#bernthirstextravaganza

[lucy-sky]

BERNTHIRST EXTRAVAGANZA 2021

December 31: Fireworks, Kiss, Celebrate - for Sam Rossi

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!

[chellestrash]

Cell Block D

this year im thankful for the fact that one day @chelseasdagger thought it would be a good idea to show me this scene and introduce me to Frank

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 7: End with a Bang

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Domestic Fluff. Crack. Smut.

Warnings: +18. Explicit.

Word Count: 777

Summary:  A very chill New Year’s Eve at home with Swaino.

You wanted to have a quiet New Year's Eve, and you got it. You woke up late and lounged all day on the couch, cuddling with Swaino in just a shirt and your underwear, watching movies, eating snacks and leftovers… but now, when the last day of December is minutes away from ending, you're ready to have some fun and spice things up a little.

You're by the kitchen sink when you decide to use the sprayer hose as a weapon on Swaino. Maybe it’s out of boredom. Maybe you just want to get back at him for making fun of you earlier. Perhaps it’s both… so, you catch him by surprise, when he’s facing away from you, by pulling the handle for a few seconds as you move the sprayer up and down, squirting water all over his body.

Breaking into laughter, you turn it off and stare at your shocked, soaking-wet boyfriend in his white t-shirt and his flashy red boxer briefs that say ho, ho, ho all around, that you got him for Christmas.

His lips curve up, but his gaze says you better run.

“You're gonna regret that, honey,” he combs his hair through his fingers, fixing it back in place.

Using the sprayer as a warning, you aim at him again, “I don't think so.”

“No? Watch me.”

He quickly has you cornered since you refuse to run and let go of the hose. You get to spray him a little more as he steps closer, but it's you that gets the worst this time when he gets one arm around your waist and keeps you in place, taking the weapon for himself to use it on you.

Now you're both drenched, as if you just entered a wet t-shirt contest. He'd win for sure with the way the thin fabric sticks to his skin, revealing the shape of his defined pecs and the little hardened peaks that are his nipples.

“Hey, my eyes are up here, lady,” he points a finger to his eyes, sounding mockingly offended at your blatant staring at his chest.

“I wasn't…”

Before you can finish your sentence, you’re squealing as Swaino suddenly picks you up, throwing your body over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom. In there, he spins your body on the mattress, laying you on your front, so he can straddle the back of your thighs, and use his palms to do a drumroll right on your ass. You’re laughing your head off as he gradually increases speed and intensity. The water that has soaked your panties makes it sound like a dulled splash. It doesn’t really hurt, and only lasts a few seconds before his palms start kneading your backside firmly.

Things heat up quickly after that, he pulls your underwear off you, spreads your thighs apart, and shoves his hand between your legs to massage the plane of your pussy with his whole palm.

You glance over your shoulder, biting your bottom lip, capturing the sheer lust sparkling out of his eyes, as if he was about to swallow you whole.

It doesn’t take him long to get you wet for real. It’s then that he removes his hand and buries his face in your arousal to drive you out of your mind– licking, sucking, and nibbling every inch of your cunt, as his beard scratches your skin.

Your core is ready to burst when he pulls away from you. He hastily removes his clothes and gets all over you again, fueled by how hard he is already from going down on you. He almost rips your shirt apart as he turns your body around, easily manhandling you.

You curl your legs around his hips and pull him flush against you, using your hands to bring his face closer and take over his lips. You moan into his mouth as one of his hands massages your breast, at the same time his hardness rubs right between your labia, collecting your arousal before guiding himself inside you.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he breathes lewdly, moving his hand up to frame your jaw.

“Uh-huh. I just needed to fuck you one last time this year,” your tongue curls, drawing the shape of his mouth.

“You’re cutting it close, we’re going to miss New Year’s.”

“Fuck New Year’s,” you pant.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

You hear fireworks going off before you get off.

He drives harder into you until you can’t no longer hear, see or breathe. He tends to have that effect on you.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he mumbles after you reach orgasm.

“Happy New Year, Terry Bear.”

Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics​

[anna-hawk]

🪒 THE MUSTACHE ACCIDENT 🪒

Relationship: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Fandom: The Punisher Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 739 Summary: It's all in the title really Prompt: Celebrate, kiss

I'm ending the year with a special dedication to the @pornstache-club. I'm still not into it, but Jon as Blake in “The Unforgivable” has warmed me to the idea of Jon with a mustache. @darlingshane mentioned how he looks a lot like Frank, and since I agree, I decided to give Frank a mustache. Forgive me, all you fellow stache haters XD. Happy New Year, Everyone!

You're in the kitchen and finishing the preparations of tonight's dessert when you hear Frank walking in, bare feet tapping on the wooden floor.

“Need any more help or can I go shave now?” He asks from behind you.

“Shave?” You whip around, spatula in hand, some pastry cream flying off it and to the ground. “Crap,” you mumble as you squat to wipe the drop away.

Standing, you find Frank watching you with raised eyebrows and an amused expression.

“Why would you shave?” You ask again, putting the utensils away for now.

“Maybe so our friends can see my face?” Frank chuckles, scratching over his beard, which, admittedly, has gotten rather long.

“People can see your face just fine… But you could… trim it?”

“Nah, that would take forever to get just right. And it's startin' to itch a bit anyway.”

“But…” You trail off, not knowing what else to say to make him change his mind.

“It'll grow back, you know.” He approaches you and puts his hands on your lower waist; you lift yours to put them on his shoulders. “I'll give you more beard-burn next year,” Frank grins with a knowing look, making you slap at his chest with a playful gasp of outrage.

“Fine… if you must.” You sigh dramatically and push him towards the bathroom, the man chuckling as he walks off.

You resume working on the dessert while you hear the beard trimmer buzzing to life. You don’t know how much time passes, but you’ve just put the cake in the fridge, when Frank comes back.

“Hey, how about I keep this for tonight?”

You had already been turning towards him while he’d been speaking, so you burst out into loud laughter even before he’d finished his sentence.

“What have you done?” You wheeze, staring with wide eyes at Frank with… a goddamn mustache.

Frank’s eyebrows lift as you keep giggling, a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds, but it’s rather useless.

“I meant it as a joke, but it’s not that bad.” Frank strokes his index and thumb over the mustache, from one end to the other, in a swiping motion.

“Frank,” you snort. “It’s a pornstache, is what it is.”

You laugh even harder at your own observation and see Frank mouth the word “pornstache” with a frown.

Frank rolls his eyes with a snort.

“Alright, Smartass. Gonna shave it off before you come up with any more names for it.” Frank turns on his heels and walks back to the bathroom.

“You’d have been a hit in 80s porn,” you shout after him, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes while you still laugh sporadically.

“Funny,” Frank deadpans in answer, making you snort again.

It’s barely two minutes later when Frank comes back with an expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

“Looks like I’m gonna greet our guests like this.” He waves a hand in front of his still mustache clad face. “The battery’s dead and it takes at least an hour to charge enough for me to get rid of this.”

You blink a few times as you take that information in. Your friends are supposed to arrive in two hours, and you hadn’t finished preparing the table and drinks yet, things you’d intended to do with Frank.

“So this is the face I’m going to have to kiss to welcome the new year?”

“You don’t have to.” Frank crosses his arms and looks down with a shrug.

You look properly at Frank now that you know that the mustache was going to stay until at least the next day. You usually don’t like them. You love beards and Frank’s in particular, but a mustache doesn’t fit every man. You let your eyes drift over Frank’s hair, slightly longer than he wears it most of the time, the soft strands having been casually combed back by his hand. The night blue Henley he’s wearing highlights his skin and suddenly, seeing his searching eyes and his fingers swiping over the facial hair hesitatingly, you can’t help but smile fondly.

“You know what?” You say as you approach him, linking your hands behind his neck to get his attention. “I actually don’t mind it. It’s still your face, and I love it… You.”

The small smile playing at his lips echos on your face before Frank leans in to kiss you sweetly.

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

[lucy-sky]

BERNTHIRST EXTRAVAGANZA 2021

December 30: Tender, Lonely, Surprise - for Chase Milbrandt

“Uh... What... Are you doing here?..” Chase’s face looks completely baffled as he opens the door and sees you standing there, a box of pizza in your hands.

“Well, umm... I asked Aaron where you live. Sorry, it’s probably not quite appropriate, but it’s just... It’s New Year’s eve, and... I just didn’t want you to be alone, so... Pizza?” You smile awkwardly, pointing at the box. Chase stares at you for a moment, and you panic a little as you can’t really read his expression.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble again. “It’s definitely inapropriate to show up like this. Bad idea. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m just... Really surprised. You’re the last person I expected to see tonight, so yeah...” he chuckles softly. “I’m really glad to see you though.”

“Yeah?” You beam at him, relieved. “So... I can come in?..”

“Sure.” This soft look in his brown eyes makes your heart shrink with tenderness. You know he’s been through a lot and you wish you knew a better way to help him, but at least you can be here for him tonight, and maybe it’ll make the things a tiny bit better.

[kwistowee]

FRANK CASTLE | DAREDEVIL 2.13 Some profile love for @bernthalus-christ

[darlingshane]

JON BERNTHAL REWIND 2021

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 6: Last Call

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Angst. Smut.

Warnings: +18. Explicit. Alcohol. Language. Crass. Offensive. Swaino is a douchebag. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1,6k

Summary:  Having Swaino checking you out while you work at the bar brings some unpleasant memories from high-school. Still, why start making good decisions now? After some animated banter, you decide to hook up with him.

Swaino has taken a seat at the bar and has been checking you out the whole time since his friends left about half an hour ago. It’s nothing new, you’re used to clients doing that half the time, but for some reason, tonight, it’s driving you insane to have him that close, scrutinizing your every move while you work.

He’s also been flirting relentlessly with a couple of 25 year-olds, but he glances at you when he thinks they’re not looking. You’ve been privy to all his yapping nonsense, that you hope to delete later from memory.

Maybe one of the reasons that’s riling you up is cause he doesn’t even remember you. You had a few classes together in high-school, but you haven’t seen each other ever since you moved out shortly after graduating. You’ve just recently come back to your hometown to work at this bar, of all places.

You remember Terrance Swaino clearly, but not so dearly. You did have a crush on him after all, a crush that was shattered the day he started pretending you didn’t exist after making out a couple of times with him. It was on you really, you had heard about his reputation prior to letting him stick his tongue in your face, but you were never the one to listen to gossip. You should have.

The clientele has gone down, close to last call, and the two girls that were hanging around him have left. Yet he remains on his seat, nursing his glass, and fixated on you like a hawk.

“Staring costs extra,” you finally dare to say to him the next time you refill his glass.

“I didn’t know this was that kind of bar,” he pulls out his wallet and places a few extra bucks next to his glass, “my bad.”

You roll your eyes as you cap the bottle and place it on the shelf, continuing your bartending duties, wiping the section of the bar that is empty.

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before,” asks Swaino.

“No, I don’t usually work nights.”

“You look familiar, though, where do I know you from?”

You can see his cogs turning for a moment when you glance at him.

“Think a little harder, maybe it’ll come back to you.”

He scoffs and takes another sip of his glass.

“Oh, oh…” a light bulb goes off in his head, and he uses his hand to point at you, at your legs specifically, “short-shorts, you uh… you played soccer. We made out that time… where was it… The lockers?”

“Short-shorts?” you shift in your boots, turning to face him, “that’s what you called me? You know how degrading that is?”

“What? It’s a compliment. You had nice legs… have, you still have good legs,” he quickly corrects himself, scanning your jean covered bottom half, “beautiful legs.”

“You haven't changed a bit, Swaino.”

“What did I do to make you so angry?”

“Do you need a list? Let's see… You've been preying on me like a creep, while you hit on other women. You just told me that you called me short-shorts, you probably didn't even know my name. We did in fact make out in the lockers a couple of times, which was completely a mistake, not only you're a terrible kisser, but then you acted like you didn't know me. Need more?”

There's a pregnant pause as he downs the rest of his drink.

“It's not healthy holding grudges like that, sweetheart…  Was I really that terrible?”

“You were a douchebag.”

“I mean, was the kiss that bad? Cause I thought it was great.”

“Is that what you took from what I said?”

He shrugs, “what can I say? I'm only as good as my reputation, right?”

You ignore him and his stupid-ass smirk to attend one of the parties that’s leaving as they settle their tab.

“Let’s make a deal…” he offers when they’ve left, “if I can remember your name, you let me make it up to you for that awful, terrible kiss.”

You almost snort, “what do you want? A gold star for remembering basic language? Uh-uh.”

“Okay, how about you just go easy on me? I was a kid. I did stupid things all the time.”

“You still are and do, by the way,” then you half-agree to his deal, coming with one of your own, “if you remember my name, I won’t spit in your drink the next time you’re here. How about that?”

He licks his lips and extends his hand up to you, “deal.”

You shake his hand, and lean your elbows on the edge of the bar right across from him, “okay, smart-ass. What’s my name?”

Swaino clears his throat as if he was building up to something like one of those mystery shows that cuts to commercial right before revealing who was the killer.

Then, he spells out your name letter by letter before saying it in one word.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could spell,” your eyes widen, comically, as you pick a pretzel from one bowl you have nearby and bring it to your mouth.

“See? I’m full of surprises.”

“I doubt that,” you click your tongue.

“Counter-offer, how about you have a drink with me right now?”

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“C’mon, you’re about to close. Have a lil fun, short-shorts.”

You let out a sight, checking on the one party left at one of the tables, and shrug, going against your better judgment.

“I guess…if you promise you'll never call me that again.”

“I’ll try.”

You know you're stepping into dangerous terrain agreeing to that, no matter how much of an asshole he is, you can't help but feel attracted to him and his smug, goateed-face. So you pour yourself a beer from the tap and have it with him while he grills you about what you've been doing all these years.

At some point, your boss comes around, asking if you're good for closing tonight because he has to leave early.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

“Don't worry, Boss, I'll make sure she gets home safely,” Swaino chimes in a friendly manner, giving that they know each other.

“You stay away from her and don't start any shit while I'm gone,” that's your boss warning him, “or I'll kick your sorry ass for good this time, Swaino.”

You'd be worried if the bar was packed, but now it’s down to him and that group in the booth, which doesn't take them long to leave shortly after either.

“Boyfriend?” Swaino asks, while you finish your drink with him.

You shake your head.

“Girlfriend?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to get to know you.”

“You think you have a chance, huh?”

“I mean, I bought you a drink.”

“No offense, but I have bigger standards now, Swaino.”

“Don’t you mean higher standards? Well, if we’re going for size, I have a bigger dick now. How's that for your standards?”

Crass. So stinking crass. And somehow it works on you. And you despise yourself for it, for even entertaining the idea of hooking up with him after that, and reducing yourself to that same level.

“As one of my favorite poets once said… it's not how big, it's how mean,” you wet your lips, finding his reaction completely unfazed at your response.

“What’s that? Dickinson’s?”

“Lady Gaga.”

“Hm.”

“How about you help me finish here, and then you can show me how big and how mean?” It’s almost New Year's Eve, so why start making good decisions now.

“Uhh…” and now you’ve floored him.

“Unless you're not up for it.”

“Nononono, I'm up. Totally up!” it comes out eagerly out of his mouth.

~~~~~~~~

With the little sense left in you, you take away his keys and choose to drive him in your car to your apartment.

You can feel the tension quietly building up on the drive. It continues as you cross the threshold and remove the heavier, outer layers before offering him a drink as if you were still at the bar.

“I didn't come here for a drink.”

All of a sudden he's all over your face, dipping to steal a kiss, slowly trying to figure out your mouth before letting his tongue slip between your lips and eating you with passion. You moan as he presses your back against the wall, his bulge pushing on your abdomen. It feels big, as he said.

A hand sneaks under your shirt to touch your boob, tugging the bra down, so he can feel all beneath his palm.

“Is this okay?” he pulls back from the kiss.

“Don't be a pussy, just grab me hard and fuck me, Swaino.”

His lips curl, and he follows your command, grabbing you like crazy, yanking your shirt off and then your bra, so he can take a better look at you.

He blindly undoes your jeans and sticks a hand into your panties while his mouth works one of your nipples. You're holding his head in place, burying your fingers in his hair, pulling at it when he circles your clit.

It all moves really fast from there. Having earned your arousal, he bends you over the table, pulling your jeans and underwear down, past your knees. You urge him to wrap it before fucking you, you might be crazy, but you're definitely not that reckless, so he does and pushes into you, stretching your opening, making your knees weak.

You hate everything about this— how good he feels inside you, how you squeeze around him, and how his hands grab your hips, slapping your ass a couple of times. How lewd he makes your sound, and how he grunts in the back of his throat at the same time. You loathe yourself for asking him to go harder and letting him fuck you unrestrained like that until you come around his hardness.

Credits: divider by @firefly-graphics​