Pls Write More Jj Smut, The First One Was So Good :(

pls write more jj smut, the first one was so good :(

ugh bby you got it. it’s what i’m working on right now ;)

your frank imagine was so good!!

you restore my faith in tumblr anon :) big love. for you, i will keep writing for our favorite boy

keepin’ busy

request: 5. “I know a few ways we could keep busy…” 19. “Pornhub is giving away free premium right now you perv. Get away from me.” 20. “That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re gonna be stuck with each other for the next four weeks.” with Frank Castle? idk how many prompts per request we're meant to send so I picked my fave 3

summary: frank’s been a lot more… tense, since quarantine started. whether that’s because he’s not taking his rage out on bad guys late at night or because he’s stuck in your house without a little privacy? that’s anyone’s guess… 

pairings: frank castle x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content, frank has nice hands ;) 

a/n: if only we could go back to a time where we all thought we were getting like, eight weeks off… hah…haha…hahaha…whew… on a less depressing note, jon bernthal is really fucking hot. pretty pretty please send in some requests for my boy frankie :( i love him so much. If you’ve had any ideas floating around you’d like to see written out to completion, now’s the perfect time to see it happen! maybe some smut, or fluff, or angst, or anything really… big love <3

He wasn’t supposed to be staying with you. But apartment hunting when your face has been all over the news recently as one of America’s Most Wanted criminals in the state of New York is kind of hard to do, not to mention when there’s a global pandemic going on. You knew first hand, apartment hunting was hard enough as is. At first, you didn’t really notice him. He would always be out going on runs, exercising in the basement in order to not disturb any neighbors, and guarding the streets at night, like a vigilante cop. Soon, he was staying home more than he was patrolling. Frank still got out from time to time, but it was hard to catch bad guys when they were at home, drinking and sleeping and waiting to be able to go back to causing trouble again.

You hadn’t touched anyone in weeks. You were starving for affection of any kind. You missed hugging your friends, awkward cheek kisses from your family, even shaking hands with strangers at this rate. What you wouldn’t give for a nice firm handshake… 

It was driving you crazy. Frank on the other hand, was making the most out of his time stuck in your apartment. He had recently gotten into a netflix show, you had noticed, which was just one of the luxuries exposed to him during the pandemic. He strummed on your old guitar, the one you barely played anymore, if at all. It was a surprise to hear, but you knew from the familiar sounds of tuning and plucking strings that it was not coming from the television. It was a nice thing to see, him hunched over on your couch, guitar case open on the floor, fiddling with the capo for a song he knew by heart. It was nice he could let his guard down a little bit. He was even learning how to cook, and could make a mean fettuccine alfredo for the two of you. 

Frank was a very domestic man outside of his nightly routine of making New York a cleaner place to live. 

Nights were different now. You two sat together on the couch, your head on his shoulder, dozing off against him as he tried to clue you in on what was happening. It was a gangster show, but that was the only thing you gleaned from his run down. 

“I bet you were a mafia man in a past life,” you said, breaking the silence between the two of you. He tore his gaze from the television.

“What?” he said, smiling down at you. You didn’t look away from the TV, but continued.

“Like, a mafia boss or something. Yeah, I can see that.” “Where is this comin’ from?” he asks.

You hum as you imagine it, ignoring his question. 

“You’re weird,” he comments, and he puts his legs up on the coffee table.

“You can see?” he asks, and his feet are in the way of the screen but you’re not really watching it anyway, so you nod your head against his shoulder. He moves his arm behind your head and rubs your shoulder softly before resting it over the arm of the couch. You readjust yourself, head on his thigh, curling up into Frank. It became easier to listen to his breathing when he turned the volume down a bit, fully aware of you on his lap. It didn’t take long before you dozed off, but when you woke up, you were in your bedroom, shrouded in darkness, covered carefully by a comforter. 

OVER the course of the coming week, the two of you get closer. You’d even become invested in the show he’d started watching. 

With your closeness, you hadn’t noticed you started touching Frank a lot more. 

Nothing you wouldn’t do to your other friends. It was mainly just laying your head on his, playing old hand games you remembered from your childhood, and petting the back of his neck. It was absent minded, and it was only because he had shown you how to cut his hair with his old beard clippers. When asked about why you would run your hands over the prickly surface, you explained it felt nice, and that you had the right to admire your handiwork. 

Later into the quarantine you ordered a palmistry book, and since nobody else was around, you asked Frank to read his palms. He of course was hesitant, but did as you asked, handing over his right hand for you to examine. His nails were nicely trimmed, you noticed immediately. The tips of his fingers were calloused, as were his palms, the skin cracked under harsh and constant use. He held the flashlight from your phone as you read from the book and bent and pulled at the taut skin there. You read him his diagnosis, and he said it was all bullshit, like astrology. You just think he didn’t like being labelled as a dreamer. 

It really only heated up when you asked for the massage.

You said it as a joke, but Frank was by your side, rolling his eyes and pushing up the sleeves on his black Henley before you looked up at him.

“Oh shit, you’re actually gonna do it?” You mused, flipping yourself over. Very briefly you were self conscious of your lounge shorts and novelty shirt that was a size too big. But just for a second, because then Frank was straddling your back, considerately resting most of his weight on his knees, kneading your shoulders with his big hands. His palms work the knots out and you breathe a little lighter as he trails downward, pressing hard into your lower back. It makes you moan a little bit, but if he hears you, he doesn't acknowledge it. He takes precious time down there, all fingers and knuckles and palms, pushing hard into your soft skin, almost like he’s done this before. 

You feel him back up off of you, and you note the lack of contact, making you open your eyes for a second. His thumbs push and pull the soft flesh of your calves. It’s only moments before they move softly up your thigh, sending shivers down your back. He goes just a smidgen too high for comfort. It makes your heart jump into your throat, and you wriggle out from his grip.

“Pornhub is giving away free premium right now, you perv. Get away from me,” you say playfully, smile on your face. It’s not contagious.

“I thought that’s what you wanted?” He spoke, confused. Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“You’ve been doing little things all week like that… ‘thought you wanted me to… God, never mind. I’m just… I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and stands up from the couch. 

You’re dumbfounded. You don’t know what to do. But you know you don’t want him to leave.

“What?” you respond again, this time with even more confusion.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re fine,” he says, making his way down the hall. Did he mean what he said? Did he say what he meant?

You stood up hastily to follow him, tripping over your own feet in pursuit. His hand is on the door handle to your office, which had since been converted into a room for Frank, complete with luxuries such as a pull out futon and fast internet speeds (thanks to the router being in there).

“Frank,” you said, stopping at the beginning of the hallway. You watched his hand grip the knob. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing.

“I…” you start, but don’t know where to go. What to say. You’re confused, and you don’t want him to be upset. Not even at you, just in general. You can’t stand the lack of contact with the outside world already. It would suck to be alienated by your… roommate? If you could even call him that.

“What is this?” you say, and he spins around to look at you. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused.

“What?” he questions, and his shoulders are squared and tense.

“Where is this coming from? I mean… yeah, but… me?”

His brows are furrowed and he squints at you suspiciously.

“You?” He questions.

“I guess quarantine is taking a toll on everyone, and you can’t really see anyone else… do you… do you really want…”

“Do I really want what?”

You could barely look at him, eyes tracing the wood patterns in the floor and the door behind him. 

“Do you want that, Frank?” You ask. Your eyes meet his.

“Do I want what?” He asks again, irritated. You sigh gently, and your feet move on their own accord, anticipation and worry festering where your heart should be. He watches you come to him.

You stand in front of him, your feet almost touching, your hands by your side.

His eyes are dark in the dimly lit hallway. His gaze is intense.

You reach your hand out to him, taking one of his hands in yours and squeezing it, pulling it closer to you. He moves his head closer to yours, tentatively stopping within centimetres of your lips.

Then he’s on top of you, pushing his lips into yours, unyielding and feverish. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck and you breathe heavily into the kiss, softening under his touch. 

He pulls away, and you’re panting with the intensity of it.

“That’s new,” you say, backing up slightly. He smiles mischievously.

“We can take it slow.”

THE television in your room is smaller than the one in the living room, and has remained largely unused since Frank moved in. 

It’s nice to have Frank in bed with you. There are flashes of color bouncing off the walls of your dark bedroom. It’s not Frank’s mafia show tonight. It’s the news.

“It’s crazy out there,” you interrupt. “Never seen anything like it.”

Andrew Cuomo is on screen, making important announcements about the state of New York, when he changes your whole outlook in just a few words.

Statewide shutdown ends May 15th, adding another month on top of your quarantine with Frank. A lot longer than you had originally anticipated.

“That’s... two whole months, huh?” He ponders, your back pressed up against his chest in your bed.

“I know a few ways we could keep busy…” you suggested, tracing patterns up his arm. You tilted your head up to look at him.

“That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re going to be stuck with each other for the next few weeks,” he spoke quietly, tension thick in the air. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. 

His hand cups your chin and throat, and you swallow hard, gaze unwavering. You lick your lips inadvertently. 

He comes in even closer, and envelopes you in a soft kiss. Frank being a sweet lover, you never would have guessed. Your skull is cradled in his big hands, and it makes you notice how vulnerable you are to him. Your neck exposed, bodies pressed against each other in a hot passion. His lips are a little rougher down other parts of your body, but his hands are always soft and firm, touching and squeezing and dragging his fingertips down your stomach. He’s painstakingly slow with it, and it makes your breath hitch in your throat. What a tease. He knows what he’s doing to you, and it drives you crazy. It would be a long night. 

Frank knows how to take care of a partner, too. Only in his case, it’s not bandaging and stitching. It’s much, much more pleasant.

OMFJDJDS I JUST READ THE THREESOME IMAGINE.... WHEWWWW that was hot😳

thank you! i have more smut coming (hah) soon! outer banks and also something special with everyone’s favorite husband, frank castle. i’d also like to start writing for more marvel characters as well and maybe even star wars! so please feel free to just send something in :) big love, pals 

hot and bothered

request: can you write one where jj and the reader have to share a bed at john b’s and jj ends up waking the reader up all hot and bothered? i love your writing so much keep it up!!

summary: jj and reader fall asleep together at john b.’s place. reader isn’t asleep for long when jj wakes them up asking for help with a rather hard problem. 

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: vaginal sex, unsafe sex, inexperienced boys, cunnilingus, lots of inappropriate kissing, almost voyeur? I mean they’re fucking on someone elses futon, so… 

a/n: WEAR CONDOMS. but... ask and you shall receive ;) this is porn without plot. big love, you animals

Only after 1 AM you realized it was late, when John B. excused himself to bed, making sure you had a blanket for the pullout couch in the living room. You were pretty much passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, and JJ curled up on the other side of the couch. At least he was liberal with the blanket sharing. 

You had woken up in the middle of the night, thinking it was of your own accord. Until you felt JJ from behind, lips lazily on your neck and hands roaming where they shouldn’t be.

“JJ,” you muttered, suddenly very awake. 

You listen to him groan as he pushes himself up against you. He’s quite prominently hard in his gym shorts. It helps you know for a fact he’s not wearing underwear. He grinds slowly.

“Will you…” he trails in a whisper, and you answer by pushing back against him. You listen to his breath hitch.

“Don’t wake John B.,” he clarifies, reaching under your arm to wrap his hand around your waist. He squeezes softly. 

You take the hand and peel it off you.

You sit up in the dark and JJ follows you, watching in the moonlight as you strip your shirt for him. He moves closer, stroking himself in his shorts and watching as you undo your bra with years worth of expertise. You hear the futon creak as you move to sit on his lap, fully aware of the erection in his pants. He kisses you, hands roaming your skin, playing with the waistband of your own shorts. He kisses hard, biting at your lips and soothing them over with a lick.

You slide off of him and kneel as you pull them down to your knees, and the breeze from a window you couldn’t care less about is cold against your skin. You slip them off and place them somewhere on the bed and arousal pools in your stomach, and you feel yourself throbbing for JJ as you lay on your back. 

JJ knows exactly what you want from him, and he lays down in between your legs, tongue eager and cock pulsing.

You fist his hair in your hands and bob his head to a rhythm you create, watching JJ grind against the sheets, hips wide and hands firm on your thighs, calves resting on his shoulders.

He takes his time, sticking his tongue out flat to let you move against him.

Soon the arousal is too much, and it only takes a few quiet minutes before you’re grinding hard and fast, whimpering under his tongue and coming undone at his touch. You cum, throwing your head back against the pillows and you can feel JJ’s wet kisses at your thighs.

He finds his own rhythm against the sheets and you’re afraid he’s going to cum, so you tilt his head up and push him away. His face is wet, and he grins, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Even in the dark you can make out the obvious tent, until he slips the shorts down to his ankle and struggles to get them off quietly.

“Shhh!” You hush, and he gives you a look that says, “I’m trying!”

He rubs his cockhead over your entrance, teasing, until he slowly slips his head in.

“Relax,” he instructs, leaning over you and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. He kisses your cheek and you smile as he rubs his nose over it, a soft eskimo kiss. 

He slowly pushed in further.

It stings, but he’s aware of himself, quietly taking his time until he’s all the way in. 

You find with each thrust, the makeshift bed creaks, but JJ is so blissed out you expect he doesn’t notice.

“Wait,” you whisper, and JJ stops thrusting.

“What, are you okay?” He says. You clench around him and he whimpers, but doesn’t move. His hands squeeze your hips.

“Lay down,” you instruct, and he slowly pulls out, flips himself eagerly onto the bed. You giggle quietly and hush him, planting your face into his neck and kissing him there. He breathes heavily as you settle back, lining yourself up with his cock, bending over at weird angles to make sure. He runs his fingers through your hair, and you look up at him and smile.

He groans as your hips meet his, legs bent on either side of him. Your hips stutter as you move, slowly grinding back and forth, being careful not to make any noise. You plant your hands firmly by his head.

It doesn’t take long before JJ is forcing his hips up to meet yours, and his breathing shifts.

“Ah, ‘m gonna cum, fuck,” he gasps, hands on your waist. You’re quick to get off of him.

He takes the base of his cock into his hand and continues with the same speed you were going.

“C’mere,” he pleads, and you’re hesitant to take the cockhead into your mouth, but do anyway. It would help with the cleanup after all.

He strokes the base fast, your mouth on just the tip of his cock, and he cums, body tense and hips stuttering and mouth open. 

It’s sticky and slimy and just barely salty down your throat, but you swallow, getting rid of most of the evidence in one fell swoop. 

“Woah,” JJ says, adjusting himself on the bed, his erection now half hard and lying against his hip. He lifts his head to look for his shorts, and you pass them to him. You realize you don’t even know what time it is. He lifts his hips and slips them on before laying over on his side to watch you get dressed.You don’t bother finding your bra, just slipping the t-shirt on and your shorts. Your underwear would have to be found in the morning. You laid on your side now too, looking at JJ. He smiles.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and you move closer to him. He accepts, and as he lays down on his back, you curl up into him, throwing a leg over his and resting your head on his shoulder.

With the smell of sex in the air, you can only hope you weren’t too loud as you fell asleep peacefully in JJ’s arms, you not as hot, and JJ not as bothered.

domestic frank is the best frank

Loungin’ Frank Castle