#jon bernthal

“Shit!”  

The taxi driver waved a sorry as his cab sped past you on the asphalt. You watched as the last chance at a lift home disappeared around the corner. Huffing, you glanced around and tried to think of a better way to get home than walking 15 blocks in heels. 

Your best friend was getting married, which is how you ended up on the sidewalk outside a club in the upper east side at two in the morning. Her bachelorette had been fun, but it was entirely too late for you to be walking around New York City by yourself. 

A chuckle startled you out of your thoughts, instantly putting you on alert to a person standing behind you. Swinging around, you groped in your purse for the knife Frank had gifted you for your birthday. You halted your movements when you realized it was Frank’s amused face staring back at you. 

“What are you doing here?” You said, immediately forgetting the knife and the sense of dread that had begun creeping up your spine. You grinned, walking into his open arms with glee.  

“You didn’t think I’d let you walk home alone, did you?”  

His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close to his warmth. His hands drifted across your lower back, fiddling with the texture of your dress.  

“You’re such a gentleman, Frank Castle.” You inhaled his scent, wishing you could drown yourself in it. He smelled of leather and lavender. It had quickly become your favorite scent in the world. 

Frank really was a gentleman. You were constantly surprised by the little things he’d do to make sure you were taken care of. There were always fresh flowers in your bedroom every week. You never had to worry about paying the bills at restaurants, though you still tried to win that argument every time you went out. You hadn’t even come close to touching a door handle in Frank's presence. That’s what happened when you dated older men, you supposed.  

Frank was certainly older than any man you’d dated before. Unlike the dreadful men your own age, Frank was experienced and kind. He treated you like a privilege, rather than something to obtain. You didn’t know a world like that existed until you’d run smack into Frank’s chest one night trying to hide from an obnoxious intern at the Anvil Security annual Christmas party. He’d taken your hand in his so gently that you couldn’t help but to be swept away from the rest of the world. You’d been smitten ever since. 

Frank showing up after your night out shouldn’t have been a surprise to you. He would always protect you. That was a promise he never intended to break. You felt it in the way he’d stroke your hair every night as you fell asleep on his chest. The way he’d press a gentle kiss to your temple and whisper stories about his family, who had died five years before you’d met. The way he held you tight after a nightmare. His anxieties surrounded you in a protective bubble, but you were happy to work through his worries with him whenever he was too anxious to relax. 

His appearance didn’t fix the problem you’d been stewing over moments before, though. 

“You don’t happen to have a car hidden somewhere nearby, do you?” You asked, looking up through your lashes at his handsome face.  

“I don’t,” he winced, “but I’ve been told I give pretty great piggyback rides.” 

He turned, stooping lower so you could jump onto his back. 

His strength was also something you were pleasantly surprised to learn about. He was not the typical older man you’d see walking down the street. Frank was in better shape than anyone you’d ever met. His muscles were downright droolworthy, even through the layers of clothing he wore when he did his work around Hell’s Kitchen. 

The walk back to your apartment was pleasant, and no one bothered you now that you had a beefy steed carrying you through the streets of New York. He hadn’t even broken a sweat when he set you down on your doorstep, grinning at the sleepy features that had overtaken your face. 

“It’s way past our bedtime.” You yawned, turning the key and stumbling through the doorway. Frank waited outside, watching you scramble for the light switch.  

“Frank, you don’t have to wait to be invited in every time.” You stated, dropping your purse on the table in the entryway. 

“I never want to assume,” he stated, though he quickly shut the door behind him. 

“You basically live here, anyway.” You glanced at the spot on the couch that he’d clearly been settled into while you were gone. The blanket had been folded and neatly hung across the back of the loveseat, which was your only indication that Frank had been here. If he hadn’t, it would still be the crumpled ball you’d left it in earlier. 

He nodded, smiling as you flopped into the loveseat and began clawing your heels off your sore feet.  

“I even have a key.” He observed, glancing at the door to make sure he’d locked both deadbolts. He’d shown up and installed the second one as a precaution after learning which neighborhood you lived in.  

“I don’t remember the last time you didn’t sleep here.” You pointed out, dropping your heels to the floor. He had an apartment, but you were pretty sure he hadn’t been there in months. 

He dropped onto the seat next to you, pulling your feet into his lap. His strong fingers began massaging the arches of your feet, eliciting a groan from your throat. 

“If you move in, I’ll let you do this whenever you want.” You sagged into your seat, allowing Frank to work the tight muscles with his dexterous hands.  

He chuckled, watching your eyebrows clench in both pain and relief.  

“I don’t know how I could pass that deal by.” He pinpointed the sore spot on your foot that was the cause of the pain, pulling such a filthy groan from your throat that you were pretty sure the temperature in the room rose 20 degrees. 

“You can’t make noises like that, sweet girl.” He cleared his throat, trying to refocus his thoughts. 

“Why not, Frankie?” You arched an eyebrow at him, suddenly feeling the urge to rip his clothes off. 

“You know why.” His voice was hoarse, a sure sign that you were working him up.  

His hands grazed over your calves, following the curve of your knee to the midpoint of your thigh before slowly returning to your ankle. His hands moved in a melodic pattern, slowly inching higher and higher up your legs with every pass. You watched his eyes darken as another groan slipped from your lips. 

“Sweet girl,” he warned, eyeing the fabric of your dress, which had risen so high you were probably on full display for him, “Where are your panties?” 

A wicked grin played on your face as you widened your legs for him.  

“I didn’t wear any.” You stated, watching his jaw tick.  

“Why not?” His voice was so hoarse. You couldn’t help the pounding in your core as his eyes glazed over.  

“I didn’t want to.” You shrugged, stifling a groan as his fingers grazed your inner thighs, feeling the wetness waiting for him there. His eyes were so dark they looked black as he glanced from your wet pussy to your innocent face. You blinked at him, shy at his intense stare. 

“You’re perfect.” He mumbled, running a finger through the mess he’d already made, even though he’d barely touched you. You gaped as he slowly brought the finger to his lips, tasting your desire. A carnal desire to be on top of him surged through your body, and you suddenly found yourself straddling his waist. His hands gripped the back of your thighs tightly. Whimpering, you slowly arched into him, grinding against the hardness you felt through his jeans. 

“I’m going to ruin your jeans.” You observed plainly, but you couldn’t stop even if you tried. His thick cock was barely contained in his jeans, and you were already close to coming. You couldn’t believe he was still clothed.  

“I don’t mind, sweetheart.” He grunted, fisting the fabric that had bunched at your waist.  

You groaned, grinding against him even harder. His hands guided you against him, watching as you came undone on top of him. You came so hard that you saw stars, gasping for air as heat enveloped your body. Your ears rang as you continued to grind against him, albeit a little slower as you came down from your high.  

A satisfied grin played on Frank’s face as he lifted himself from his seat, holding you tightly against his torso as he walked you toward the bed you shared every night. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you couldn’t stop yourself from surging forward to kiss him as he carried you. 

His tongue met yours in a heated joining. The little air you had left in your lungs whooshed from your body as he laid you down on the bed, unwilling to separate himself even for a moment. When your lungs eventually barked at you, you finally broke away, gasping for air as he towered above you.  

His jeans were soaked where you’d come undone on his lap. Frank shot you a wicked grin when he saw the damage you’d done. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized he was no longer touching you. Frank, ever the gentleman, slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling the bunched fabric of your dress over your head.  

The heat in the room was not enough to stop your nipples from pebbling as he slowly removed his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. You whimpered as his cock finally sprang free, instantly sending another wave of heat to your core.  

Frank grinned as he leaned down to plant another kiss to your forehead. He left a trail of kisses down your body, nuzzling against your breasts. His warmth washed over you, leaving you begging for more contact as he slowly worked his way down your torso, peppering kisses along the curve of your hips. He nipped at your inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from your quivering body. 

“Baby,” His hands wrapped tightly around your legs, pulling you towards the edge of the bed., “Can I taste you?” 

He asked so politely that you almost giggled. Even when you were splayed out in front of him, a feast willing and able to be eaten alive by the man in front of you, he was gently asking for consent.  

“Please, Frankie.” You mumbled, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. 

“My pleasure.” He grunted, immediately attacking your core with his tongue. Your back arched involuntarily, a groan crawling out of your throat as he swiped his tongue across your clit.  

“Oh!” You breathed, clenching your eyes shut as he licked your pussy with the ferocity of a starved man.  

Your breathy moans catapulted out of you. Pleasure overtook your being, and the only thing keeping you on Earth was the man currently feasting on your pussy. Frank ate pussy like no man you’d met before. It was his privilege to eat you out, and he took the opportunity every time it was presented to him. He was so skilled at it that you almost felt shame for how awful your sex life had been before him.  

Frank shifted, pinning your writhing body to the mattress below him. He grunted against you as you let out another filthy moan, seeing stars for the second time in less than 20 minutes. A wave of heat washed over you at the sound of his desire, sending you over the edge.  

Vision blurred, ears ringing, you came all over his bearded face. The sight of it had Frank gripping your hips so tightly they’d probably be a little bruised, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Frank was the only man who could get you this worked up, and you loved it. 

“There you go baby.” He peppered kisses across your inner thighs, smearing the mess he’d made even further. “You did so good, sweet girl.” 

You gasped for air, blindly searching for his warmth as you tried to figure out which direction was up and which one was down. He eagerly met you halfway, pushing his weight onto the mattress has he hovered over your pleasure-soaked body. 

“Frank,” you gasped, still breathing hard, “Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are at eating pussy?” 

He grinned, tapping your lips with a tsk.  

“Wicked girl, you have such a filthy mouth.” 

You smiled up at him. 

“You love my mouth.” 

“Yes,” he nodded curtly, lowering himself to his elbows and allowing his warmth to wash over you. 

“Can I use my filthy mouth on you, now?” You asked, watching the carnal desire in Frank’s eyes. 

“No.” He shook his head once, chuckling at the frown that played on your face. “I love your mouth, baby, but I can’t go another second without being inside of you.” 

Understanding dawned on your face as you shifted your hips, allowing him easy access. He nudged at your entrance, searching your face for any hesitation. You surged forward, pulling him into a deep kiss as your answer, which of course was not enough for Frank. 

He pulled away, chuckling at your eagerness.  

“I need words, sweet girl.” He nuzzled his forehead against yours, patiently waiting for you to allow him the honor of ravishing you whole. 

“Frankie,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. “Please, please, please, fuck me.” 

He didn’t hesitate as he slid into you, groaning at the warmth. You moaned with him, suddenly feeling the weight of his cock inside you. A growing pressure built in your core, already begging for release. 

Frank slowly began moving, sliding in and out at a torturous pace. You knew he was waiting for you to adjust to his size, but you were tired of waiting. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you hard, eliciting a groan from deep in your chest. 

Frank huffed a laugh, cradling your head as he began pounding into you. The slickness of your pussy was enough to make him crumble. He watched pleasure overtake your features, grunting at the tightness around his cock. The bed beneath you was shaking so violently you thought it might break. You held on to Frank’s strong arms, digging your nails into the muscles cradling your face. 

“Oh, Frank.” You mumbled, breathing hard as he shifted his weight, sliding into you from a deeper angle. 

“I love you,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against yours as he pounded into you even harder. “More than anything.” 

It was enough to be your third undoing this evening. His love and adoration washed over you as you came, arching your back into his body. He watched as you clenched your eyes shut, holding on for dear life. He’d never forget the look on your face when you came around him. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as you. 

You breathed hard as you came back down to Earth, grinding your hips against Frank in an unsteady rhythm. His jaw ticked as he held himself back from ruining your high with his own. He wanted to live in that pleasure with you. He’d torture himself all night if it meant he got to see that look in your eyes. 

You pulled him in for another kiss. It was never enough. You needed Frank more and more every time you saw him. It would never be enough. You were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.  

Frank kept a steady pace of slamming into your sensitive pussy. You couldn’t help but push your weight against him, rolling him onto his back as you continued grinding on top of him. You knew Frank would draw your pleasure out for as long as he could, but you wanted to see him crumble in indulgence too.  

Frank sat up with a gratified grunt, wrapping his arms around your waist. His strong arms guided your pussy against him. A noise lodged in your throat at how sensitive you were after Frank had thoroughly wrecked you, but you kept moving, determined to see his pleasure through. 

He grinned as you writhed against him, groaning when you pushed your tongue into his mouth. One hand remained on your hip, while the other gripped your hair in a tight fist at the column of your neck. The small moan that slipped through his lips was indication enough that you were winning this fight. 

The hand gripping your hip tightened enough to extract a breathy moan from your mouth, sending him over the edge. Warm cum shot deep inside you, and you couldn’t stop smiling as Frank struggled to get a grip on his pleasure. You rested your head against his, relaxing into his strong frame as you drank in as much pleasure as you could. Frank was nothing if he was not a giver in the bedroom, but you could get drunk off the look on his face when he came. 

The room quieted, moans fading into silent breaths as you entangled yourself into him even further. His hands slowly rubbed at your hips, easing the pain he’d caused earlier with his grip. 

“I think I will move in, if that’s okay with you.” He said in an exhausted mumble. 

You straightened, leaning back to look at his tired face.  

“Of course it’s okay with me, Frankie!” You smiled, glee overtaking the sleepy peace you’d been enveloped in moments before.  

“Good. I haven’t even been to my apartment in weeks. I think I’m paying the rent for a family of mice.” He chuckled at the sorry state of his apartment. At least rent was cheap in Hell’s Kitchen. 

“I love you.” You grinned, pulling him into a kiss. 

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He grinned back. One hand held you steady as he reached toward the nightstand that held towels for this exact scenario. 

Gentleman, indeed.  

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