Summary: An insight into your domestic life with Frank Castle after he begins his new life
w/c 770
Frank Castle x reader
After all the shit that went down in Hell’s kitchen, Frank was determined to reinvent himself. He didn’t want to be known as the punisher anymore, he was bored of fighting, he’d done it all of his life and he just wanted to take a break. That was how he found you, a pretty waitress that worked in a diner on his way out of town.
Although there was something special about you. He couldn’t just observe you and be happy to leave, he needed more. So he became a regular, always making sure to tip you well so you wouldn’t forget him. Then over time you became familiar with each other, making conversation, him giving you compliments, getting to know each other.
He didn’t hide his identity or lie about who he was, even though Frank Castle was supposed to be dead, but thankfully you didn’t seem to know about his altar ego and his name certainly didn’t ring a bell. That was something he really liked about you. You were starting on a clean slate, without any previous bias.
Your relationship probably moved quicker than some, but you liked Frank. He was all you had and you were all he had, so it was a sort of an easy decision. Within four months of you knowing each other you were already official, and it barely took any longer after that for you both to get together the little money you had to find somewhere to live together.
The apartment you and Frank shared was only small, but it did the job perfectly fine. You had everything you needed, all the basics and then each other. It really wasn’t anything special or extraordinary, but it meant something to you. It especially meant something to you to wake up to the beautiful man every morning.
You would have never suspected Frank to be the domestic kind of man when you first saw him, but he was truly surprising you. He might have even enjoyed it more than you did.
The key in the front door alerted you that he was home, your gaze on him over your shoulder as he entered. You could nearly see all the weight on his shoulders as he trudged over to you, spinning you around so you were facing him rather than whatever you were cooking.
“Hey, how was work?” you asked, sliding your hands against his chest. He didn’t even consider answering before he was pushing his lips on yours, hands holding your hips. You made an oomf noise, taken off-guard by the sudden kiss. But you accepted it, melting into his body happily.
He trailed his lips from yours to your jaw, down your neck while your fingers brushed through his long hair. You were careful when tugging the knots free, knowing he just wanted some gentle love right now. “That bad, huh?” you chuckled. He hummed, nudging his nose against your cheek with one last kiss before he left the warmth of your body. He let you know he was going to shower, leaving you to finish making dinner in the tiny kitchen. But he didn’t leave without telling you how good it smelled already.
He wasn’t gone for long, usually when he got back from the building sight he wanted to spend time with you, he got very clingy after being so isolated all day. He couldn’t bear to talk to those men, he hated them all. You didn’t mind how he basically became a large koala, it was nice receiving all the affection, knowing he wanted to touch you, to hold you.
Only when he snaked his arms around your waist did you catch sight of the redness on his knuckles, frowning as you lifted his hands closer to your face for you to see. “Baby, your knuckles. They’re bleeding,” you observed, gently running your fingers over where you could already see bruises forming on the split skin.
He noticed the frown on your face, lowering his head to catch your gaze so he could reassure you he was alright. “‘M okay,” he mumbled, trying to pull them out of your grasp. You didn’t let him though, narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t ask.” There was a small grin on your face as your words registered in his head, a chuckle falling past his lips.
“Clean ‘em up, I’ll finish dinner.” You dropped his hands, patting his cheek as you ushered him away before the food started to burn. He stole one more kiss though, flashing you a wink as he shifted over to the sink nearby. “Yes, ma’am.”
summary: Frank comes back. and you missed him. You just try not to let him know that. warnings: blood, injuries, angst a/n: cannot get enough of frank castle…….. pls give me a break <3
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 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 your cheek sweetly.
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 helddown.
he didn’t get a phone until five months after you sent your first letter, but he still couldn’t keep track of 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.
Consider: WW2 Sergeant (i think) James “Bucky” Barnes and US Marines Soldier Francis “Frank” Castle (he changed it from Castiglione) shooting back to back in Wakanda during the Infinity War fight.
Imagine; two broken soldiers meeting on the battlefield
Imagine; those same broken soldiers relating their friends (Steve, Sam {kinda}, Natasha, Sharon etc) vs (Matt Murdock {kinda} and Karen)
IMAGINE JUST HOW MUCH THEY COULD HELP EACH OTHER HEAL
plus i feel they’d both be protective af
(I haven’t gotten to watching The Punisher yet but I’m pretty sure he’s got a friend called David or smthn)
BTW I got this idea whilst imagining a scenario where Peter (Spider-man) is working with Luke Cage, Franks Castle and other people who use guns, immediately Frank came to mind and now look at this
Imagine hanging out with Billy and Frank and them being amused when you put men who won’t leave you alone in their place.
(Inspired by https://youtu.be/jkNnceNJXz0 Also why did this flow so well? I guess all I can say is my brothers trained me well.)
“I suggest you get your fucking hand off of me.” You told the guy whos hand was groping your ass.
“Or what. You gonna sick your boys on me?” The man mocked. “I just want a little fun.”
“Oh sweetie they doesn’t need us to fight their battles. We’re here to make sure they don’t kill you.” Billy laughed as he took a sip of his drink.
“Exactly and all your behavior is showing me is that you apparently aren’t capable of holding an intelligent conversation or actually being able to woo someone so you have to resort to macho male bullshit and hope for the best. Sad for you I know that game. In fact my guys here are some of the most macho men there are and even they know better to try this. So I suggest you walk away and enjoy your night with your hand before you loose it.” You replied before shoving the guy away. “You ain’t shit and unless you grow the fuck up and show some respect you never will be.”
cw/tw: mentions of erection, explicit (18+), female reader
summary: some turn ons for some marvel men
ft. Steven Grant, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Bucky Barnes, (request more if you would like other characters)
Steven Grant:
Wearing your hair up.
There’s something about the way your nape and collarbones are completely exposed that ignites a burn of desire deep in his stomach.
The need to press his lips and run his tongue along the bare skin chews away at his sanity. The moment you walk out of the bathroom, a cute sun dress and hair up into a French bun, clipped back with the pastel butterfly clip he got for you last week, he’s stunned.
“Babe!” You squeal the moment you feel his lips against your neck, sucking gently on the skin as his hands anchor at your hips. “You’re going to leave a mark.”
“You’re so lovely.” Steven presses a few kisses against the harsh, throbbing mark, “My pretty girl. I can’t help it.”
And as he presses his hips against your own to feel just how pretty he really thinks you are, you soon realize you’re going to miss your reservations.
Matt Murdock
After the shower
Honestly, he really doesn’t know what it is about it. With his heightened senses he could practically hear the water droplets grazing across your skin, gathering in the crevices of your collar bones and dripping to the floor.
Not to mention the smell, behind the lavender and flowers is the natural scent of you. It could be the comfort it brings or the familiarity but he’s hard before you can even step out of the shower. He waits at the edge of the bed, facing the door as it opens.
“Hi babe,” he’s still dressed in his suit, tie pulled from his collar before answering, “Hi baby.”
But before you can move another muscle, his hand finds your towel and pulls it from your body before pulling you into the bed.
Frank Castle
Wearing his clothes
Seeing you in his clothes does something to Frank. Maybe it’s because is scent is all over them or the fact that you without a doubt are completely his.
No matter the case, he always leaves a shirt or pair of pajama pants out with the hope you’ll see it and decide to throw them on.
Frank had been away for a mission for a few days. It’s normal for him to cut communication for the sake of not only the mission but the safety as you. Typically he calls you before coming home but didn’t bother.
Imagine his surprise when he walks into your shared home when you’re stirring a pot of noodles in nothing but his shirt. He leans against the door frame, admiring as the hem of the shirt rises and rises as you bend down to open the oven and peak inside.
His throat dries instantly at the realization that you’re not wearing panties. Just like that you’re wrapped in strong arms, kisses pressing against your nape as you feel the line of his erection against your lower back.
Bucky Barnes
Your lips
Bucky loves your lips. The softness and feeling he gets every time he touches them or kisses them he is filled with more love than he ever thought was possible.
But now, watching as you smile and giggle at the ladies that surround you, he wants nothing more than to take you home and smear the plum colored lipstick you just bought.
He leans against the bar, ignoring the bartender who asks if he wants a drink. All he can do is stare at you. While it did take some convincing to get him to this party, the moment he saw you and that damn lipstick he suddenly didn’t want to do anymore.
He lets out a troubled breath as you make eye contact with him from across the room, sucking in your bottom lip and winking - you were doing this on purpose.
summary: Moments in which he calls you his sweet girl.
Ft. Steven Grant, Matt Murdock, Frank Castle
and currently taking requests for preference topics such as this one, please include characters you would like :)
Steven Grant (mentions of Marc)
Steve can’t help the way his heart pounds inside his chest. Along with the warmness that fills his cheek, makes his hand clamy.
So beautiful and unbelievably soft. Watching the way your chest falls into a shallow pattern of breathing. Mouth slightly ajar as you cuddle the pillow closer in your sleep.
After canceling your date due to business involving Marc, the last thing he expected was to find you in his apartment, asleep on his couch.
A slight frown fills his feature rather quickly when noticing your hair done up and more makeup than usually. A darker color lipstick slightly snugging at the corner of your lips.
With a guilty heart he sighs, all of this just for him to cancel? He licks his thumb before reaching forward to wipe the corner of your lips. The weight of his finger makes your eyes flutter, a lazy smile matches yours.
“Hi, you look beautiful.” Guilty eyes moving closer and closer until the warmth of his lips press into your cheek, “I’m sorry I canceled, you put so much effort in.”
“’S okay,” it’s cute the way your word’s slur, “Just wanted to see you.”
Steven smiles for what seems like the nth time this day, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you into his chest. Nuzzling his nose against the smooth strands of hair, mumbling the words, “My sweet girl.”
Matt Murdock
Matt lets out a deep sigh, pulling his tie away from his collar but not before a certain scent catches his nose. He can’t help but tilt his head and breath deeply.
Almost instantly there is a rare smile filling his features. He texted you hours ago, it was nothing more than a 'having a horrible day, thinking of you.’
What he didn’t expect was you cooking his favorite meal of his day to cook. Ever since retiring and swearing the whole daredevil off, he began to find new ways to fill his time such as cooking.
And absolutely is terrible at, despite the lessons and following recipes but you always end up kissing his cheek and thanking him despite the fact it was burnt to bits and not edible.
“Tell me you did not spend all day cooking this for me.” Matt leans against the kitchen counter with a look of annoyance but he was anything but.
“It’s just lasagna, anyways, you said you had a bad day, I wanted to make it better.” Not bothering to look back as you continue to mix the salad but before you could even mutter another word, two large arms wrap around your waist. Matt hunches over but just enough to rest his head against the back of your neck and press a soft kiss there.
“I love you so much - you’re so -,” he pauses for a second before continuing, “My sweet, sweet girl.”
Frank Castle
The moment Frank turned the corner of the busy street and didn’t see you walking in front of him anymore, he of course, assumed the worst.
Heart beating a mile a minute as he surveys the area, looking for one glimpse of that red, winter coat to soothe his panic.
“Did you see a woman in a red coat?” He panics, asking every person who passes him but the majority deny or ignore him.
“Damn it,” he whispers under his breath, how could he even let you out of his sight? He knows how many enemies he has, how many people would crush you in order to get to the ex-punisher.
In a quick 360 around the block, there is a quick swish of red. Between his heavy breaths and the brutal New York winter he can barely make it out but catches sight of you rather quickly. Down a sketchy alley that smells of trash, footprint in the snow lead him to you.
Crouch to the side of the dumpster, talking softly but Frank doesn’t even give himself a second to think before grasping your shoulder. “Why did you run away like that?” He’s angry, voice raising with every word. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Frank, I’m sorry, I’m okay.” Heart filling with guilt as you find the bewildered expression across his face, he was scared. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was thinking straight, I saw this dog and it’s snowing and so cold and - puppies.”
He takes the time to finally realize what you’re petting; a blue nosed pit with a wagging tail, the mama dog having four little puppies suckling from her stomach. He watches as you frown, “I’m worried, the storm is only going to get worse.”
Frank can’t help but crack a smile at his pretty girl, “I’m sorry for yelling,” He reaches forward to press his fingers against your cheek, “My sweet girl, you have a beautiful heart.”
Frank turns his attention back to the mama dog, petting her head softly, “Hi girl, you’re a good girl huh?” He starts to pick the puppies up, handing them over to you one at a time before affectionately tapping the dogs behind, “C'mon mama, my girl is too sweet to leave you out here - thata girl.” He looks up at you with soft eyes, “Let’s go home, we have some babies to warm.”
-summary; Frank ruins you for anyone else. -warnings; 18+ mdni, smut, knife/blood play ish, canon typical violence, blood, graphic description. -a/n; i am a whore <3
“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”
The words tumble from his swollen lips. You clutch your bleeding side and laugh. Your chest tightens and it’s hard to breath, but you laugh. Your nose is definitely broken, your teeth are stained a blood orange. You can feel cracked ribs and pulled muscles. The life is draining out of stab wounds and bullet holes. But you laugh.
Frank looks just as bad as you. His face is painted black and blue. His knuckles are bloodied and broken. One of his teeth is lying on the floor by his feet. Blood gushes from both nostrils and his vest had been decorated with several fresh bullet holes. You had even managed to weasel your blade into his side to leave a nasty wound.
Your apartment’s a mess. Broken glass littered the floor. Your coffee table was lying in pieces. Frank wants to kill you. You both stood, covered in blood, heaving and panting, in your kitchen.
“Do it,” you grin.
He advances. You make no move to run. It almost surprises Frank. He almost wants you to run. He enjoys the chase. he’ll miss this little game once you’re dead. But as his hand wraps around your throat, he finds himself unable to kill you just yet. So he squeezes, just enough to excite you.
“I’m gonna kill you,” he promises.
“Do it.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I ain’t done with you, yet.”
Frank’s free hand disappears. You watch, half frightened, half intrigued. You don’t see the knife that he pulls. You feel it, instead. You feel it hook under the hem of your shirt. You feel the cool air on your skin as the shirt rips. It’s a clean cut.
You hiss through your teeth. Frank presses the tip of the blade into the skin above your sternum. He grins at his artistry. You feel him drag the blade down. Blood trickles out of the wound, not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to scar. You’ll have it forever. The cuts are clean, it’ll be no gaudy scar, it’ll be dainty, but visible. You feel two more swipes of the blade slicing skin, two across, one below the other. Frank leans back to admire his handiwork. From afar, with a sick grin, he adds another cut, right next to the previous one. You don’t know what he’s painted, but you have your suspicions.
You whine, pushing against Frank. He takes some pity on you and leans in for a kiss. It’s almost sweet, until he bites your lip and the taste of fresh blood floods your mouth. You moan into the kiss. Frank drops his hands to your thighs. He taps them and you jump. He blindly carries you through your apartment. he knocks against the kitchen island and the wall, and several doorframes. You wince and groan against his lips.
“Stop fuckin’ whining,” he chastises.
“Fuck you,” you grin.
He knocks you against the doorframe again, a little harder than before. He stumbles into your bedroom and drops you carelessly on the bed. You sit up. Frank undoes his belt and while he’s unbuckling his jeans, you look around him to the mirror on the wall.
Your eyes go wide. In your sternum, just below the underwire of your bra, are the initials: FC
Frank placed a bouquet of her favourite flowers on her grave, kissed the tips of his fingers and touched her headstone. Although he now had a lovely lady waiting back at home for him and a new family of his own, he’d never forget the three that were no longer there with him.
"Dada..dada..” Rowan babbled away in his father’s arms, pinching Frank’s cheeks with his chubby hands.
“Alright buddy, let’s go."
Leaving the cemetery behind, Frank headed for his truck to strap Rowan into his seat and got in before pulling away from the curb. He left Y/N in bed this morning to get her some flowers and a few other things to surprise her with during the course of the day. Frank wanted her to sleep in today without any disturbances hence he brought Rowan along with him.
The drive home wasn’t a long one, Frank pulled up to the curb and killed the engine before getting out to get to his son as well as the stuff he bought. Rowan had spent the entire drive back babbling and squealing in delight while he played with his toy that played music with each button he pressed. Frank swore he was going to shove that toy down Foggy’s throat whenever he saw him again.
Once the front door was shut behind them, he placed the toddler on the ground and handed him the bouquet of white lilies.
"Take this to mummy, Row.” Frank whispered to the child who eagerly walked off to the dining table where Y/N was having her cup of coffee.
“Mum..mum."
"Oh my goodness, thank you baby.” Y/N took the bouquet from his tiny hands and kissed his cheeks before he could run off to play with his toys in the living room. Frank walked over to her and tipped her head back using his thumb and index finger.
“Happy mother’s day sweetheart."
"Thank you.” He leaned down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.
“Get a room you two.” Amy joined the pair at the table causing them to break apart as she wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck from behind, kissing her cheek in the process.
“Happy mother’s day, thank you for being such a great mom to Rowan and I, love you Y/N."
"I love you too Amy."
"I got you a few other things.” Frank placed the bag in front of her and she dug through the contents. He’d gotten her the chocolates she loved as well as some other things she’d been craving for lately.
“I appreciate it. Now, who’s hungry?” Amy took that as her cue to get started on breakfast, brushing off Y/N’s offer to help.
“Just know that this was the savory gift I could’ve given you around those two. Tonight you’re all mine.” Frank lightly nibbled on her ear, teasing her.
Y/N bit down on her bottom lip just thinking about the sex that they were going to have once they went to bed for that night.
rating:18+ (minors DNI).soft!frank but make it spicy.
word count: 736
a/n: had an idea.. starting writing it… blacked out…. bon appétit <3
The feeling of the bed dipping abruptly beside you as he slipped off of you. You selfishly already missed his warmth that had surrounded just seconds prior. Your body felt as if it were humming as you rolled lazily in your side to face him where he laid on his side of the bed. Your eyes drinking in the sight of him—
