#braxton wolff

(this man is so fine I will not shut up about it)

Frank Castle x reader

synopsis: four different time frank greats you like you're the only thing that matters

vibes: fluff, angst, comfort

warnings: suggestive, injuries/blood/suggested violence, (vaguely mentioned) reader is attacked, alcohol, language

words: 1.48k

notes: i love this one and hope you will too!

“Hey doll,” he says cheekily. 

You roll your eyes as Frank Castle slides into the booth across from you. “Hi Frank.”

He rests his elbows on the table and looks at you with a lazy grin. “Did you find the place okay?”

Scoffing, you cross your arms and slouch in your seat. “Frank, I work here.” You motion down at your attire: the required restaurant t-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

He snickers, leaning back and manspreading. You glance down before jerking your eyes back up. The grin on his face just grows; of course he caught you looking. “How was your shift?” he asks, sincerely. 

You groan. “Fine. Lots of rude customers, the usual.”

“Need me to beat anyone up?”

i do not give permission for any of my works or their included components to be copied, translated and or/reposted.

*i don't specify the age gap in my writing, but in my mind, reader is in her mid 20's-30's.

currently writing for:

jon bernthal characters: frank castle, braxton wolff, mikey berzatto

So obviously this man has an oral fixation. The lollipops, the peanut butter spoon, the ice cream scene. How he can’t stop talking, rattling off bantering quips even in serious situations. You know and love it. Braxton likes to keep his mouth busy at all times, and that takes on several different connotations as you get to know him. 

You make a habit of carrying candy on your person whenever you spend time with him. Every time you see him starting to get antsy– shifting around in his chair, fingers drumming on the countertop– you offer him something. 

“Want a Dum Dum?” you ask. 

Holding the lollipop out to him, twirling the stick between your fingers enticingly. He turns to you, a flint of a smile. 

“Thanks.”

He plucks the candy from your hand and unwraps it in a blur, tucking the dome of sugar directly into his cheek. The stick lolls between his parted lips, his throat bobbing and cheeks hollowing as he sucks. You can’t help the flush that rises in your cheeks at the sight of it. It’s impossible to deny that one of the reasons why you keep the lollipops on hand is because he looks damn good with one in his mouth. 

You giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” Braxton asks. 

Turning to you with a dark eyebrow cocked in curious interest, and that tug of a smile is back. Giving you goddamn butterflies without even trying. 

“Wouldn’t eating a Dum Dum be considered cannibalism for you?”

Braxton scoffs out a laugh.

“Oh fuck off, kid.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you intone with a frown. 

You’re not that much younger than him, but he never lets you forget his additional years of experience whenever he’s got the chance. When Chris isn’t around, he likes to cling to his elder status as much as possible. 

“Noted, kid,” he responds.

Braxton never settles anywhere or with anyone for long, but he's quick to get used to you and your offered confections. He'll never state it outright, but he always appreciates the thoughtfulness of the gesture. Can’t tell when you picked up his habit, or that it even was a habit in the first place, but you’re keen. You notice, and it’s like you can read him better than he can read himself, sliding him a sucker whenever he’s nervous.

You’ve practically Pavlov-ed him as a result. Now every time he sees you, his mouth starts watering. Thinking of all the sweet things you can offer him. 

So it’s no surprise when you find out that his mouthy disposition carries over into the bedroom. Braxton learns your body through his mouth. Nibbling your earlobe. Raking his teeth over your jaw. Leaving love bites all over your throat and chest, which you always chastise him for the next morning, but also never ask him to stop doing. He catches you once, examining your reflection in the foggy mirror after a shower, tracing the mottling marks with the tip of your finger as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

You’ll never forget the first time you slide your thumb into Braxton’s mouth in the heat of the moment and the growl that sounds through his chest in reaction. He’s sitting against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you ride him, and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you in response.

“You like that?” you ask. 

He doesn’t need to say a word for you to know he loves it. You look down to find his gaze has gone all doe-like, big dark eyes shining with reverence as he nods. 

So you bear down harder, with your hips and your hand, coaxing your finger farther back against his tongue, pressing into the soft muscle. It doesn’t take long before you’re both cumming, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it almost aches, the gloss of saliva following your thumb as you pull it slowly out of his mouth and bring it down to his chin to wrench him in for a sloppy, sated kiss. 

And when he’s in charge? Prepare for that mouth to ruin you. Braxton’s favorite thing to have in his mouth is your cunt. No contest. He’ll get you pinned on the mattress, burly forearms locked down over your stomach, and suck on your clit until you’re swearing you can’t take it anymore. Back bowing off the bed as another orgasm tears through you, wailing his name towards the ceiling. 

“Brax, please–”

“Sh, sh, sh,” he’ll hush you, resting his cheek against your thigh. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. She’s fucking weeping for me.”

It’s astonishing just how wet you get on nights like these, slick with your arousal and his spit, so wet you can feel it cooling against your thighs, see it shining on his chin, sense it soaking into the sheets below. You twitch as Braxton drags his index fingertip through your slit, collecting the evidence of his words and bringing it to his lips. 

“Taste just as pretty as you look,” he’ll tell you. 

You’d be surprised at how, even when his mouth is busy, Brax still manages to run it to the moon and back. It’s as maddening as it is pure lighter fluid to the smoldering heat between your legs. He starts to lower his face again and you can’t contain the mewl of tortured need which spills from your throat. You hands snatch into his hair for some sense of stability, tugging it between your fingers.

“I can’t take anymore, Brax,” you babble, “can’t…”

Braxton smacks your inner thigh, his touch just firm enough to counter your indignance. 

“Oh you poor baby,” he mocks you, smoothing his palm soothingly over the tender skin. “Are you really gonna complain when I’m being so good to you? I think you should come again, just to prove how grateful you are.” 

“F-f-fuck off,” you stutter, head collapsing back against the pillow in sweaty defeat. 

But with your hands still in his hair, you find yourself tugging him closer. A rumble of approval sounds through Braxton’s chest as he readjusts his grip on you, gathering your cunt close to his mouth. 

Imagine being Francis Silverberg's daughter and dating Christian Wolff.

"Hey, pops." (Y/n) greeted as sat at the table with her father and his close friend Christine Wolff. "Chris." (Y/n) added with a smile causing Chris to smile slightly and nod her head. "Hey, sweetheart." Francis greeted his daughter while Chris looked down at the table slightly. "Any luck with the feds?" (Y/n) asked softly knowing what would happen if her father get out this prison.

"No. Those idiots won't listen to me. And you don't pick me up till a week later okay." Francis told his daughter sternly causing her to sigh. "I was lucky enough they don't know I have family. I plan on letting it stay that way." He added causing (Y/n) to look at Chris for help. "H-his right," Christian said causing (Y/n) to sigh and gently place her hand above Chris's arm but not touching him without his permission.

Chris smiled slightly and gently moved his hand upwards and gently took (Y/n) hand. "When are you two gonna marry and have a wedding?" Francis asked smiling happily at Chris and (Y/n). "Dad. Don't think a wedding is needed for marriage." (Y/n) grins at her father and gently squeezes Chris's hand. "Yes, most marriage end in failure especially with one partner is a prisoner," Chris said causing (Y/n) to look and him and give her full attention.

"True but most of those relationships lacked patience." (Y/n) added causing Chris to nod his head. "Study found that 46% of incarcerated people in Ohio lived with a spouse or partner before entering prison. Nationally, data indicates that 44% of men incarcerated in state prisons were either married or living with a partner at the time of their arrest." Chris added causing Francis to huff.

"The success rate of relationships during incarceration is low, with studies indicating a high likelihood of marriages breaking up." (Y/n) added causing Chris to chuckle. "Great way to set the mood down more." Francis joked causing (Y/n) to laugh. "I learned from the best." (Y/n) joked then frown slightly as the officers come in the visiting room. "Times up." The officer said causing (Y/n) to sigh and nod her head. "May I hug my dad?" (Y/n) asked the officer causing him to sigh but nod his head.

"Take care, Dad. Please keep an eye on his Chris." (Y/n) said softly hugging her dad not knowing it would be the last time. Then gently kissed Chris's cheek. "I'll talk to King for you okay Dad." (Y/n) said softly before following the officer out. "If you get out before me son. Take care of her will you?" Francis told Chris as he helped lead Francis out of the room to their block. "Of course Francis." Chris nodded agreeing with the old man.

Time Skip

"I'm sorry for your loss." Ray King said to (Y/n) as she stared at the burned body of her father. "This is all your fault. If you would have listened! If you would have cared! I would still have my Dad! You killed him!" (Y/n) yelled running to attack Ray King only for him to hold her close and let her hit him. "I know. I know. I know." Ray King mutters taking every hit as (Y/n) sobs and screams.

It only took 10 minutes for (Y/n) to collect herself before looking back at her father. "Don't come to me. Don't talk to me. I want nothing to do with any of you people anymore." (Y/n) rasped out as she felt herself starting to shock in rage. "Get out. I-I need to be alone." (Y/n) said softly causing King and the ME to leave the morgue. "I'm sorry Dad. I'm so sorry." (Y/n) cried gently taking her father's cold hand and ignoring the hole that was on it.

(Y/n) quickly whipped her eyes and she felt her phone vibrate. "(Y/n)." (Y/n) said softly not bothering to look at the Caller ID. "Hello Ms. Silverberg." A woman's voice said causing (Y/n) to strengthen up. "Justine." (Y/n) called with a small smile. "Is Chris okay?" (Y/n) asked and waited patiently. "Yes, his at you house waiting for you. I'm sorry for you lost (Y/n)." Justin said causing (Y/n) to bit her bottem lips. "Thank you. I might need help getting there fast, I don't want to crash due to my state of mind at the moment." (Y/n) said softly as she then kissed her father head before leaving the morgue and building to get to her car.

"I'm on it," Justin said as (Y/n) smiled softly seeing green lights. "I know Chris doesn't tell you this but I will. You are the best Justine." (Y/n) said softly then hung up.

Time Skip

"Chris." (Y/n) called as she parked her car on the side and ran to the entrance door. "(Y/n)... is it true," Chris asked softly as (Y/n) stood close but not enough. "I wish it wasn't. But I saw him... it had to be them." (Y/n) said softly as Chris awkwardly wrapped his arms around his partner. (Y/n) bit her bottom to as she nuzzled herself closer to Chris and wrap her arms around his waisted.