Logan James Howlett/Wolverine (Comics/X-Men Films)
Victor Creed/Sabretooth (Comics/X-Men Films)
COD - 141 (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Captain John Price, Nikolai)
Eddie Brock/Venom (Sonyverse/Comics)
Matthew Murdock/Daredevil (NMCU/Comics)
Frank Castle/The Punisher (NMCU)
Billy Russo/Jigsaw (NMCU)
Mikey Berzatto (The Bear)
-Call of Duty (Gaz, Ghost, Price, Soap)-
• Drabbles/Headcanon •
141 + Sex Toys* (Headcanon)
141 + Kisses (Headcanon)
Oral Fixation (Ghoap Mini Drabble)
Ghost Ruining You* (Drabble)
Sweet Treat (Teasing Johnny Drabble)
• Devil in the Details* (Shortform/Drabble Series) •
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Pairing: Eventual John Price x F!Reader
Summary: Captain John Price is pushed over the edge after the loss of his team. He makes a desperate deal to rectify his mistakes and alleviate his grief, not understanding the cost he'll have to pay is always more than expected.
Content: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Demon AU, Dark themes, Supernatural events, Grief/death, Corruption
-Frank Castle/The Punisher (NMCU)-
• Rinse & Repeat* (One-Shot) •
[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]
Rating: Explicit 18+
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: Frank comes home bloody and filthy from a rough night out and you can't help but clean him up.
Content: Mentions of blood, Domestic fluff, Super soft Frank, Smut (F/M), Shower sex, Bareback (no condom), Creampie
-Eddie Brock/Venom (Sonyverse/Marvel Comics)-
• Cheque Please!* (One-Shot) •
[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]
Rating: Explicit 18+
Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: Venom gets a little too enthusiastic after you offer him a treat on date night with Eddie.
Content: Smut (F/M), Semi-public sex, Alien sex, Tentacles/tendrils, Oral sex (F receiving)
-Adrian Chase/Vigilante (Peacemaker DCU)-
• Headcanons •
Training
First Kill
Vigilantemobile
Organization
SFW Character Alphabet
NSFW Character Alphabet*
• Helluva Drug* (One-Shot) •
[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]
Rating: Explicit 18+
Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Civilian!FReader
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: A civilian gets caught in the crossfire as Vigilante busts a drug operation outside Evergreen and they both get exposed to a strange new substance.
Content: Violence, Kidnapping, Dubcon (sex pollen), Accidental Drugging, Smut (F/M), Sex with strangers, Rough sex, Unprotected Sex (no condom)
• It's His Birthday* (One-Shot) •
[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]
Rating: Explicit 18+
Word Count: 5.7k
Pairing: Adrian Chase x F!Reader
Summary: The 11th street kids take Adrian out to a bar for his birthday and try to set him up with the cute bartender.
Content: Alcohol Use, Flirting, Fluff, Smut (F/M)
• Pair of Aces* (Series - Ongoing/HIATUS) •
Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+
Pairing: Vigilante x F!Reader
Summary: After Peacemaker nearly blows the mission at the Goff mansion, Waller sends in a new team member to pick up slack and assist Task Force X with Project Butterfly.Series Content: Mature themes, Graphic Violence, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Smut (F/M)
there's the same look in your eyes. (18+, suggestive content, a little ghoap sprinkled inside)
"do it, bonnie."
the giggle that leaves you is maniacal as you hit the button. the whole building explodes, a large gust of fire and smoke and sparks that forces you and johnny to stumble back a few feet as you keep watching.
when he looks over at you, you're still looking out at it. there's fire in your gaze, and it sparkles. joy in you—excitement. there's something fucked up inside of you. the same nasty thing that must live inside of him.
he sees it in you during drills. knelt in front of the wires, watching it all spark as you twist them together. that smile on your face as you cut so confidently, tongue in your cheek now as the timer goes down, down down—just a few seconds left, and your last cut stops it from detonating. you laugh, looking up at your sergeant, sitting up on your knees.
"giving you a run for your money, huh, soap?"
he's caught staring when he's overseeing you shoot. the stock of the rifle in your shoulder, your head tilted as you look through the scope and fire intermittently. you shift on your stomach, spine arching, and johnny kisses his teeth as the curve of your ass is the only thing he can pay attention to—
"don't."
his lieutenant, much like his name, appears without warning. johnny jumps a little, cursing under his breath, his eyes going to the sky as he rolls out his shoulders.
"huh?"
"can't handle oll tha'," ghost mutters.
"fuck off," johnny rolls his eyes, but he's thinking it, and it's there now, and he can't stop thinking about it now. not when drills are over. not when you're seated in the mess, eating supper. not when he's in his bed, hand wrapped around his cock, drooling around your name as he thinks about what he supposedly can't handle.
if ghost tried and failed, it's probably because he can't read you the way he can.
he failed with me, slick bastard—
you're the one to make the first move. another mission, another detonation, another night with stars in your eyes that you put there yourself. no debrief, no break, just pure adrenaline as you grip the front of his vest and corner him in a closet, putting your mouth on his. he doesn't ask how you knew, because you must just be made for him. you're trying to eat him from the inside out, tongue across his teeth, whining into his mouth. you're grinding against his thigh like it's the last thing you'll ever do, cupping him over his jeans. you're a feral cat, pawing for your next meal, and johnny is getting dizzy from all the blood rushing south.
it's easy with you. everything is. you are spitfire and sparks flying in one woman. you bite and you snarl and you disobey, and he keeps following you into chaos because he keeps chasing that same look in those eyes. those beautiful eyes. those terrible ones. the ones that tell him everything you are too afraid to say out loud—because who would recognize you then?
does anyone recognize you now?
you pass by ghost in the mess, hitting his arm as you shove past him. he grunts, looking back at you, and you stop to look up at him. you run your tongue over your teeth to taunt him.
"your loss is my gain, i guess," you smile.
"didn't peg you as someone who fancies sloppy seconds."
"awww, don't do that to yourself, lieutenant," you pat his chest gently, and he looks at your hand as if it stung him. "it's okay to admit you don't know what you're doing. you're getting old. lost your game. it happens. better luck next time."
you leave, but his eyes follow you the whole way. eyes on the sway of you, your walk, your ass that you can't contain in any cargo pants you wear.
Thinking about how Mystique & Destiny allowed the Five to resurrect Birdy on Krakoa but under the sole condition to not let her near Victor.
Thinking about Birdy wandering around the island, feeling out of place and lost, head whipping around every time she saw yellow fur or a tall blond figure, wondering if all the mutants are here why isn't he here?
Thinking about how she probably felt like Victor abandoned her, that he chose not to come get her and start over. That in this new utopian mutant paradise, he probably didn't need the glow anymore and that meant he didn't need her.
Thinking about Victor being stuck in the Pit the entire damn time, not even knowing she was back.
Thinking about Cypher/Krakoa knowing Birdy is back and purposely keeping it from Victor until his "therapy" sessions and then using it as bait. Letting him see her, letting him watch her. She's happy, she has a team, and friends, and a new life. Without him. She's smiling and laughing and helping people. Without him. She's alive again. And she'll only stay that way, without him.
She doesn't even know he's there, just out of reach. Watching her through the flowers and the grass, smelling her in the air... and then getting pulled right back to The Pit with nothing but his own mind to torture him. Stuck in the deepest darkest hole, the Inferno to Mutant's Paradise, knowing his sins are being atoned for and yet he's still being punished. He doesn't get to see her. He's not allowed to make her smile and he certainly won't be allowed to make her scream.
Frank Castle x female reader. You saved Frank's life and now you're somewhere you didn't expect to be., and unsure how to feel about it. Some very vague history with Matt but he's in the bad books for an unknown reason... You decide! 😌
Warnings: sex, sado masochism, lying, undefined relationship, maybe reader is lying to herself?
“‘He know that you're here?”
You don't answer, instead concentrating on the way Frank is touching you. His hand just under the hem of your top, tracing slowly over the raised ragged skin on your side just above your hip. It has almost fully healed, torn flesh rapidly meshing together just like you and him had been. He feels for the scar every time you're together, which is happening more and more. It's the reminder, the tangible evidence of what you did, the bullet you saved him from. He'd come back to it, later, when he's inside you and you'll clasp your hand over his, urging him to press, to dig his fingers in and coax out the sharp pain that comes with a tsunami of euphoria.
Almost healed, almost…
And then what would come after? When the pain had faded to nothing would you still find yourself here?
Sometimes you didn't think you could stand the raw tenderness with which he handled you, but then he'd slip the button of your pants and slide his hand so easily into your underwear, a shared groan at the discovery of how wet you were, even though he always had you aching for him every time. He'd roll the very tip of his finger lightly around your clit making you moan out, your head falling back giving him space for him to kiss his way up the column of it, nipping at your jaw and shh-shh-shhing you gently in the otherwise quiet of the stark, utilitarian safehouse.
“Frank… don't tease…” you'd warn, and you'd feel his smile against your skin.
“You sure?” He'd ask, pitch of his voice lilting upwards, circling softly again. It was so often a rhetorical question, knowing that sometimes you needed it drawn right out and slowed way down. More often than not he could tell, but you didn't want that tonight.
“Please- I-” you make a pained sound that hits him right in the gut making him briefly withdraw.
“Anythin’ you want, sweetheart.”
And it was true. He owed you his life, you gave him that, when you threw yourself in front of that gun. Whether he wanted it or not there was no question. He would do anything for you in return for that gift, and you wanted him to do this. It was easy. Transactional.
He jumps into action, making quick work of getting your pants and other clothes off, your own hands scrabbling and pawing at his shirt and jeans with urgency to get him similarly naked.
In next to no time he's hoisting you up in his arms and you're wrapping your limbs around him as he makes the few easy steps to the nearest wall, you've barely time to breathe before he lines up and pushes inside. You're outside your body now, watching him watch your reaction as he wastes no time rocking his hips up into you, your mouth hanging open and eyes beginning to almost roll back into your head as he sets a solid steady pace.
“This what you need?” he's asking, “just like that… yeah?” his head nestles into the crook of your neck, his full beard always surprisingly soft against your skin. You're so tight and wet that he's already gritting his teeth hard to keep a handle in his own control and that just increases the building fiery flame of desire within you.
“Uhuh… yeah, l-like tha– fuck, Frank–” he slams his hips up effortlessly, punching your breath out, holding you up like you're nothing, everything. You only land back down in your body when he props you up with just a single hand under your ass, the others' fingers grabbing your chin and turning your head to look straight at him. Your eyes are blown black to the irises like night pools, but his are even darker. Yes, this was the Frank Castle you needed tonight, the one that showed no mercy. The Punisher, the one that wouldn't stop until you cried ‘Red’.
A poor choice for a safe word perhaps, a simple stop sign tied up to so much complex baggage. If Frank gave a shit he didn't show it, and besides he'd never gone as far for you to ever need to say it, you're not sure he would.
He could though.
Shit, you're too in your head, you didn't think that was even possible with the way Frank was fucking you right now. Somehow he can tell, his strong, thick fingers moving to grip around your neck like a collar, just enough pressure to bring you back where you need to be.
“Where'd you go pretty girl? Right here with me, hm?”
God he was so good. Soft and fierce in the way he shows his loyalty to you, his adoration of you. You could tell him to get off and leave and you know he'd do it. Sure he'd argue, but he'd do it because you told him to. Transactional.
The hand around your neck slips down and your head knocks back against the wall as he runs it over your tits before diving to kiss the rounded swell of soft skin and suckle hard on your peaked nipple. He gives each of them equal attention, using his tongue and teeth to send shivers of pleasure down your spine toward your core.
“Bed.” You eventually direct with an airy gasp, and he's taking you there sharpish, laying you out on the worn twin mattress like a princess. He grabs the pillow, folding it in half and stuffing it under your lower back to tilt your pelvis so he can hit you just right, the way that makes your heart pound and your toes curl.
You pull him down by the neck, whimpering with need and bringing his mouth to your own as he's stretching you open with his cock again. The kiss feels like a fight, violent like you need to prove your passion is only that, refusing to let him have you so easy despite everything. Frank curses at the sting of your nails gouging tracks down his back, hisses as you bite and tug his lower lip, but he doesn't stop the dirty roll and scoop of his hips. If anything it spurs him on. You're greedy and he wants nothing more than to see you satisfied, even in these stolen moments between the relentless cycle of bullets, fists, and blood in the Kitchen.
Your hands furrow through the longer, curly lengths of his dark hair, your panting mouth murmuring his name right by his ear while he drills that heavenly place inside you with a precise ease.
“Attagirl,” he growls low as your own pitched moans heighten with every long thrust, powering you towards oblivion. He's supporting himself above you with one arm, the muscles bulging obscenely, the other hand sliding up your thigh encouraging you to wrap them tight around his waist as he moves further up your body, sliding in even deeper.
The small room is stifling with the heat of the summer night and sweat slicks your skin, simultaneously sticking and gliding your bodies to each other. Your fingers claw into the flesh of his ass as his chest drags over your sensitive nipples with each quickening thrust. Frank watches you closely, staving off his own pleasure for the chance of a raw view of your own. You can feel the fuse burning hotter, getting closer to the point where just one more spark will send you over the edge.
“Frank, please… do it, fucking do it!”
He knows exactly what you mean but you guide his hand regardless as he needs the clear consent. He'd never want to risk hurting you without it.
“Yeah I got you sweetheart, I got you,” Frank digs his fingers hard into that mark in your side that binds you. “c'mon… there you go, c'mon–”
And that's it. The pain is white hot and deep. You cry out, tears spilling over as you convulse in ecstacy underneath him, his eyes are boring into your soul bare with emotion as he works you through it. Your body clenching, pulsing, squeezing around him when he unloads with a feral sound that tails off into a vulnerable whimper you swear you've never heard from him before.
Transactional, that's all there is to it.
“He know you're here?” When he asks again, Frank has you wrapped in his arms, your head laying on his chest, the spacey haze of your tryst just starting to mellow.
‘No’, was what you said, but you suspected that Matt did know. There was only so much you could hide with a shower, even if you did always use your own bodywash instead of anything of Frank's.
“I told him I was going out with Jessica. She'll cover for me.”
“Red’ll know you're lyin’” Frank points out, brushing his fingertips lightly along your arm.
“Ah but I was out with Jess, then I came here so technically…"
He just shakes his head, a slight smile creeping across his lips as he considers your logic. “Alright, alright.”
“It doesn't matter what Matt thinks, he doesn't have a say in what I do with my life. Not after what happened.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“You're a good guy.” You counter, and Frank scoffs loudly.
“Now that's a goddamn lie and you know it.”
You turn in his arms, looking up at him with a serious expression. “I wouldn't have thought you worth saving otherwise, would I?”
“Is that how it works?”
“Yeah, things can be pretty simple like that, Frank.” You weren't sure you even believed the words coming out of your own mouth.
“Hmm.”
There's silence, then he kisses the top of your head.
You don't know what it means.
Maybe it's as close to I love you as the two of you would ever get, and that was okay.
youre offline because you have an irl life and miss one load bearing post on here and all of a sudden you dont understand any of the vagues on your dash for the next week
