing into bed next to him, wearing one of his shirts. He drops the book heās been reading instantly and opens his arms so you can climb into his embrace under the covers.Ā
āMm, you smell good,ā he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
āI used your soap, I literally smell like you,ā you chuckle.Ā
Moving around Frank rolls to his back and you lie half on top of him, chin resting on his chest. His hands are aimlessly wandering your body, slipping under the shirt, drawing circles on your soft skin.Ā
āAre they in trouble?ā you ask, nodding towards the other room where the two guests are sleeping.
āYeah, I guess.ā
āYouāre gonna help them, right?ā
āItās his business, not mine,ā he growls with a frown, but you pinch his peck lightly. āOw!ā
āDonāt even try to tell me you donāt care about that kid. We both know you do.ā
āWhat gives you the idea?ā He asks, arching an eyebrow at you.Ā
āThe fact that he is sleeping in the other room. You havenāt let anyone here before.ā
āI let you.ā His gaze softens and a tiny smile tugs on his lips.
āOkay, you let me here and you love me, right?ā
āOf course I love you.ā
āSo that means you let people here who you love and care about.ā
Frank opens his mouth to say something, but he canāt argue. He sighs in defeat as you smirk at him.Ā
āSure, Iāll help him,ā he mumbles, giving your hips a squeeze.Ā
āBecause youāre a good man,ā you tell him, pressing a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it.Ā
You both go silent for a while. Listening to his steady heartbeat you stare at a photo of the two of you pinned to the wall above his dresser. You love that picture, it was taken on your birthday last year, it was still at a time when Frank was fighting himself over you. It took him a long time to allow himself to love you and not feel bad about it. He was so paranoid that something would happen to you, he tried to stay away from you over and over again, but he always ended up crawling back to you until he just gave up and accepted that he canāt live without you.Ā
And you feel the same.Ā
You have never loved a man like you love him and itās scary and sometimes you hurt each other but you wouldnāt want to live a life without him in it.Ā
āYou said she forgot him? The girl, she forgot Spider-Man?ā you ask, still looking at the picture.
āYeah. The kid said something aboutā¦ a magic spell or some shit? I donāt know.ā
āThat must be horrible.ā
Frank just hums, but doesnāt say anything. Lifting your head you look at him, finding him already watching you.Ā
āIf I forgot you, would you come after me and try to get me back?ā
His eyes darken as he thinks about your words. His fingers that have been gently caressing your sides stop and you feel him gripping you, like youāre about to slip out of his hold.Ā
āI donāt know. That would be a chance for you to not be a target anymore,ā he then says.Ā
āBut I told you I would rather be a target than live without you,ā you remind him. Reaching up you cup his face gently, running your thumb across his cheekbone. He leans into your touch instantly.Ā
āI know. That doesnāt mean I stopped worrying about you.ā
You understand him and his worries. It hasnāt been a battle only heās been fighting, you tried to prioritize your safety as well, but you felt miserable every time you put distance between you and him. At last you had to realize itās a price youāre willing to pay to love him and be loved by him.Ā
āI would want you to find me,ā you tell him after a few beats of silence.Ā
āYeah?ā
āYes. I would want to get to know you again and fall in love with you again.ā
You see that soft shift in his gaze again, his hands squeezing you tighter. Pushing yourself up you move up on his body until you can kiss him. At first itās soft and gentle, but it turns deep and passionate quite fast, as if youāre actually about to forget him and you want to drink up every bit of each other one last time, though thatās not happening. You still remember and love him just like a minute, an hour, a day or months ago.Ā
āI think,ā you whisper, panting against his lips, āI think I could never forget you.ā
āYeah?ā he asks, biting your lower lip playfully.
āMhm. I love you way too much to ever forget about you.āĀ
Grabbing his hand thatās on your naked thigh you pull it up until itās laid over your heart.Ā
āYouāre here. Forever.ā
āForever,ā he breathes out through hazy eyes as your heart pounds against his palm. Then he kisses you, repeating that word over and over again with his actions, showing you that he feels the same way.Ā
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed andĀ buy me a coffeeĀ if you want to support me!
Having Life360 with Frank would be a blessing and a curse.
Your location? heās stalking your bubble like a hawk out of pure protectiveness; destined to be the first at the scene if shit goes south. The mere idea riddled him with anxious thoughts. So when the respective notification, ā(Y/n) left homeā appeared on his phone Frank stopped whatever he was doing and hyper-fixated until you reached your destination. Which often finished with a sweet text signifying you were safe and breathing.
(Y/n): Made it to work Frankie. Love you
Ever since your accident, which was only a minuscule fender bender might I add, Frank couldnāt forgive himself for not being present when it mattered most. Even after you proclaimed multiple times that you were okay, just frightened. That didnāt matter to him. In Franks mind, his precious girl was in trouble and he was resided at home when he shouldāve been with you. Never again.
Butā¦.then Frank discovered other attributions the app included. Like a speedometer. A crash detection. Phone use detection. Which he proudly subscribed to like a worrisome dad (even though the man struggled with sending a simple email), which annoyed you to no end. Wanting to forcefully delete the app altogether.
Frank would send you various messages throughout the day. Expressing his dire need for you to be safe at all costs.
Frank: 55 in a 40? Slow down mama. Need you to make it home.
Frank: Get off your phone.
Frank: Where you headed?
Frank: Bring home food.
Frank: Love you. Make it home to me.
Frank: Keep driving stupid sweet girl and Iāll throw that shit bucket off a bridge.
like before frank even walked in the room he could hear whimpers and moans from the door, he wasnāt concerned or anything he was just coming in to check on you guys and as soon as he walked in he just saw peter behind you, his hand tightly gripped on your hip and the other on your backā deepening your arch.. your face smushed into the bed and your ass upšµāš«
just delivering the harshest thrusts and making sure his cock was reaching deeeep inside you, and all you can do is whine and take it as he makes you cum for the fourth time :( frank kind of just watches for a moment before he steps in, seeing your face all wet and hears all the soundsāyour ass slapping against peters stomach, how sloppy your pussy was after creaming so much on him and your whimpers for peter to slow down :(( aghhh just music to franks ears, āsl-slow down peter I canāt.. canāt cum anāanymore!ā it makes him so hard.. he would join in and make you cry some more if he didnāt know any better, but he does so he helps you out.
as soon as you hear the older manās footsteps toward the bed you gripe and reach your hands out for him, ādaddy..ā, knowing heās come to help you, almost missing how peters hips come to a slow stop. āalright pete, sāenough now go take a breather.ā frank says in such a stern tone that itās almost enough to pull peter out of it, heās breathing hard and looking at frank with his cock still deep in your throbbing hole, eyes still consumed with the color black. āsnap out of it kid im not gonna tell you again.ā, and they have a staring contest for a second or two before peters senses come back, the younger mans eyes widening as he looks around, seeing you all teary eyed and on your hands and knees in front of him :(
he immediately pulls out with a wince and hugs you, feeling so bad for losing control like that.. āoh no im so sorry baby, i-i didnāt hurt you did I?ā he says pulling back to look at you, observing your face and feeling relieved when you shake your head, āno! it was just too much..ā and he kind of just says heās sorry a bunch until frank intervenes.
āyeah sheās okay kid, sheās okay. just went too hard on erā. letās go get you cleaned up sweetheart..ā, frank picks you up from the bed and takes you to his room, cooing at you when you flinch at the arousal drooling down your legs.
frank puts you down once you guys get to his room, tells you heās just gonna start the bath for you to get cleaned up but you just feel a throb in between your legs :/ so when frank comes back you tell him exactly that with a pout, āit feels so achey frankie, need you to make it go away..ā
āmake it.. make it go away? oh i got ya doll, sāalright daddyāll take care of you.ā, and soon youāre on his bed all sprawled out, still naked from being with peter. you could see the bruises he put on your hips from where he was holding you, your thighs all sticky and your pussy so puffy, frank almost grimaces when he sees how rough peter got with you. ājesus baby..ā, frank mutters as he feels through your slippery folds, lips all sore and swollen from the friction peter caused. āpeter did a number on you huh sweet girl? got all mean and made a mess of this pretty little pussy..ā, you frown and nod so fast thatās it bring a smile to franks face, he chuckles as he rubs your clit a few times and dips his head down.
your hips buck up when franks lips latches on to you, sucking on your sensitive little bud and groaning, youāre so wet. your hole still stuffed from peter and spilling out your cum, feeling so tender everywhere from how much you came and franks slurping up all of it.
itās almost embarrassing how much you squeal when you feel the older manās tongue slither around your cunt, licking stripes all over and groaning :/ you hiccup when he comes up from your thighs, his chin covered in slick, āfeelin any better princess? that ache go away yet?ā
you know you could cum again if frank kept up with his licking, and even if your āacheā did go away. āmm not yet daddy.. need you to do it again, please?ā and frank could only smile at you as he bends down again, bringing your legs on top of his shoulders and holding them with his biceps, working to soothe his hurting girls pussy!!
āyouāre so good to me, sweetheart.ā he whispers, huge hands carefully circling your waist - as if heās scared he might hurt you.
he is scared he might hurt you.
āalways, frank.ā you murmur in return, both voices barely heard in the void of his bed.
he canāt quite believe he has something like this - something like you. straddling his hips, rocking skin against skin - cock nuzzled so deep in your soft, warm body that he swears he can feel your heartbeat. you lean down, nose brushing against his own, gentle kisses planted on each others lips.
āfuck-frankie, feels so good.ā the gentle whisper leaves your lips, his hips bucking slightly as you increase the pace, grinding on him. āi know baby, i know, doing so good.ā the vibrations of his deep voice run through you, the sensation hitting as your clit grinds down onto the hair at his base - you know itāll hit you soon.
ādonāt deserve this, donāt deserve you. god youāre fucking beautiful.ā heās talking to himself, if anyone. he canāt believe someone would give themselves to him, like this. so open, so vulnerable, so deep.
and when you cum- legs spread over his, shaking, and letting out those sounds he swears he hears in his dreams - he knows he has it too good.
synopsis : You, a vigilante, learns hand-to-hand combat from Frank in his warehouse gym. When a training demonstration puts you in a straddle position against him, the tension you two have been ignoring for weeks finally snaps.
warnings : Age gap (reader is in their 20s & Frank is in his 40s), references to violence, semi-public sex (warehouse), minor biting and gripping, and minor mischaracterization.
wc : ~850 words
You leaned against the heavy bag in Frank's shitty warehouse gym, nursing a water bottle that had gone warm about twenty minutes ago, while Frank adjusted the tape around his hands with the kind of focus most people reserved for defusing bombs.
"Your stance is still too wide," he said, not looking up. "You're telegraphing every move."
You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "You've been saying that for three weeks, Frank. Maybe I'm just built different."
He finally looked up, and God, those eyes. Forty-something years of hard living in them, lines around his mouth that weren't from laughing, and this permanent shadow of stubble that somehow made him look even more dangerous. Also, weirdly hot. But mostly dangerous.
"Get over here," he said, and it wasn't a request.
You pushed off the bag and walked over, trying not to feel like a kid called to the principal's office. You were 26, for fuck's sake. You'd taken down a human trafficking ring last month. You weren't some rookie.
But Frank Castle had this way about him. This gravitational pull of competence and barely contained violence that made your stomach do stupid things.
"Show me the chokehold again," he said, standing there in his black t-shirt and cargo pants, arms crossed.
He smelled like gun oil and soap and something else, something warm that you tried not to think about. You reached up to position your arms around his neck, but he caught your wrists.
"From behind," he said, voice rough. "Like I showed you."
"Right, right." You moved around him, trying to ignore how broad his shoulders were, how the fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his back when he shifted. You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, pressing your chest to his spine.
"Good," he said. "Now drop your weight."
You did, which naturally made you slide down a bit, your hips settling against his ass. You felt him go very, very still.
"Sorry," you mumbled, adjusting. "You're like, really tall."
"Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded different. Thicker.
You were supposed to be practicing the takedown, but instead you found yourself noticing how his pulse jumped in his neck, right there under your forearm. How his breathing had changed. You were straddling his thigh now, technically, your position all wrong for proper technique but somehow exactly right for something else entirely.
"Frank," you said, and you hadn't meant for it to come out like that. All soft. Questioning.
He turned his head, just enough that you could see his profile, the harsh line of his jaw. "You should move," he said, but he didn't sound like he meant it.
"Should I?" you asked, and you were definitely flirting now, definitely crossing a line that had been blurry since day one.
He turned fully, breaking your hold, and suddenly you were facing him with your legs on either side of his thigh, practically in his lap. The warehouse was dead silent except for the distant hum of the city outside and your own heartbeat in your ears.
"You're 26," he said, like that explained something.
"And you're what, mid-forties?" You didn't back down. "Last I checked, that's not a crime."
"Last you checked," he repeated, and his hands came up to grip your waist, heavy and warm and so fucking sure of themselves. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"Try me," you said.
His mouth crashed into yours like he'd been holding back for months. Maybe he had. His beard scratched against your skin, his hands pulling you flush against him, and you could feel exactly how not-a-problem your age was based on the hard length pressing against you through his pants.
"Fuck," you breathed against his mouth. "Okay, yeah, that'sā"
"Get up," he growled, and for a second you thought he was stopping, but then he was lifting you, his hands under your thighs, walking you backward until your back hit the heavy bag you'd been leaning against earlier. "Hold on."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, and he ground against you with enough force to make you see stars. The bag swung with the impact, creaking on its chains.
"You're supposed to be teaching me," you managed, even as you rocked against him, seeking friction.
"I'm teaching you," he said, his mouth finding your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. "Lesson one: don't start something you can't finish."
"Pretty sure I can finish," you said, and then moaned when he rolled his hips just right.
He laughed, actually laughed, low and rough against your skin. "Smart mouth."
"Less talking," you said, dragging his mouth back to yours.
He got his hands between you, fumbling with your leggings and his belt, and you helped, fingers clumsy with urgency. When he finally pushed inside you, you both groaned, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
"Okay?" he asked, and that gentleness was back, the one that surprised you every time.
"Don't go soft on me now, Castle," you teased, tightening your legs around him.
He huffed out something that might have been a laugh, might have been a prayer, and then he was moving. Hard. Deep. The heavy bag swung with every thrust, your back hitting it again and again, and you were pretty sure you'd never look at this warehouse the same way again.
He was strong in a way that should have been terrifying but was just hot, holding you up like you weighed nothing, his arms trembling slightly with the effort. You could feel the age difference in the way he movedāconfident, controlled, knowing exactly what he was doingāand in the way he watched you, like he was memorizing this, cataloging every sound you made.
"Close," you warned, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.
"Yeah," he said, his rhythm stuttering. "Come on, let me feel it."
You came with a cry that probably echoed through the whole warehouse, your whole body tightening around him, and he followed seconds later, burying his face in your neck and groaning long and low.
For a minute, neither of you moved. The heavy bag swayed gently between you and the wall. You could feel his heart hammering against yours.
"So," you said, your voice wrecked. "Does this mean I passed the lesson?"
He pulled back enough to look at you, and there was something almost like a smile tugging at his mouth. "You need a lot more practice."
"Good," you said, grinning. "I like practicing."
He let you down slowly, your legs unsteady, and you fixed your clothes while he did the same. The tension that had been between you for weeks was gone, replaced by something warmer, looser.
"Same time tomorrow?" you asked, picking up your water bottle.
Frank looked at you, really looked at you, and nodded. "Same time."
You were halfway to the door when he called out, "Hey."
You turned.
"Your stance is still too wide," he said, but he was smiling now, barely. "We'll work on it."
"Sure we will," you said, and winked.
The door closed behind you, and you could hear him laughing as you walked away.
so frank castle is a giver, right? he could spend hours in between your legs, eating you out in the way only he could, enjoying it like it got him off too in some way. he liked to pleasure you, liked the look on your face, and your hands in his hair pushing him closer. thrived on it. and he never asked for anything in return.
but in those days when everything went wrong, when the whole fucking night he spent in some shithole with a bunch of scums he needed to take care of, or when his head just got too loud with memories, he needed you too. he craved it, and he welcomed it.
frank liked that you always knew. and you always read him like an open book. he liked the way you sank down on your knees in front of him, or pushed him back on the bed and settled in between his spread thighs and took his cock into your warm mouth.
your movements were slow, careful. you sucked him gently, running your tongue flat over the sides the way you knew made his eyes roll back against his will, because he enjoyed watching you all the time. frank liked the sight of youāso pretty, so domestic and soft, sitting in front of him and looking up with those big and glassy eyes while you took care of him. he always reached out with his hand, sometimes just holding your head, sometimes brushing his knuckles over your cheeks, never missing out on your lips stretched around him.
you always worked him to the finish. always watched him carefully and took in the way his jaw clenched when he spilled warm in your mouth, the way he mumbled your name like a prayer while you stroked or sucked him till there was nothing else to give.
frank then always pulled you back up so you could be face-to-face. he kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue, then wrapped his strong arms around you, keeping you close. he murmured soft stuff he kept only for you, kissed your head, and your cheeks, and your lips like he couldn't get enough of it. he was tired, exhausted to the point of his body giving up on him, so he just let you lead for a few moments, obediently curling with you in your beds and falling asleep with the most precious thing in his arms.
š¦¹ frank castle carries you into the hospital. ( tw : violence )
it really was a "wrong time, wrong place" kind of situation. all you wanted was to listen to some live music and try a few new drinks at the local bar.
fights happened pretty often, someone flirts with someone else's girlfriend, a drink gets spilled on the wrong guy, or the bartender won't flirt back with a fragile man. a few punches get thrown, worst case a tooth gets shot across the hardwood, then the local security takes out the trash.
but not tonight. you've never seen that much blood before.
guys who were just laughing and playing pool lay on the ground, puddles of blood around them. the woman who sat next to you at the bar, you don't even want to look over at her.
you feel like you should be dead. you keep counting to ten over and over again trying to stay awake but the pain in your stomach keeps lulling you. from the shows you've watched, you know to put pressure on it but it doesn't feel like you're doing all that much.
pete, who was just chatting with you about teenagers, isn't downed like everyone else. in fact, he's the only one who isn't. you've been watching him narrow down the aggressors for the past minute, it's helped keep you conscious. it's so weird how things can change so fast.
it isn't long before the growling and squelching stops and the bar gets as quiet as it's ever been. pete just stands there, like he's waiting for one last punch or one more guy to come running from somewhere. he almost looks upset when it doesn't happen.
a small cry escapes you when your adrenaline spikes back down. his head shoots over in your direction like a rocket, eyes wide. before you can blink he's at your side, pressing down onto your wound. you keep crying.
"[name]," he says calmly, like he didn't just take out a bar full of guys, "i know it hurts. keep your eyes on me, okay?"
your breathing feels shallow, like no matter how hard you try to breathe it's never full. suddenly, he lifts you up in his arms. you scream and grip onto his bloody shirt like your life depends on it, which it kind of does. your mind wanders to all the people in your life, how badly you want to see them again.
he takes you outside into his van. it's creepy, not what you were expecting from him. you'd probably laugh and make fun of him for it if you weren't bleeding out all over him.
he keeps talking to you, most you don't register. sometimes he picks back up on the conversation you had earlier, others he just tells you to stay awake or keep your eyes open. you just stare at him, counting his eyelashes.
you must have passed out for a minute because now he's driving like a maniac with you in his lap. he curses under his breath as he runs red lights, cuts people off, and you swear he's driving on the sidewalk half the time. all you can do is lean into him, but it actually feels nice.
when you pictured tonight, you hoped you might have been laying in his arms, but not with this context.
at the hospital, he rushes out of the van, screaming at the emts around the building. they hurry to you with a stretcher and he lays you down, you feel his warmth leaving your side. pete laces his hand with your own and squeezes tightly. he rubs your palm with his thumb.
nurses ask him a whole bunch of questions, understandably. what surprises you is how omissive he is. why? everything he did was self defense. when he notices your expression, his eyebrows downturn sadly. pete leans in close.
"i'll come find you," he mumbles in your ear, kissing your temple.
and just like that he lets go of your hand and sneaks off behind frantic nurses. you lean your head back and sigh. you don't know if it's better he's lying or not, but a part of you actually hopes he comes back.
based off that one scene from s2 ep1. i haven't finished the season yet though, don't spoil me please. using the name pete was so funny lmao, i hate that name he should have chosen something hotter.
š Regardless of how many times you've pleaded with Frank to soften his possessiveness; it falls upon deaf ears. Because duh you're his girl and if you get hurt on his watch he'd never forgive himself. You're out on the town with your friends? Guess what. Franks outside the dingy bar or restaurant in his car waiting for wobbly footsteps to stumble out the door; cursing to himself as he lifts you right over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing (obviously when your friends aren't look...too engrossed with their phones to see you kidnapped by a tall dark figure). Making sure his girl is safe and in bed with a glass of water and ibuprofen nestled on your nightstand. Not forgetting to leave a sticky note on your dresser; out of plain sight, but where you could find it clear as day. Eyes bloodshot with a thumping in your head as you glance over the messy writing.
Stay hydrated kid, see you later, Frankie
šSneaking off together any chance you had. The garage. Your room. Frank's car. A random trip to the grocery store beckoning your dad forgot to buy milk. It didn't matter because the second he had you to himself his lips collided with yours. Feverishly making out like horny teenagers. His hands gracing every inch of exposed skin, memorizing every inch like a forbidden map. Eliciting sounds from you that resembled heaven on earth.
šBesides the promiscuous rendezvous that Frank so eagerly yearned for every second of the day, it's where you both relished in deep conversation. Never having the time otherwise to converse about the pressure bestowed onto you from your parents. The endless desire to make them proud; getting a degree, work full-time, make a name they weren't embarrassed to speak about. It was a lot, which often lead to short and snippy attitudes. Angry at the world like it cascaded a personal vendetta.
Frank could see the tension. Eyebrows creasing as you wrote notes for an upcoming test; legs draped over his while you stretched out on his couch. The heaviness in your eyes as you untangled the shared mess of limbs, huffing as you put on your work uniform. Making it his own personal mission to make his girl's life a little less heavy. Dropping off midnight snacks during one of the many study sessions. Filling your gas tank when it just barely crossed the empty line; Frank not forgetting to curse about how it'll ruin your car...blah blah blah.
"Real proud of ya kid. Makin' sumthin' of yourself. Deserve everything this life offers. Ya hear me," lazily stroking your bare shoulder, your head nestled deep into his chest.
šWould he really be Frank if he didn't constantly second guess every good thing brought to him? Guilt seeping through every fiber in his soul as he constantly reminds himself of not only his age, but being your dad's best friend. What does that make of him? A weirdo? Where does his loyalty lie? Preying on his best friend's daughter? Hell he practically watched you grow up; a prepubescent teenager into an independent hell raising woman. It's what captivated Frank in the first place; finding your voice and never being the type to back down from a fight, verbally or physically. Debating with grown men over topics that traditionally didn't concern their opinion.
"Too good f' me," Frank would ramble off when he was in a certain self-loathing mood. Gaining your attention, studying becoming a forgotten memory. "Quit spewing that gross shit Frankie. You're the best that's ever happened to me. A secret or not," you exclaimed, climbing into his lap as your hands softly grasped the stubbled cheeks. "Besides...no one cracks it like you," shooting Frank a playful wink before attending to your previous task. The declaration pulling him back to reality.
God...you were going to ruin him and he didn't mind one bit.
šJealousy painted Frank like fireworks on the Fourth of July; explosive and completely unpredictable. Jaw clenched so hard his teeth threatening to crack from pressure. Fists tucked stiffly at his sides, knuckles white as a ghost. The veins in his forehead pulsing rapidly with possessiveness. Venom ready to spill from his lips at the drop of a dime. The mere contemplation of another man being within distance of you made Frank's blood boil. No one could even glance in your direction without catching a hateful look from him. Pulling you closer to his side as he fiercely laid his arm around your waist.
Frank loathed this side of him and so did you, but no one could tame a threatened lion. Just like how you desperately attempted to deter the conversation your dad demanded to have during Sunday dinner.
"Meet any boys recently?" The tension in the air rising instantly, your dad blissfully unaware of the raging tiger his best friend became.
"Uh....no not that I can say," choking out as your eyes briefly landed on Frank who squeezed the glass of water so tight, it bursted instantly. Everyone jumping from the sudden disturbance.
"Nice going asshole," sheepishly whispering to Frank as your dad went to grab a broom and towels.
At first he is scared that he is too much for you, that he is too scary and that his life is not worthy of you, but you make sure he knows that youāre serious about him in your everyday actions, like texting him that you love him or just making his favourite meals for him. Youāre not scared of him or of the things that may come with loving him because you know in any case, he will be there.
He always brings you home after your date or you spending the night at his house. He will always open his car door for you and walk you to your apartment making sure you get inside and lock your door behind you, only then, he will go home.
He is always very protective of you. His arm is always around your waist or has his fingers intertwined with yours at all times. If you both have to take the subway, which is not very often, he will always block you in between the door and himself so you donāt get suffocated by the people.
He loves to make you coffee in the morning and waking you up with it. He loves to see you barely awake sipping on the coffee he just made you while he cuddles you.
He hates having to leave you to go on a mission. He hates it even more when you worry sick about him at all times while heās gone. He tries to calm you by calling you now and then when he is able to to tell you he loves you.
He loves being your handyman and fixing whatever is broken even before you notice the problem. He especially loves the rewards you give him in the shape of kisses and other sexier things.
āFrankā¦pleaseā¦ā you whimper, pinned sideways across his lap with your skirt pushed up past your waist. His big, calloused hand comes down againāa firm, disciplined smack against your bare skin. Itās a harmless sting, but the dead weight of his palm has you soaked in a matter of seconds, leaving you squirming against the taut denim of his thighs.
āYou patched him up,ā Frank rasps near your ear. āHanded him food. You soft on him ācause heās your age?ā
Before you can even respond his palm cracks against your ass a second time, leaving you a raw, whimpering mess as your needy pussy clenches around nothing. He notices how wet you are, and a heavy grunt escapes him. You feel his cock harden underneath you, pressing firm against his jeans.
āHeās a kid with a target on his back.ā He mutters, his thumb stroking soothing circles on the slight red mark he just left. āAnd youāre out here acting like his nanny. You like playing caretaker? Is that what this is?ā
āNo-no, I donāt!ā You try to shift your body, seeking relief against your aching cunt, but his grip on your hip is like an iron vise. āI was justā¦ I felt bad for him.Ā Ā»
Frank drags his hand more firmly against the tender skin of your ass, stroking it slowly and possessively. āYou just felt bad for him.ā
āYes Iā"
smack.
His hand comes down again, this time landing firmly onto your other cheek. You choke down a moan as you feel yourself soaking your panties even more. You donāt want him to stop. You want him to mark you, then pin you down and fuck you from behind. You wantāno needāhis hand between your thighs right now.Ā
āFrank pleaseā"Ā you plead, shifting your weight and arching back against him, hoping he gets the hint.
He squeezes your hip.Ā āYou know what you need to sayā
You whine, squirming against his lap in frustration. The corner of his mouth twitches and he reluctantly moves his hand down, dragging his thumb across the slick, soaked fabric of your panties. āFuckinā soaked.ā
His thumb pressed hard enough to offer a fleeting taste of the relief youāre begging for. You try to grind your hips back, but he pulls his hand out of reach. āNot happening. You earn your relief. Say the words.ā
"I'll be good! I won't talk to Peter anymore! I only want you, Frankāplease, I need your fingers right now..."
He grunts, satisfied with your surrender and moves the fabric of your panties to the side. Two thick, calloused fingers slide against your folds, coating in slick. Then he pushes them inside slowly, filling you completely.
You moan, trying to arch your hips, greedy for more, but his free hand stays heavy on your lower back, controlling the rhythm. "Shhh... hold still. Just take it."
He begins to work his fingers in and out of your pussy, filling the quiet room with slick, rhythmic sounds as you clench tightly around him.
"Oh fuckāoh godāFrankāĀ“Ā“
He curls his fingers with precise, unhurried pressure, hitting the exact spot that sends a jolt through you while his other hand comes down in a heavy, stinging spank against your ass again. Itās too muchāthe relentless curl of his fingers paired with the burning tenderness of your skin pushes you completely over the edge.
"Donāt stop pleaseā" you cry out as your cunt flutters around his fingers, gushing on them as you cum.
He doesn't slow down, he works you straight through it, letting your overstimulated pussy milk him. Ā "That's it," he mumbles low near your ear. "Take all of it."
When you finally come down, trembling on his lap, he pulls his fingers free. He doesnāt speak, he simply drags them across his tongue, tasting you with a heavy exhale as his dark eyes lock onto yours. "Get on the bed. I'm not done with you yet."
synopsis : At a crowded party, Frank Castle overhears you telling a friend that big noses are attractive for very specific reasons. Once he gets her home, he demands she demonstrate exactly what she meant.
warnings : oral sex, face-sitting, established relationship dynamics, and references to violence (implied through character background only)
wc : ~750 words
The music at the warehouse-turned-loft party was too loud, the lights too dim, and the crowd too packed with people pretending they weren't carrying. You'd lost sight of Frank twenty minutes agoāprobably making the rounds, scanning exits, doing that whole broody guardian thing he did even when he was supposed to be relaxing.
You leaned against the exposed brick wall, nursing a beer that had gone warm, while your friend waved her hands around about some guy she'd matched with on Tinder.
"He's got this nose," your friend was saying, wrinkling her own. "Like, prominent. Roman statue vibes."
You snorted. "I don't know, big noses are kinda hot."
She paused. Turned to you. "Really?"
"Really." You shrugged, feeling the pleasant buzz of your drink. "When you ride their face, you know? It feels good. Better angle or something. More to hold onto."
Maya's eyes went wide, then she dissolved into giggles, swatting your arm. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous."
"I'm serious!" You laughed, but you were already feeling the heat creep up your neck. "Don't knock it till you try it."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you sayā"
You didn't notice the shadow that lingered a beat too long near the hallway behind you. You didn't see the way Frank's jaw tightened, his eyes tracking the line of your throat before he slipped back into the crowd.
The ride back to your place was silent in that heavy, charged way. Frank drove his truck with both hands on the wheel, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the road like it had personally offended him. You'd tried making conversation twice. Gotten grunts in response.
"Everything okay?" you asked finally, reaching for the radio.
Frank caught your wrist before you touched the dial. His thumb pressed against your pulse point, deliberate, and your breath caught.
"I heard you," he said. His voice was gravel over glass.
"Heard me what?"
"At the party." He glanced at you then, and there was something dark and focused in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "Talking to your friend. About what you like."
Your brain stuttered. Rewound. Oh. Oh.
"Frankā"
"Big noses," he said, almost casual, but his grip on your wrist tightened. "Said they feel good. When youā" He stopped. His jaw worked. "Show me."
Your mouth went dry. "What?"
"You said it feels good." He turned onto your street, the truck's engine rumbling low and hungry. "I want you to show me."
Your apartment door barely clicked shut before he had you pressed against it, his hands framing your face, his thumbs dragging across your cheekbones. You could feel the calluses, the violence he carried in his skin, but his touch was careful. Reverent.
"You sure?" you breathed, even as your fingers found the hem of his shirt.
"Yeah." He kissed you then, rough and claiming, and you felt it in your knees. "Want your thighs around my ears, sweetheart. Want you to tell me how good it feels."
You laughed, breathless, and he swallowed the sound.
The bedroom was dark, just the streetlight filtering through the blinds. Frank sat on the edge of your mattress like he was waiting for orders, and you climbed over him, your dress riding up, your hands shaking only a little. He helped you, big rough palms sliding up your legs, thumbs pressing into the soft skin of your inner thighs.
"Come here," he murmured, and you went.
The first roll of your hips made him groan, the vibration of it sparking up your spine. He wasn't gentleāhe didn't know how to beābut he was there, present and desperate and yours, his hands gripping your hips to guide the rhythm, his nose pressing exactly where you needed it, the angle perfect in a way that made your vision blur.
"Frankā" You gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling. "There, right thereā"
He made a sound against you, encouraging, hungry, and you felt it building fast and sharp, coiling tight in your belly. You rode him like that, shameless and loud, the wet sound of it obscene and perfect, until you were shaking, until your thighs were trembling and your head fell back and you came apart with his name breaking across your lips.
He didn't stop. Kept you there, oversensitive and writhing, until you were pushing at his shoulders, laughing and gasping and begging.
"Okay," you managed. "Okay, you proved your pointā"
Frank finally pulled back, his mouth glistening, his eyes blown wide and dark. He looked wrecked. He looked proud.
"Good?" he asked, rough and smug.
You slapped his chest, weak and giggling. "Shut up. You know it was."
He caught your hand, pressed a kiss to your palm, and the tenderness of it after the filth of before made your chest ache. He helped you down, eased you onto the mattress beside him, and pulled you into the circle of his arms.
"For the record," he mumbled into your hair, his heartbeat thudding slow and steady against your back, "you can talk about me like that anytime you want. I'll be listening."
You huffed a quiet laugh against his chest. "Seriously?"
Frank let out a low breath and covered your hand with his. "Yes." His voice was rough, softening at the edges with exhaustion and something warmer. "You looked at me from across that room and I was done. Three seconds. That's all it took."
You turned your head to press a kiss to his jaw, feeling the smile there. "Hopeless."
"For you?" His arm tightened around you, anchoring you close. "Yeah. Always."
You drifted off like that, tangled in him, the party and the world and everything else fading to nothing. Just you. Just him. Just the quiet after.
itās the way he grips your hips, fingers digging into the skin as his giant frame surrounds you, chest leaning toward your back.
āyou being quiet now?ā he grunts, one hand lacing itself in your hair, a makeshift ponytail to pull your head back - to make you listen. āwhat happened to all that attitude? huh?ā he asks, the sharp feeling on your scalp making you impossibly wetter than he already had you.
āf-frankie, please.ā you beg, thighs quaking as he pushes your head into the sheets beneath you - cock stretching you out, the burning surrounding your walls. after all this time, heās still too big.
his thrusts become more forceful, the push of his hips evoking sounds youāve never heard from yourself before - moans, screams - as the feeling of him leaning over you makes you feel small.
ābegging now? is that what youāre doing? nah babygirl, none oāthat.ā he spits out, teeth clenching at the feeling of you constricting his cock, nudged so deep he can feel the outline of him when his huge fingers run over your stomach. āgot your big olāfrankie behind you, after all that attitude, and now youāre beggin?ā
the feeling between your legs, deep within you, burns - and the words you were about to say leave your lips. your clit twitches, begging for his calloused hands to touch you.
his frame leans over fully, his weight folded on top of you - crushing you, almost - and all you can do is scream at the feeling of him bullying his cock ever deeper into you, and his hand finally slips under your bodies and onto the little nub thatās been begging for him for so long.
ālike it when i fuck you like this?,ā he growls in your ear, rubbing harsh, fast circles, ālike it when i make you cum all over me?ā
love reading ur works, if you could write frank x reader smut where there's an age gap (like reader is in 20s) i would love that :) i understand if not.
ā” Thank you so much, that means a lot! I hope you like this one ^^
ā” warnings: smut, 18+, big age gap (frank is in his late 40s, early 50s, reader in her 20s), dom!frank, spanking, degradation, rough unprotected sex, creampies.
~
"Where are you going looking like that?"
"Uhm..." You give Frank a puzzled look before looking down at your dress. "I'm going out with my friends."
"Not looking like that. That dress barely covers your ass. And those pantyhose..." His gaze travels down your fishnet covered legs. "You might as well walk around naked."
You roll your eyes at him. āYou might be old enough to be my dad, but you're not. You can't decide what I'll wear. Besides, I'm an adult. I can wear whatever I want. Andā¦āĀ You walk closer to him, pouting your lips and peering down at him through fluttering eyelids as you slide your hand across his chest. "I thought you would like them."
"Like them?" Frank huffs and grabs your wrist, pushing you down on the table with your upper body pressing against the hard surface. You gasp at his forcefulness, stare back at him over your shoulder. A jolt of arousal surge through your pussy at the sight of his furious face and dark eyes glaring back at you.
"You walk around looking like a slut, for everyone to see you. Do you want everyone to lust over you? Hmh? Fuck what's mine?"
Frank stands up and holds you down with one hand on your lower back whilst the other yanks your dress up, only to see your ass covered in nothing but those fishnet pantyhose. He growls and slaps your ass once. Hard.
"Ah!" you cry out and whimper at the flood of pleasure searing through your core at the stinging pain on your skin.
"Look at you. Not even wearing panties. Such a dirty, little girl you are."
He slaps you again and you moan loudly with pleasure, mewling and writhing beneath him as your pussy throbs with need to have him inside you.
Frank's dick is painfully hard at the sight of your ass clad in fishnet, like a gift for him to tear open. Fuck, he can't deny your ass look sexy covered in fishnet and the way your pussy lips puffs out through the holes of the fishnet.
Fucking hell.
He fumbles with his pants, letting them fall to his feet along with his boxers, his cock bouncing out, ready to delve into your pretty pussy. He growls as he hooks his fingers into your fishnet pantyhose, tearing them open, exposing your ass and pussy to him.
"Frank!" you gasp in a mix of shock and lust as he destroys your pantyhose, can't deny the fact that you fantasized about him doing this so many times.
"Shut up," Frank grits and grabs both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he plunges into your pussy in one, forceful thrust.
"Ffffuck!" you cry out, your back arching as his cock fills you up, stretching you out so perfectly.Ā
"I'm gonna fuck you like the whore that you are," Frank snarls and starts a bruising pace of fucking you. The desk rattles beneath his forceful thrusts and you hold onto the edge for dear life, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the room along with your lustful, breathy moans. Frank's hands grips your ass tightly, roughly kneading the soft globes of your buttocks apart so he can see the tight stretch of your pretty pussy lips as he pounds into you over and over again.Ā
"This ass is mine," Frank mutters and slaps your right buttock, making you moan through his thrusts. "This pussy is mine," he growls and slams into you even harder, his fingers digging into your ass.
"Y-Yes, Frank! I'm yours!" you gasp, pushing your ass back against him. Frank lets out a shaky moan as he thrusts into you a final time, spilling his cum deep inside you, holding your ass firmly against his hips. You come with him, at the sensation of his cock throbbing and swelling inside you, your pussy clenching around his cock, your body trembling with pleasure.Ā
Frank pulls out and spreads your ass cheeks, watching with ragged breaths as his cum oozes out of your pussy.Ā
You look at him over your shoulder, a satisfied smile on your lips. "I told you, you would like them."Ā
Frank chuckles and shakes his head. "You naughty, little girl."Ā
