Frank Castle X Y/n - Tumblr Posts

I Gotchu

Click here for my masterlist.

Febuwhump Prompt - Used as an experiment

Prompt - ‘I'd fight the whole world for you, so rest now, you're safe with me.’

Frank had been sitting on the same rooftop for three days now, watching as people came and went from the building across the street. He knew the routines, he knew the shift changes, he knew which routes were patrolled and yet he still didn’t know what for, he didn’t know why this gang had shifted from killing every night to hiding away in an abandoned warehouse.

Sometimes he heard screams echoing from inside, heard them from his position all the way across the street and grimaced as he thought of what was happening inside. Tomorrow night he was going to move in, rid the world of the newest gang to pop up in Hell’s Kitchen and get in and out before he had Red on his arse, spouting the word of God and redemption to him.

A small chuckle made its way out of Frank’s throat before he heard the screaming start up. It was always the same scream, scared and in pain but try as he might Frank couldn’t get even a hint of what was happening.

He listened to those screams for hours before he sat down with a grunt and started assembling his weapons. Frank was a strong man but even he couldn’t listen to those screams anymore and what was the difference between going in today and going in tomorrow.

He waited until well into the night before he finally stood up again and made his way down to the building in between the shift changes, knowing that he could sneak in through the side doors and start taking the gang members down quick and easy from there.

It was laughably easy to walk into the warehouse, even more laughable how quickly he killed seven men, silently making his way through the building. He could still hear the screams and made his way towards them, checking all the rooms as he went.

The warehouse was big but it didn’t take him long to arrive at a metal door, rolling his eyes as he saw he couldn’t enter without a damn badge. He looked around at the dead bodies he’d left behind him before squatting down and rummaging through the pockets, nodding as he found the card and let himself through the doors.

“Shit,” he muttered as he looked around, this section of the building was nothing like the rundown shit hole he’d just come through, no this bit was clean and sterile, it smelt strongly like a hospital causing Frank to turn his nose up and walk further into the room.

There was only one door in the room, another metal one but he couldn’t see anywhere to scan in so tried his luck with pushing the door open, raising his gun as it opened for him quietly.

“Stop!” The voice screamed again causing Frank to stop in his tracks next to the door that shut with a quiet click that couldn’t be heard over the begging.

“Stop, stop! Please!” The voice screamed, vocal cords sounding hoarse and the screams were mixed with sobs and cut off when the need to breathe became too much, the sound of panting filling the room.

Frank watched, unnoticed in the shadows, as a girl writhed against the restraints that tied her wrists to the big, metal chair, restraints also tied your ankles and torso to ensure she couldn’t escape.

Frank thought it seemed a bit overkill, you looked tiny against the size of the chair, face sunken from lack of food, skin grey as you threw your head back in pain. Frank continued to watch, trying to see where the pain was coming from as the men in the room stood away from you, all staring at chart boards and the information that was showing on the computer screens.

That’s when Frank saw the white pads stuck to your temples and knew enough to know they were shocking you.

He watched as you bucked up in the seat, an ear deafening scream leaving your mouth as Frank watched in confusion as every object in the room began to float higher and higher before smashing down to the ground.

The other men in the room looked at their ruined computers before looking at you with disturbing grins and wild eyes.

Frank watched as one of the men stepped forward until he was next to you, leaning down slightly so he was face to face as he ran a finger along your cheek down to your chin and pulled your head up.

You looked up at him panting and Frank could see the defeat in your eyes, tears made their way silently down your face.

Frank lifted the gun up, aiming it at the man who stood close to you and took the shot without hesitation causing everybody’s attention to snap to him, everybody but yours. You just closed your eyes as you felt defeat run through you.

It was a quick fight, if you could even call Frank turning his gun on the other men in the room and taking them out before they could even draw their own weapons a fight. Then he moved the gun so it rested on his back and made his way over to you, crouching down so he was below you.

“Hey,” He said, voice quiet and gentle but he made sure not to touch you, “You’re gonna be just fine, m’gonna get you outta here.”

You let your eyes open, looking down at the man who shot you a comforting smile, letting your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“You’re not-” You began but cut yourself off as you started coughing, turning your head into your shoulder before taking a deep breath, voice hoarse after days of screaming and no water, “You’re not with them?”

“Not with them,” Frank confirmed, still smiling as he stood up, “I’ve gotta take these off you, alright?”

“Please,” You gasped, tilting your head towards him, “Please, please get them off.”

“Alright, I gotchu, you’re ok.” He murmured as he pulled the shock pads off as gently as he could, trying not to let the smile fall as he watched you wince and grimace. “Sorry,” He said as he had to tug harder to pull one from your temple.

It didn’t take too long for him to get you unhooked but when he helped you up from the chair he had to grab you before you hit the floor, legs weak and jelly like after days of not moving.

“I gotchu,” Frank told you again, wrapping your arm around his neck, his arm resting around your waist as he began to lead you out of the room.

It was slow work getting you out of the building, he had no trouble taking your weight himself, watching as your eyes closed and your head drifted onto his shoulder.

“Hey, you awake?” He asked once he finally got you both outside.

“M’awake,” you slurred, relishing in the feel of the cold air and the wind against your skin.

“Attagirl,” He praised and a small, tired smile made its way onto your face, “You got somewhere I can take you?” He asked as he crossed the street and made his way over to the van.

“They killed everyone,” You told him, blinking against the sudden flood of tears. “Killed them all.” You cried, lips pursing as you tried to hold back a sob but failed.

Frank looked at you sympathetically before turning you so your head rested on his chest, your hand coming up to grip the vest as you cried, remembering as the gang busted into the tiny apartment, killing everybody in sight, everybody who was there because they had nowhere else to go.

You had used your gifts, ripping the guns from their hands but you were too late.

“I was too late,” You mumbled against the vest and Frank shushed you, his palm resting against your hair as he held you close.

“C’mon,” He said once the tears had slowed down, leaving you sniffing and pulling away. Frank let his hand move from the back of your head over to your cheeks, using his thumbs to gently brush away the tears. “We’ll go back to my place, yeah, get some food in you.”

You didn’t hesitate to climb into the van as he opened the door for you, you probably should have but what more did you have to lose? Besides, the man had just saved you and there was something about him that seemed trustworthy.

The car drive was silent as you closed your eyes and let your head rest against the cold window, at some point falling into a light slumber. Frank glanced over at you and smiled before he turned into the first food place he saw and parked the van up.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, alright?” Frank said quietly, watching how your eyes snapped open as you turned to him but before you could speak he was already talking, voice low and calm, “I’ll be right back, just gonna grab us some food. You’ll be fine, I ain’t letting anything happen to you.”

You looked at him for a moment, seeing nothing on his face to indicate he was lying and nodded uncertainty.

“Attagirl,” Frank murmured before climbing out of the van.

Your knitted eyebrows relaxed as you smiled at the retreating figure before you settled back against the window and let your eyes close once more.

When you woke again you could smell fast food and felt the van come to a gentle stop but kept your eyes closed and only seconds later you heard the man’s seat belt unbuckle and the rustle of the food bag.

Frank got out of the van and made his way around to your side, watching as you blinked tiredly and sat up. He opened the door and reached over you to unbuckle your belt before he carefully helped you from the car, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and taking most of your weight as he led you up to his apartment.

“Shush,” Frank muttered to the dog who immediately started barking and dancing around his legs as the two of you entered the apartment. “C’mon.” He mumbled to you as he led you over to the sofa and gently lowered you onto down, watching you reach forward and pet Max as he went over to shut the door.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were settled in and eating, you were never more thankful for food than in that moment, days without anything to eat or drink had you feeling so weak, add that with the experiments and you were in desperate need of rest.

“So,” Frank said, pausing to take a sip of his drink, “what’s your name anyway?”

“Y/N,” You told him softly, holding out a french fry to the dog and missing the fond eye roll Frank gave.

“How’d you end up with them?” He asked, leaning back in his seat and giving you his full attention.

You shifted in your own seat before clearing your throat and looking over to Frank.

“Do you know who they were?” You asked him instead, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you and then shook his head. “The men in the room I was in, they were scientists. I was a part of their study years ago when I was a kid, I was sick and one of the doctors told my parents about a new drug that could save my life but it wasn’t approved yet so it all had to be administered privately. My parents signed me out of the hospital that day and then I don’t remember much just that I never saw my parents again. Whatever they did to me gave me these, these,” Here you trailed off, looking away from Frank and down at the dog who had settled in between your knees.

You smiled as you leaned forward and began petting the dog, finding it was easier to tell your story that way.

“These abilities.” You finally settled on. “I was there for a long time and then one day the pain was too much, you know? I didn’t even mean to do it, didn’t know how I did it but one minute they were pinning me down and injecting me with something and the next,” You paused again to let out a shuddering breath, blinking against the tears, “The next they were all pinned to the wall, each of them with needles barely an inch away from their faces.”

Frank listened to your story, trying to keep his face neutral so that he didn’t scare you when inside he was furious. How the hell could people do that to a kid? A scared little kid who was ripped away from her parents and turned into something she didn’t want to be. His heart ached for you and as he saw a tear make its way down your cheek he stood up and took a seat on the sofa next to you, gently cupping the back of your head and guiding you over to him.

“You’re ok, you’re safe now,” He murmured as he held you close.

You willingly went and buried your face in his chest, hand coming up to fist the shirt he wore as you desperately tried to hold back the tears but a few more managed to trickle down your cheek.

It took a few moments before you were able to take a deep, steadying breath, the sound of Frank’s heartbeat in your ear helped calm you down and eventually you began talking again, thankful that Frank was being so patient with you.

“I ran after that, ran as far as I could and did my best to survive on my own but it’s hard, you know? I was ten when they took me, I had no education, no family, I had nothing. I was staying at shelters and getting food where I could but then I met this man, his name was Paul, and he told me that he and a couple of others had an apartment they shared, they invited me in. I probably shouldn’t have followed him but it was freezing and it turned out fine so,” You shrugged, feeling Frank chuckle beneath you.

“I was staying with them, I was with them for a year and I let myself think I was safe but then a few days ago when everyone was asleep these people broke the door down and just started shooting everybody and I, I just froze,” Frank watched you close your eyes again, no doubt reliving the moment.

He let his hand move from your head to around your shoulders giving you a grounding, gentle squeeze, smiling sympathetically as you took a deep breath.

“They killed everyone and I couldn’t do anything. They knocked me out and the next thing I know I’m being strapped to a chair and shocked because I refused to help them.”

“What did they need help with?” Frank asked gently.

“They didn’t tell me,” You said, wracking your brain for any information that could help, “Something about a devil and making things hard for the gang they had working for them.”

Frank let out a soft chuckle because of course fucking Red wasn’t going to let a new gang wreak havoc on his city.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Frank said, “Why’d a bunch of scientists need a gang?”

“They were taking the kids,” You told him with a grimace, “Injecting them with whatever they injected me with except not exactly because everyone gets different abilities.”

“They’re using gangs to take kids?” He snarled, “Was that all of them with you or is there more?”

“S’all of them.” You told him tiredly, feeling your eyes pull shut and you struggled when you tried to open them so decided just to let them stay closed.

“Good.” Frank said darkly, he assumed there would be more gang members involved but Red seemed to be causing enough trouble there but Frank would still keep an eye on it.

By the time he pulled himself away from his thoughts you had fallen asleep, his shirt loosely held in your fist and Frank couldn’t stop his face from softening into a smile, letting himself stay there for another minute or two before he gently pulled himself away from you, shushing Max as he stood up and went in search of a blanket for you.

Your eyes opened heavily as you felt yourself being pushed down so you were laying on your side.

“Shh, you’re good, go back to sleep, I gotchu,” Frank murmured as he placed a thick blanket around you and tucked a pillow under your head.

You nodded sleepily at him, smiling as you felt the man brush some hair from your face and let yourself do as he said, trusting that you were safe with him.

“I gotchu,” He repeated and for the first time in as long as you could remember you slept through the night without a single nightmare under the watchful eye of Frank Castle and his dog.

_______________

Frank Castle Taglist (Link in bio, add yourself!) - @call-me-a-fool@urbestgrrl, @sylvies4ever

Selfish | Frank Castle

Summary : The two of you are a beautiful tragedy of selfish and selfless, the line blurring between each. You knew it was selfish of you to want him to hold you while you die, but you never really cared about being selfish.

Warnings : violence, character death, gore, blood, angst, harsh language, and other heavy topics

Pairings : frank castle x reader

Frank Castle quickly became a frequent part of your life, his smile and laugh replaying in your head like a broken record. Over and over it’s all you can see and hear, he is the only person that begins to matter. So as you’re pushed out of the red van, a bag over your head blinding you from the world, you see him. His smile, big and sweet, it makes you forget the dire situation you are in. In the moment you are grateful that he is the last thing you’ll see before you die, even if that smile of his is simply a memory. Although the more selfish part of your brain begs to hold his face between your hands one last time, and because he is the most selfless man you know he would simply let you and bask in the warmth of your hands but it would break him. And that would be okay, because you are selfish.

The bliss of oblivion shatters, as the black bag is harshly pulled off of your head. The blinding light of the sun burns your eyes, and it takes a moment to adjust to the new surroundings. But it doesn’t take you long to lock eyes with the one man you care for so deeply, though he is not smiling and his eyes are a sea of unspoken words. It’s clear to you now more than ever that you are the worst thing that could have ever happened to him, because the gun pressed against your head will eventually fire. And you’ll die, your name will become a name that Frank never wants to speak or hear. And your memory will become another one of his reason for killing, and you hate yourself for doing that to him.

But you are selfish, and cruel. So you run, your feet going faster than they ever have before and you’re almost there. Frank is right in front of you, a single foot away but a gunshot rings throughout the desolate air. The fire. For a second you don’t feel it so you move towards his open arms, a smile on your bloody face. It doesn’t take long for you both to be on the concrete, his mind working over the damage trying to find some sort of solution to this shitty problem. One hand presses harshly on the bullet wound, and the other holds you close to his body.

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart you keep your goddamn eyes open, yeah?” The waver in his voice gives him away, he’s terrified.

The adrenaline is the only thing keeping you from slipping away, and the minute it wears off is the minute you are gone. Frank knows it, and you know it. You smile, and lift your hands up to hold his face. Blood smearing across his stubbled cheeks, and you want to tell him how much you love him. but you are selfish and dying.

“I don’t want to die Frank, I really don’t want to die” at this point you’re frantic, and holding on to the last little bit of life you have left.

“I know baby, so that means you gotta keep those beautiful eyes open, you hear me? You keep them open, and you keep fighting Y/N” he’s frantic because he knows what happens after this. And the mended messy cracks in his heart start to break like glass.

You lay in his arms, as the blood selfishly sticks to your skin and his. He leans down, his breath warming your cold body as he rests his head against yours. He doesn’t leave, he stays in that position until your eyes can no longer see and the blood dries. The selfish and the selfless lay entangled in a mess of tragedy, one is now a memory and the other a monster.

scars full of lies.

pairings. frank castle x fem!reader

about. frank is hoping to keep his vigilante life a secret, but it’s hard when reader asks questions that brings that wish to risk

warnings. lying? nothing really

ricky rocks. ma man 🤗

scars on the back of his neck.

that's it. that’s what you thought about a lot. especially when night rounded around the corner and you were having a hard time finding sleep. so, instead of counting sheep, you counted his scars by memory.

you wondered how they surfaced on his body and who made the execution to create such deep cuts on his body in hopes to hurt him. frank was a scary man. you understood that. but who was scared enough to hurt him?

or not scared at all?

you thought about frank a lot more than you’d like to admit. you knew he’d tease you and you already had a hard enough time dealing with that—it would be a field day for him if he knew what went on in your head.

“you alright?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you smiled softly to the concern that erupted through franks voice as he looked up from the book he read. you adjusted your place next to him, sinking deeper into the couch and deeper into his side, cuing him to go ahead continue reading with the nod of your head.

but he didn’t look back down to his book like you had hoped, “what’s going through your mind right now, sweetheart?”

you smiled at the name and your cheeks began to grow warm when his hand reached and clasped the back of your neck softly, as if to pull you in closer.

fuck.

he always got you, if not with his words, then his affectionate actions.

“i don’t know, i just think, frank,” you mumbled, not wanting to finish your thought.

his brows narrowed, struck slightly confused, “yeah, well i hope so.”

“no, i mean, i think about you, frank, a lot,” you were hesitant with your words, not sure if you should speak them aloud, because the thing was, you felt it shouldn’t be that way.

you met frank on the subway station after he saved you from tripping onto the tracks before never really seeing him again until a month later at a coffeehouse—accidentally spilling coffee on him before recognition kicked in and the two of you sat down together.

it felt like talking to your father—scolding you for being so clumsy with both encounters you two had and telling you, you should really study your surroundings more. and then the cell phone thing—

“can i get you number, you know, just to thank you some other time, more properly.”

he had froze from putting his coat on, a hesitant look immediately overcoming his face causing you to cringe, wondering what had gone wrong despite everything going so smoothly for you two being strangers.

“oh, i mean you don’t have to, i just—“

“no, i just don’t really have a phone, at the moment,” he finally had his brown coat slung over himself, giving you a sympathetic smile. “i recently moved into the area, lost my cell in the process and really haven’t found time to replace it.”

what a lie, was what you thought.

“i’m not really a good with a phone in the first place,” he shrugged before pulling out a pen he had in his pocket, sitting back down. “this is my p.o. box, write me a letter sometime.”

he winked, before getting up and walking away.

but it seemed since day one, frank was never one to track, someone who didn’t want to be held down.

he didn’t get a phone until five months after you sent your first letter, but he still couldn’t keep track of the thing for the life of him.

“you want to tell me what it is you think about?” his finger tips teased the side of your face before tucking some strands of your hair behind your ear.

“i feel like… i barely know you,” you pause, feeling uneasy about your words, “i mean, i worry because i don’t know who you were before we met.”

“same person as i am now,” he smiles.

“yes, but,” you sigh, taking a step back in your head, attempting to recuperate. he studied your face with a sudden hard frown, studying the emotions that were crossing your face. you suddenly set your hand on the back of his neck, your finger tips finding one of the many scars easily and tracing it back and forth. “this. i want to know about this.”

his lips twitched upward, “my scars?”

he seemed confused as to what was so fascinating about them, making you feel dumb by the way you couldn’t help but nod eagerly.

“okay…” his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he thought while his eyes strayed from yours. “i had a bit of rough childhood, i’d come home almost everyday to my mom screaming at me, for no reason.”

he shook his head, a look of distress coming across his face as he spoke, almost reliving that moment, “one day, i had came home a little bit later than usual for whatever reason—maybe i saw a dog, i don’t know—but it just wasn’t her day,” he tsked, his head slightly shaking, “threw a glass vase my way, shattered and sliced my neck all up. one of many, many marks,” he slid his sleeve up, brining light to the small scars that tore up his arms. “she had a short temper.”

a lie. frank was full of lies, but it was better if you didn’t know the truth. and it was good that you ate it up, because he couldn’t imagine how you’d react to the real reason half his body was full of scars and hidden wounds.

“frank, i’m so sorry,” your arms wrapped around his neck as you had practically thrown yourself to his body, a feeling of remorse overcoming you as you held him as close as you could. “you didn’t deserve that.”

even if it was true, he probably did. he deserved every little mark of pain on his body, even more so for lying to you about it.

navigation

soup

a/n: this whole fic is 100% @chvoswxtch fault because one day when I was about to make dinner she planted this idea in my mind, after too long of winding each other up with thoughts about him, when I attempted to say goodbye so that I could cool down enough in order to not cut my fingers off or burn the food because I was too busy drooling, this menace just went, and I quote: "try not to think about him fucking you from behind while you cook." needless to say, I was a mess that night.... I was already a mess before, but then I just 401 error and I haven't recovered yet

warnings: frank castle x reader, smut, established relationship, cooking soup (good soup), kissing, clothed sex, kitchen sex, couch sex, dirty talk, size kink, oral, fingering, light anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, impact play, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, cumplay, overstimulation, just them being cute and nasty and domestic together

word count: 3577

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

The soft sound of Nat King Cole crooning was barely audible from the speakers in the living room, mixing and mingling with the soothing rhythm of raindrops pattering against the window in front of you, yet your hips still gently swayed to the tune as you grabbed the stripped oven mitt still laying on the counter beside the stove from the last time you’d checked on the broth bubbling away in the large pot. 

Lifting up the heavy lid, the heat from the metal slowly began to seep through to your touch as you checked on the progress, briefly watching the ivory beans dance around in the simmering liquid, wispy aromatics bubbling alongside them, before you covered it up once more. 

Standing beside the sink, you transferred the lightly dripping head of dark green cabbage onto the cutting board. After temporarily getting distracted by a thunderous roar that was heard from somewhere outside far in the distance, you then sliced the knife in your hand straight down the middle of the cruciferae, the crunchy vegetal sound reverberating off the kitchen walls. 

Hearing the floorboards suddenly creak, you whipped your head around to find Frank leisurely leaning against the doorframe, eyes glued to your form as an adoring smile warmed his stern features. 

“Frank!” you exclaimed, chuckling lightly at the fright he had managed to stir in you, “when did you get home?”

“About three songs ago,” he stated, the gentle music still buzzing from the room behind him. 

“And you’ve just been standing there this whole time?” you bit down on the smile that fact conjured. 

“Yep,” he drawled, readjusting his crossed arms. It didn’t take long after you’d turned back to the task at hand that you felt his warm touch wrap around your waist and felt his deep voice tickle your ear, “what are you making?” he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“Soup,” you shared, cutting rhythmically through the hardy greens. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, craning to plant a tender peck upon your clavicle, his beard gently scratching your skin, “that sounds great…” his tender hands nearly burned through the material of your dress, causing your moments to slow down ever so slightly, “so, what do you have to do now?”

“Well, the base and the bean are already cosy in the pot, doing its thing,” your breath briefly hitched, interrupting your determined explanation, as his wandering touch triggered goosebumps to erupt across your skin, your form instinctively curving into him as his fingers lightly caressed your midsection, your still swaying hips and just shy down your thighs, “but I thought I’d get a head start with this before it’s time for them to go in so that I don’t go and get distracted by something else and then end up having to rush cutting it up.”

His slow breath clear in your ear, he sneakily brought your hips back flush against his, your soft bottom a stark contrast to the excited tightness in his dark jeans. Feathery kisses roamed your neck as your chopping gradually came to a stop, your eyelid growing heavy as you felt your pulse spike, especially making its presence known between your legs. 

Inhaling deeply, his hands slid up to capture your covered boobs in a teasing grasp, “Frank…” you warned softly, though your ass lazily melted back against his hardness.

“Yeah?” nose gracing the shell of your ear, his touch boldly drifted down your dress, effortlessly finding your centre through the fabric, your pulse thumping against his graze. 

“I am holding a knife,” you pointed out, trying to compose yourself, even though the way that he caressed you over your clothes successfully swayed your brain to fit something else into your evening’s schedule. 

Nipping gently at your flushed cheek, you heard the smirk on his lips as he acknowledged, “so?” burying his fingers in the fabric billowing around your legs and slowly hiking it up, “you really think that fact scares me?”

Bunching the skirt up around your waist, clenching it tight in one of his iron fists, the other one dipped down below it and only briefly tickled you over your panties before hooking a finger in them and pulling them to the side. Fluttering through your glistening folds for but a moment, as soon as your hips bucked in search of more, he took it away. 

Turning your cheek to complain, his lips grazed your skin as his grasp enveloped yours still clutched around the kitchen knife and set it down for you. Fluttering eyes locking on his form, you watched as he sank down, kneeling behind you on the cool tile. Holding your gaze for a moment as he hungrily nipped at your arched backside, he then determinedly dove in, burying his face in between your thighs. 

“Holy shit,” you gasped, gripping onto the edge of the countertop as his tongue lapped up your essence, “Frank!” desperately latching on like your pussy was his oxygen and he had just come up from a dive in the deepest of oceans. His muffled moan vibrated against your folds, making your legs quiver, “you’re-, you’re-…” sturdy nose bumping deliciously against you as he fluttered up to bury his tongue in your heat, “holy fuck!”

Growling ecstatically as he momentarily pulled back, each of his broad palms glued to your soft cheeks, fondling the flesh below your hips as he admired how your core dripped for him. After landing a swift tap across your ass, he began to slobber at your little rosebud, determinedly moving with you as the dizzying sensation made you rise up onto your tiptoes. Framing your bottom with his burly arms, he then shifted one of them, lowering it till found your cunt, promptly plugging up your clenching pussy as his mouth devoured your other hole. 

Briefly retracting once again, you felt a dollop of his spit harshly impact your core, withdrawing his finger and spreading it around your glossy petals before shoving two of his digits right back inside, leaning back as he pumped them in and out, admiring your mess as his free hand lowered to palm his tightness through his pants. Curling them softly, he found that spot that drove you wild. One of your rowdy legs nearly kicked his ribs as he began to harshly rock his fingers within you, his hand nearly vibrating as your pussy squelched at the pressure. Though just as you felt yourself near the edge, his touch faltered. 

That tease, he had to have known how close you were. Arms flailing to get him back, your whines were swiftly knocked out of you and traded in for a breathless moan as he suddenly straightened up behind you and filled you up in one fell swoop. 

Clenching around his girth as he gave you a second to accommodate around him, you caught sight of his reflection in the raindrop-adorned window before you, his brow furrowed as he stared down at where you had taken him so beautifully. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you saw his eyes roll in his skull at the pleasure of your warmth. Wrapping his strong arms around your form, one of them came up to seize your jaw, hungrily turning your head so that he could capture your lips in a heated kiss. 

Grinding back on him as you were still so close, your collective moans mingled as your head tilted back, breaking off the needy kiss. With webs of saliva still connecting your mouths, you hazily blinked back into his eyes as he let go of your chin, grasping your hip and aiding you back against him, egging your desperate bucks on. 

“I missed you today,” he shared his breath as you chased your high, “real bad,” his nose gently bumped against yours with every needy roll, “and then I came home and saw you just-…” he let out a low groan, grasp tightening around your moving hips, “you’re like a fucking angel…” 

With frantic moans gushing out of you, your legs trembled as you creamed all over his throbbing cock. Arm feverishly twisting, you snatched up the edge of his dark t-shirt like a lifeline and whimpered, “I love you,” completely enamoured by his dark coffee eyes staring back at you, “I love you so much,” he crashed his lips against your own once more, silencing your entranced cry. 

Slowly pressing your hips further back against his, burying himself that much deeper within your still trembling core, your grip on him tightened as he moved you, sliding you silkily upon his cock and gently fucking the sensitivity away.

“I love you too,” his deep timbre washed over you, like magic the sound aiding your trembling pussy to quickly bounce back, “so much,” he disappeared in your eyes, “god, you’re sexy…” before your head sluggishly lulled back and reunited your vision with the drizzly window.

Your entire body rocked against the counter as he bucked up into you, “Frank,” you uttered breathlessly as he stretched you out at a rhythm that was both so slow yet so hard at the same time, “oh my god, you feel so-, so-…” you crumbled down against the table, your head right beside the cutting board, “fuck!” 

“I feel so what, huh?” he teased your blissed-out babble, “so hard? So big? So good?” his thrusts began to grow more selfish, the lewd clapping of hastily exposed slivers of skin echoing and overpowering all the other soothing noises that vibrated throughout the apartment, “you like how this cock fills you up to the fucking brim, do you?”

“Y-yes!” you struggled to get out, feeling his warm, broad palm spread over your spine as a tender anchor while he fucked your brains out. 

“Yeah, you love this cock, don’t you?” his hips slammed into yours, “tell me,” he dared you with a sharp smack across your bottom, “tell me you love it.”

“I love it,” you blubbered, your face buried in the crook of your folded arms on the counter. 

“You love what, sweetheart?” you didn’t have to peek back at him to know how hard he was smirking. 

“I love your cock,” your toes curled as his broad thumb suddenly began to rub over your other hole, “I love it,” still slick from his kisses, he swiped over it, “I love you-, I love-,” tickling you gently before slowly sinking it in, plugging the opening up just to the first knuckle.

Like the rain pouring down outside, so did you as you came, your pussy gushing all over his girth. Swiftly yanking his dick out, he harshly rubbed it through your folds, “there you go,” flicking across your clit and urging more of your juices to squirt out, “there you fucking go,” showering down onto the cool tile floor.

Panting, he spun your jelly-like figure around and kissed your lips fiercely. Scrambling, he fervently plucked you up into his arms, wrapping your shaky legs around his hips as your tongue danced across his own. In a haze, you clung to him like a koala, fuzzily curling your arms around his neck, eternally thankful for his might as he held you secure against his boulder-like body. 

Eyes shut, soft hums escaped your lips and vibrated against his own as you felt his legs begin to move, swiftly exiting out of the kitchen. Fat length still like a rock nudged against you’re your trembling centre, you gently began to rock against it, a decision that caused Frank to suddenly change the destination to where he was carrying you. 

A sharp yelp erupted from your lunges as your back suddenly collided with the leather couch cushions. The shocked squeak swiftly melted into a warm giggle, one he fleetingly echoed as he dipped down to join you, knees resting below your dropped form, your legs folded up at your sides from both the fall, but also the delicious exhaustion that had kicked in. 

Reaching down between your bodies, your form jaggedly jumped as you briefly circled your sore pearl before seizing Frank’s third leg, his clothes still clung to his figure, as did yours, only zippered were undone and fabric desperately pushed aside to free what needed to be freed. Fingers barely meeting as they wrapped around him, you gave him a few generous tugs before guiding the tip back down to your entrance. Mouth agape, you nudged him against your sobbing hole, his brows furrowed in pleasure as he stared down at you intently. 

“There she is,” he smirked down at you, “there’s my fucking dirty girl,” noting the dreamy glint in your eye, “you want some more, huh?”

“Please,” you whined as he kept his hips locked, making your job impossible, “I do, I really, really do,” he then wafted away your grasp and held at the base of his heavy length, “I need it!” you squirmed beneath him as he tapped the weight against your overly sensitive core, your sodden panties still clinging on the sidelines.

“Yeah?” you expected him to tease you, to twist your arm until you said uncle, but no, that wasn’t what he did at all. “This what you need?” he mercilessly slammed back into you, a strangled moan rolling off your tongue to answer his taunting question, “then fucking take it like the good little slut I know you are.”

You were nearly crushed as he fucked you into the couch, though you didn’t care one bit about the odd position when he made you literally melt the way he did. 

Folded in half, face smooched into the cushions, your collective moans echoed throughout the apartment. Hands engulfing your waist, you felt like a ragdoll as he fucked you, balls slapping against you with every primal thrust. Tits nearly spilling out of the delicate neckline of your crumbled dress, Frank fleetingly caught the jiggle, palming it roughly before focusing in on the pebbly nipple poking through the fabric, pinching it harshly and causing your eyes to grow glassy. 

A low growl seeped out of him as he watched you squirm so deliciously. Swatting the soft skin lightly before refastening his hold around your form, he readjusted you and yanked your hips further up off the couch, curving your spine and hauling your hips against him like you were just a little fucktoy, a cocksleave for him to get off with. 

“Where are you going, huh?” you heard him chuckle as you practically dug your face into the sofa, your entire form just uncontrollably curling up from the overwhelming ecstasy, “don’t hide that beautiful face from me,” he uttered adoringly while pounding your puffy pussy into next week, “look me in the eye when I’m fucking ruining you,” and painstakingly, you forced your blissed out features to turn in his direction, your cheek smooshing against the cushions as you hazily blinked up at him, “that’s it,” he towered above you, a smirk blossoming on his lip, “look at you,” he couldn’t help but pick up his speed, slamming into you so hard that you saw the stars themselves, “that’s my good girl.”

His grip dug into you so hard that it left no doubt in your mind about the colourful marks you’d have as a souvenir for the following days. 

“You want me to cum inside you, huh?” he smiled at the way it made you whine, “send you back into the kitchen with it still running down your wobbly legs?” and even though you were positive you wouldn’t be able to stand after this, the vulgar image was still enough to push you over the edge once more, needily nodding for him to join you as you tumbled over. 

Gushing around his fat cock, rumbling groans escaped him as he pumped your trembling and tender cunt full of his hot cum, your own intense waterfall still trickling when he eventually pulled his spent length out. 

Flopping down on the couch beside your own exhausted figure, his head rotated, flashing you his hazy smile. Humming in contentment, your eyes too heavy to stay open too long, your fingers lazily grabbed for him to scoot closer.

Cupping your cheeks softly in his broad hands, one of them stayed as the other brushed down the length of your arm, caressing the goosebumps upon your tingly flesh. Nuzzling his nose against your own, he then pressed a soft kiss to your lips, thumb swiping across your cheekbone as your serene hum washed over him. 

The fingers on your arm slowly wandered over your skin, boldly making their way down your form once more. 

“F-fuck!” your eyes swiftly fluttered open, body jolting, your palm smacked his sturdy chest as his touch swept through the sore and sloppy disarray between your weary thighs.  

“Christ,” he craned his neck to admire your downright swollen cunt, “look at that pretty mess, baby,” he caught some of his own creamy essence slowly leaking out of you and rubbed it into your petals as you squirmed at the overstimulation. 

Dipping his lips down to latch onto the side of your neck, you panted, “Frank, please, it’s-” 

But he interrupted before you could finish the hazy sentence, “what?” purring in between the sloppy hickeys his mouth left in its wake, “is it too much for you? Too good, huh?” you simply let out a whine of confirmation as you felt your body begin to side with him, “you can take it, I know you can,” pornographic soppy sounds found your ears as his long fingers slid inside your sore core, “just listen to that, fuck…” your sensitive walls clung around him like a velvet vice as he stubbornly caressed you.

If someone at that moment asked you what day of the week it was, then your best attempt at an answer would probably be blue, as you didn’t even know what was up and what was down at this point. 

“You think you can squirt for me again, huh?” he kissed your cheek as the tell-tell soppy sound began to echo at his hithering motion, “give me some more sugar?” you suddenly felt his warmth disappear from your side, blinking your sluggish eyes open to see him slide down on the floorboards before you, his coiled fingers all the while rocking daringly within you as he granted himself a front row seat, “a little more dessert before dinner?” 

Pushing your tired legs further apart, the warm smile that bloomed upon his lips tickled your glistening centre, “look at that…” he watched as he fucked the rest of his cum out of you, “fucking beautiful…” 

Glancing up in your direction, he narrowly caught your eye and the intense look that he gave you made it impossible for you to simply let your own close once more. Piercing gaze glued on you, he too noticed your crumbled-up form begin to tremble even further just as he dipped down to kiss that swollen clit of yours.

“Atta girl,” he gently pressed his grin against your puffy pearl. 

Fingers rocketing, he only managed to flick his tongue against you a moment before the floodgates flung open one last time. 

First gripping onto your bucking hips with only one hand, he then departed the one buried deep within you to aid in the cause, holding you steady against his mouth as his tongue successfully slipped in to substitute for his digits. 

Sharp sobs melting into whiny pants, you watched as he finally released the latching hold he had withheld, eyes growing wide as he revealed to you the substance he had caught. 

“Holy shit,” you heard your guttural moan fill the room as he alluringly let your squirt trickle from his lips and back down upon your messy core, “that’s so much!”

“Yeah, it fucking is,” he beamed, pride dripping from his husky tone.

Beard damp and eyes the shape of hearts, you just barely through your overwhelming haze managed to see as he lowered his glossy hand down to enclose around himself. 

“Are you-,” you giggled, incapable of finishing your query. 

Cock, once again, hard and throbbing in his fist, he chuckled, “how could I not be?”  kissing your tender inner thigh as you continued to laugh.

“You are not going anywhere near there again,” you lightheartedly warned as your palm shot down to shield yourself. 

“Hm,” he raised himself up from his knees, “I can work with that,” blissed-out smile still plastered upon his gruff features, “what do you want, huh?” his strong legs then caused the couch to dip on either side of your form, “you want me to give you a show?” gazing at you longingly as he now hovered above you, “you sure gave me one.”

“Maybe you can repay the favour…” your nails dug into his meaty thighs, urging him to crawl up so far that his knees were fastened on either side of your shoulder, his girth blocking your eye line to his gorgeous face. 

“Yeah?” he slowly jerked himself mere millimetres from your features, “you want me to make your face as messy as your pussy? Give you a mouthful of cum?” his other hand dipping down to lovingly comb your matted hair as his offer triggered a warm giggle to flow from your chest obscured beneath his perched hips. 

“I love you,” your starry eyes gazing up at him crinkled from your bliss as you snuck your tongue out and swiped it across the prominent vein running along the underside of him. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

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.