#the punisher request

[chvoswxtch]

Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to. 

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different. 

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them. 

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie. 

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight. 

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years. 

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy. 

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now. 

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt. 

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment. 

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home. 

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago. 

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[saewokhrisz]

moar shuake retrospring requests

[amhrosina]

Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face

a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!

warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy

masterlist // join my taglist

You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”

Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.

“Sweetheart?”

His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.

“Hey, Frankie.”

You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 

“What happened?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.

“Did someone hurt you?” 

His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 

“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”

He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.

“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 

You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”

“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 

You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”

“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.

“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”

You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 

“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.

“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”

“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”

Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 

“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 

“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”

“I thought you’d be more mad.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”

You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.

“What were you cooking before I came home?”

Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”

You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.

Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.

“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”

He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.

“You found it?” You gasped.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.

“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”

He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”

You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 

“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”

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[sigmahimejoshi]

Silly little sub who bad mouthed their dom a hour before they have a sleepover with their friends. They think they're going to be let off easily but are proven wrong once they're being edged by their dom in front of all their friends. They're also getting needy over the audience they have. Being told things like "Spread your legs, winder." "You should turn the setting on higher!" and "Show everyone how slutty you are" by their friends. Their dom is showing them off like they're a prized possession and all this attention makes them cum hard which makes everyone in the room laugh at them

[reactionimagesdaily]

Any ones that encapsulate the feeling of giggling kicking your feet like a cartoon girl with her crush or is that. Too specific.

My own crushes have sent me into a feet-kicking mood before so I getcha

[chellestrash]

Pretty and Sweet

Frank Castle x F!Reader

request: Omg I got Drabble in my mind Please write Frank Castle being obsessed with reader wearing Lacey pinky clothes because she looks cute in it and then he says things like“Such a pretty girl” “you look adorable in this I should get you clothes, would you like that sweetheart?”Or him being a soft dom and overstiming the reader in their lingerie“Just one more sweet girl”“your shaking honey” Just like praising her the whole time and being sweet but is being rough 🤭 Frank just gives that vibe he’d be so sweet

warnings: pet names, explicit language, smut, teasing, fingering (f!receiving), sub!reader, dom!frank

word count: 1k

a/n: i haven't done requests in sooooo long I'm not even sure if I know what to do anymore. I know this tool a lot longer than it probably should and I'm aware its not exactly what you asked for anon but i did my best i hope you get to enjoy it. If you end up reading it please let me know what you think!

“You gonna wear all that and then try to tell me you weren't trying to get my attention, sweetheart. Huh?”

Frank's voice rumbles through the air, filling the dark space of the bedroom the moment his body leans over yours. You smile a soft innocent smile, contrary to the current situation you found yourself in. 

“I just thought they were pretty.”

Dragging your finger over the straps of the pastel pink lingerie, you trace your eyes up and back to his face. The warm feeling at the bottom of your stomach gradually grows stronger as you let Frank's eyes skim over your body. His big hands were on either side of your head, his chest hung in the air over your own, one of his knees now wedged between your legs.

“Yeah?”

The firm frown on his face makes the muscles in your thighs twitch slightly and for a second you wonder if he noticed. He did. His eyebrows raise slightly and an unimpressed expression on his face when he glances down and back up into your eyes the second your body betrays you.

“Really?”

You fight with yourself, trying to play this off as nonchalantly as possible but you know, you know with Frank, with the way he knows his way around you, that's nearly impossible. 

“One question is all it takes to get to you, sweetheart?”

“Frank.”

You begin to explain yourself, the heat on your face prickling slightly when his eyes trace over your body one more time.

“Shh shh shh.”

That goddamn whisper. You swallow hard, feeling his thumb brush over the edge of your lower lip. The pounding in your chest picks up slightly.

“Just wanted me to see you in this, huh?”

You nod, a silent confirmation followed by Frank's quiet, low chuckle. 

“Right so, let's say I believe you, yeah?”

With your eyes fixed on his you listen, your chest rising and falling faster than before when his hand finally caresses your body. 

“Do you like it?”

You whisper, your hand now resting on his bigger one. His fingers brush over your sides, over the soft fabric of the lacy details. Frank scoffs, not at your question, only at the fact that you try to question the way he could feel about this. 

“Really gonna ask me that?”

Tracing over the straps, his eyes drop one more time. Following his gaze, his fingers trace over the many straps and buckles of your pastel pink lingerie set. You watch as he lets out a quiet grunt, followed by a hum when his eyes shut for a moment.

“Such a pretty girl, huh?”

Mumbling the praise he finds your eyes again, a split second before your body involuntarily reacts to his words.

“All that for me?”

Squirming under his body, you nod quickly. The need for his touch rises with every other minute he chooses to devote to letting the situation get the best of you. 

“Frankie, answer me.”

Feeling brave, you use the pet name to get his attention. His focus is now on your face once more, eyebrows raised, impressed with your choice of words.

“Oh, look at that, using your big girl words today?”

Moving his knee to the side, Frank pushes your legs apart slightly more. His hands are still on your side, rubbing over your exposed skin. The touch feels reassuring and so do his words. 

“Just want to know if you like the set. I picked it up in the store I thought it-”

“Sweetheart, the only place this thing would look better is right there on the floor.”

He nods his head to the side and you feel yourself getting warmer again. Rising your hips slightly, you gently grind against his leg once, then pause, waiting for his response. 

“You wanna ruin these? Hmm, you think it's worth it, sweetheart?”

Dragging his fingers down your stomach and then over the fabric, Frank begins to rub slow, gentle circles over your center through the pink fabric. Your lips part with a quiet gasp and your fingers wrap tightly around his free hand. The touch you’ve waited on for so long now, finally where you wanted it the most. Thankful for his decision,you breathe out relieved. Relaxing your body into Frank's palm, you confirm your desire for his attention. 

“That okay? Hmm? Can I touch you here, baby?”

The pressure intensifies slightly, your breath hitches, legs pressing together faster than you can even attempt to stop it.

“Mhm.”

You murmur, not wanting his question to remain hanging in the silence of the room.

“Think we're gonna have to get rid of those, huh, sweetheart?”

The question rings out in your head as you try your best to focus on Frank's words once more. Hooking his fingers over the waistband of the lower part of the pink underwear, he pulls the fabric down, his body moving as he leans closer to you. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, he presses a gentle kiss right under your belly button. His warm kisses follow the soft sensation of the fabric brushing over your skin while Frank exposes more and more of you with every kiss. 

Finally touching you without the barrier of the garment, Frank chuckles softly, satisfied but not surprised with how much the whole situation got to you.

“Attagirl, you like that, huh?”

Paired with his touch the question has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and you dig your nails into his palm. 

“Fr-”

You start, but pause, biting your lip once he slips his finger inside you slowly.

“Shhh shhh shhh, that's it, sweet girl, that's it.”

Turning his head to the side, he plants the kiss on the inside of your thigh, the touch even softer than the kisses from moments ago. After pulling them out, he pushes his fingers inside again, then again and again. The repeated motion picks up pace as he begins to work his thumb over your clit.

“Oh f-mmmm.”

You hum, and he scoffs loudly, breaking the overly sweet character. He can't help but tease you and your hips buck up slightly.

“Shit, sweetheart, really? That much?”

“Frank-”

“You wanna say something? Hmm? Think you’ll have to speak up, baby.”

The pet name contrasts with the teasing character of the statement and your body reacts one more time. 

“Cause if you won't talk sweetheart. I think this will take a long, looong time.”

[saintmisu]

HEAR ME OUT🙏

Mountain wrecking dew.

Ily Misu

-Curly

ily2 😈😈 -> https://poipiku.com/4197086/9961609.html

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

I am but a simple whore humbly requesting some frogging with a jealous frankie in a bathroom stall at a bar 😇 (I thought the gif might spark inspo or just rile you up like it did me)

congratulations on your milestone angel!!! you deserve it so much and I LOVE YOU MWAH 💘💋🫶🏻

a/n: honestly just how dare you plop this idea in my brain. how dare you. you know what you're doing... you know exactly what you're doing... like I don't fucking stop breathing every time I see him take off his belt..... ahhh I think I'm gonna pass out (also I never write smut with this little dirty talk, but that was just the vibe. needy, desperate, silent. at least the beginning, what I wrote... in my head they start screaming by the end)

word count: 887

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

masterlist | join my taglist | join my 3k celebration! 

“Wow, Frank,” you protest as the bison of a man pushes you into the vacant bathroom, “what are you doing here?” pushing his strong hands off of you as the door slammed behind him. 

“What am I-, what are you doing here?” he growled, towering over you. 

Crossing your arms, you scoffed at his audacity, “I am allowed to go out and have a drink.”

Narrowing his dark eyes at you, he shook his head lightly and uttered, “you were not just having a drink. If you wanted just a drink, then you would have stayed at home.”

“And why would you care?” you sighed, completely over his bullshit, wanting so badly to just push passed him and return to your reckless plan of blowing off some steam and perhaps finally getting over the bastard standing in front of you right now. 

His sturdy nose lightly twitched a second as his eyes drifted down your face, taking your breath away completely when he then unexpectedly reached out and pulled you into a fevered kiss. Reeling, a shuttering breath escaping your lungs as you eventually melted into the reality of what you had dreamed about for so long. 

“Because,” he pulled back, hands still lingering in your hair, “I can’t stand the thought of someone else so much as looking at you.”

Instead of scrambling your brain for the right words to respond with, you simply let your body lead and yanked his head back down to capture his lips with your own once more. Soon your tongue was dancing across his as you clawed at each other's bodies in order to get closer to one another. Hands palming the curve of your ass through the thin material of your flowy, floral dress, you let out a breathy yelp as his greedy hands suddenly grew impatient and scooped you up, drawing you that much closer to his warm body. 

Your lips jolted away from his as your back swiftly bumped into something, his stumbling feet haven carried you into one of the stalls. Letting your head rest back against the thin wall, you glanced down at Frank with hooded eyes as he slowly lowered you back down to your feet, letting his touch linger as he did so, gliding his warm palms down your sides and with his eyes locked on yours, gently fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

Goosebumps visible on your tingling skin, your own fingers dug into the fabric at your sides as you slowly hitched it up for him. Your knees nearly buckled as you then saw him sink down onto the cold tile, kneeling before you as he helped you expose yourself to him. 

Keeping his eyes on yours, his scratchy chin tickle your thigh as he began to slowly pepper pecks along your tender flesh and your body fell back against the stall completely. Running his wide palm up along your other leg, soon coming into contact with your underwear, you sucked in a needy breath as his broad thumb skimmed over the wet spot adorning the cotton, pressing down even more fiercely as your hips bucked in search of more. 

Hooking his finger in the fabric as his pillowy lips neared your centre, your pulse impossibly clear in your needy pearl, he tugged your soaked panties to the side and let a desperate groan rumbly deep within his throat as he took in the sight of your glistening folds. 

You clasped your hand over your lips as you felt his tongue began to swipe through your folds, nuzzling closer and bumping the bridge of his nose insistently against your clit as he sloppily made out with your pussy. 

Sinking into the long-yearned-for sensation, gazing down at him in awe, your eyes then grew wide as the sound of the lavatory door opening suddenly found your ears. Freezing up, your knee swiftly bumped his shoulder, pushing him off of you as you clutched your palm even harder against your lips, the summery dress flowing back down around your thighs. 

Not giving the boisterous audience a second thought, Frank simply slammed the stall’s door shut, twisted the lock and rose to his feet. Lower half of his face glossy with your desperation, breathless, he slumped back against the opposite wall and stared at you electrically. 

Your shoulders bounced in a giggle, accompanying the light shake your head offered as you listened to the drunks' conversation and reeled in the ridiculousness of this whole situation you had stumbled into. But when you looked back into Frank’s espresso eyes, it all melted away and you realised just how much you wanted this. You wanted him so much that you didn’t care where it was or who heard. You just wanted him.

Your hand finally dropped from your lips as your eyes too lowered, nearly letting out a whimper as you gazed at the palpable tent in his dark jeans. Absentmindedly, still on the other side of the stall, your deprived hand reached out and grabbed at the air between you. 

Catching your hand in his, your eyes briefly flickered up towards his, catching his cocky smirk before you glanced down again to see his free fingers begin to work at his leather belt, unhurriedly undoing the buckle as he gave your hand a squeeze.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[darlingshane]

whatta man for @souliebird

[friezaglasiencold]

We heard Frieza’s perspective, but Berryblue, how did his pregnancy with Kuriza go? I can’t imagine he was always….pleasant, to be around.

I’ll bet he told you it was painless?

No, no. The poor dear was miserable. Quite volatile, too—not that he’s ever been even-tempered…

By the time he realized his mistake it was too late to safely extract the child to place in an incubator. He let us all know how sorely he resented that.

[chvoswxtch]

what are your husband!frank headcanons because I love that grumpy man? 🤍

oh my darling sweet nonnie

I think about husband!frankie a lot and I have so many thots about this lets get into it

being married to frank castle

i've said this before and i'll say it again: frank is a hopeless romantic and no one can change my mind

he is a SUCKER for his spouse like literally would do anything they wanted

you wanna paint the kitchen barbie pink? sure baby, let me pick up some some paint

your bookshelf is full? hang on honey, i'll build you another

you had a bad day? where does your boss live *cocks gun*

frank is obsessed with his spouse like literally thinks they hung the moon and all the stars in the goddamn sky

I feel like after losing maria and the kids, when he gets another chance to be a husband, he's all in

he helps cook dinner, or even tells you he'll handle it for the night so that you can relax

he'll run you a nice hot bubble bath and light some candles if you had a stressful day

anything you pick up in the store and put back, he secretly sneaks into the cart

he listens to you vent, bc frank is a very good listener, and offers advice when he can

he surprises you with lunch dates, sends flowers to your job just to let you know he was thinking about you, calls you even if he's only going to be 5 minutes late coming home

he's very protective of you when you're out in public and doesn't let you out of his sight or let anyone get too close for comfort

frank doesn't talk a whole lot, but when he speaks, it's from the heart

he doesn't do grand outrageous gestures to show you he loves you but it is obvious in all the little things he does bc I genuinely believe his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he's SO proud to be your husband like anytime you introduce him to anyone or mention "my husband this" or "my husband that" he's got the biggest grin on his face

to say he would die for you is such a huge understatement, francis david castiglione would wage war on god herself for you

bottom line is husband!frank is a huge sap and even if he acts grumpy that you want to paint the kitchen pink or your car broke down bc you forgot to tell him you needed your oil changed (it happens to the best of us) he is so madly in love with you that you could do no wrong in his eyes

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Ok so it literally took me less than 1 full episode of The Punisher in order to understand Frank's appeal, so I'll be needing fic recs! What y'all got for me, Frankophiles?

[varilien]

(character uses they/it) i keep wanting to start posting my ocs over here again and then Just Not Doing It so uhhhh !!! some stuff from february, had a dream about knives that made me think of a plant oc with a constant power output so extreme that it generates a deadly radiation field around them. because of that they've been living alone this whole time, avoiding contact with other living things, and over the years they've learned how to suppress that output for short spans of time or "safely" pour out the excess in order to be safe to be around, though they ultimately prefer their solitude due to a history of bad experiences with humans. they're very blunt, spiteful, and curious

@whatever-you-can-give-me suggested lr would make good friends for them since they are 🤝 about being extremely hard to hurt lol

also! wrote like 2k about they and razlo's first meeting below the cut if anyone's interested in some good ol violence + gore :3

that was a fr content warning btw read at ur own discretion:

Chance encounters with violent strangers out in the open desert are nothing new to LR, even when Livio purposefully had tried to find the quietest possible route to travel.  It’s not even necessarily surprising to run into someone a little to the left of human, someone a bit bigger or stronger or more durable than they really have any right to be.  The Eye aren’t the only ones designing freaks on this planet, that much is obvious, evidenced sufficiently by the odder fights LR have ever gotten in.  

And this one is shaping up to be one of their oddest fights yet.

Livio hadn’t seen the fucker coming, occupied as he was with the slow realization of why this stretch of road doesn’t see much use anymore: a creeping heat across his nerve endings unrelated to the overcast, evening suns, the taste of metal in his mouth, and a deep-rooted nausea twisting up his guts.  Radiation sickness.  He’s dealt with it before, and as unpleasant as it is, it’s hardly enough to slow him down too bad.  

It’s damn distracting, though.  A good enough excuse for not noticing them hiding up along the rockface above his head.  Not a good enough excuse to keep Razlo from tagging in, especially after something’s pierced straight through the back of his neck, nearly taking his head clean off.  

Razlo rolls for cover with a strangled sound, blood gushing from his forced-out throat and foaming at his lips.  Even with his senses jarred and his vision blurred, it'd take more than a near-decapitation for his instincts to be overridden.  He's slinging out a Punisher before he even knows what he's up against.  

There's a blur of motion to his right as soon as his sights are raised.  They're probably surprised Razlo's still standing, but so was everyone else who's gotten a lucky shot at him.

He can track their motion by sound alone.  They're sloppy.  Feet hitting the cracked earth in hard thumps, every one a warning that Razlo can aim a spray of bullets at.  And by now Razlo's healed enough to notice and wonder why the hell his head is still so fucked up.

At least now he can mostly see them when he turns, hanging back a ways, out of Razlo's reach.  Shorter than him by a head and a half, covered toe to tip in layers of sun-bleached rags, save for their face.  That's hidden behind a tall, curved mask, shaped in a way that looks an awful lot like a tomas' crest, with the false eye markings to match.  Even the glass for the lenses is opaque.  The only part of them that’s exposed is their left hand, extended delicately aside to keep Razlo’s blood dripping off it from getting on their clothes.

Razlo physically tries to shake out the buzzing in his skull that only gets worse by the second, only to notice the foul smell of burning meat and risk an instinctive glance down at his arm, where his flesh has started to bubble and steam seemingly on its own.  He looks between his arm and his opponent, the way their body tenses and head begins to tip, shaking hard, simultaneous with his skin boiling that much more fiercely.  

Something clicks in his brain.  There’s no way.

And no time to find out.  This time when they dart in he’s expecting it; he takes a swing at their head, and they dodge right into his follow-through, slamming his Punisher into their skull with a crunch and a wet sound from their throat.  They drop, like he’d expect them to, like anyone would.  And like no one does, they just roll out of the way and onto their back, braced to spring back up again.  Razlo puts his boot through their ribcage before they get the chance to.  That should be the end of it, too, but the fucker just keeps kicking, trying to get away, the only sound they make being the gurgle of their lungs filling with blood, and they keep kicking.

At this point Razlo doesn’t even have a plan anymore.  Needless to say, he doesn’t go up against an awful lot of guys who match him in the department of being a pain in the ass to take down.  Razlo's just starting to come up with a new idea when those long arms swing up, claws digging into and making ribbons of his right leg.

Razlo curses and tries to pull away, which only makes them hold on even tighter.  He's staring that four-eyed glare down when that burning feeling across his whole body raises in pitch again, and it's the sight of his flesh starting to disintegrate around their fingers that finally makes him back off.

Razlo rather gracelessly falls on his ass in trying to take a step back, not expecting his right leg to simply break off halfway down his thigh.  He scrambles back a ways, ready to keep going, missing limb or no, but— they aren't following him.  They're collapsed in the sand, limbs akimbo as they fight to draw a full breath.  Razlo watches with morbid curiosity as his severed leg dissolves into nothing more than an off-colored patch of sand beside them.

All that angry tension has gone out of their body, leaving them limp and motionless except for the stutter of their chest, and Razlo can hear the damp gasps muffled behind their mask.  By all rights, it should look like more of a struggle.  They should be dead, really, but from where Razlo is sitting, it looks a lot more like they’re just taking a rest.  He feels more sure of that when they roll their shoulders back a bit, arms braced in the dirt as they delicately arch their spine.  There’s some sharp popping sounds, and a little exhale from them; setting their ribs, Razlo figures.  He’s had to do the same thing before.  Once they can move their arms more effectively, they start to gather themself up into a seated position, bones and joints still crackling like popcorn here and there as they go, til they’re all the way up, with their hands resting in their lap, looking far too fucking comfortable for the fight they’d just had.

"You're not dead."

Their voice startles Razlo despite being as soft as it is, and his gaze flicks up to that mask, just slightly tilted to the side, orange lenses glinting in the harsh sunlight.  They don't move at all that Razlo can see.  Even their breathing has evened out enough to have become imperceptible under their heavy shroud; if they're in any pain still, Razlo sure can't tell.

"Nope," is all he says, or can manage to say.

He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard a couple times to scrunch up his face in the hopes his nerves might start feeling right again soon.

Another wave of nausea hits him, but his stomach was empty before the fight even started, so he leans forward to put his head between his knees and dry heave for a while.

The whole time, he's aware of his little opponent continuing to sit in silence, watching and eerily unmoving, even when Razlo manages to sit up again and wipe his mouth with his wrist.

"The fuck's yer deal, anyways?"  Razlo asks.

"'Deal'...?"  They echo.

"Couldn't exactly kill you, either."

He wasn't expecting them to spill their life story or something, but he was thinking he'd get something more of a response than their head tilting back the opposite way.  There's not a lot to work with here in trying to get a read on them, but Razlo feels it's safe to hazard they're probably just pretty damn confused, the same as him.

"You kinda smell like a Plant.  M'not an expert, but I've met two others."

Now that gets something out of them.  A tiny wiggle of their head that makes the pieces in their mask rattle.

"I wouldn't know.  I've only met me."

“Huh.”  

Whether it’s a confirmation or rebuttal hardly matters at this point.  He’s feeling sure enough that his assumption was correct, now, anyways.

"You, uh…"  Razlo has to pause for breath.  Unlike the thing across from him, he's having a hell of a time getting his back.  "You're the one making this radiation field?"

"Yes."

"Any way you could turn it down?"

They say nothing, though Razlo feels suddenly that he's being studied very intently.  And shortly after, slowly, slowly the fire in his cells begins to go out, and he can spit the worst of the sourness off his tongue.  Eventually he can't feel any radiation left at all, though his body's had a rough enough time from the dose he got, he'll be getting the sickness out of his system for a while yet.

Regardless, Razlo’s fingers twitch against the triggers when he hears that mask rattle again, and his eyes are on it in an instant.

"You didn't answer my first question," Razlo reminds, cautiously.

More silence, for a while.

"You wanted to hurt me."

There's no malice in the statement, at least that Razlo can tell.  Just the simple facts.  Still, he narrows his eyes.

"You started it.  Figured it was mutual."

"That's true."

Razlo grins.

"So, what now?  Regrow my leg, and get back to not killing each other?"

"If you'd like to."

That gets a laugh out of him.

"Nah, I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It is.”

That much is obvious.  They stay put, seeming transfixed on watching Razlo’s leg grow back, only a little more slowly than any of his other injuries, now that he doesn’t have the radiation to slow him down.  It leaves him feeling itchy and achy all over, and he’s got a bad hunch that right ankle doesn’t have the best chances of coming back right.  Once there’s enough of it to fuss about, he gets his foot in his hands and starts experimentally rolling it on its hinge, checking that the range of motion is right.

And still, those orange lenses glint at him curiously.  They don’t flinch or look away when Razlo considers them in return; he guesses they don’t know it’s not polite to stare.

“What's yer name?"  Razlo asks.

"My name?"

"Don't tell me you ain't got one."

The silence that follows is pretty self-explanatory.

“I’m Razlo.”

He can just make out the sound of them mumbling his name under their breath, like they’re not sure how it’s going to come out.  Almost warmly, almost shyly, they manage to say: “hello, Razlo.”

[amhrosina]

Frank With An Inexperienced Reader

a/n: the request was for frank AND matt, but i haven't written matt's headcanons yet, so here's frankie-poo's for now

warnings: virgin!reader becoming notvirgin!reader lmfao, age gap, smut obviously, frank talks you through it, oral (fem receiving), fingering, the usual smut stuff, etc.

Frank would be hesitant at first when you ask him to take your virginity. You’ve done other stuff with him, but you’ve never gone all the way, and he’s nervous about taking that away from you.

Like you’re so much younger than him, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you, but holy shit you’re so pretty and he can’t deny you anything so he just takes it really slow instead and gives you the power to choose when/where it happens.

You’re just as nervous as he is about it but for different reasons obviously. He’s so experienced and you’re the exact opposite and you spend at least a week freaking out about it before finally giving in and showing up at his apartment to be properly fucked.

When I say he takes it slow, I mean he takes it S L O W.

You’re trying to unbuckle his belt but you’re so nervous that you’re visibly shaking, so he gently takes your hands in his and kisses your fingertips and tells you to slow down for a second.

“Let me do this for you, okay? I’ll take good care of you.”

You tell him that you’re nervous because you want it to be good for him but you don’t know how to make it good for him.

He smirks and shakes his head. “You don’t gotta worry about me, sweets. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You’ll be perfect.”

He begins pressing unhurried kisses to your lips and jaw, gingerly making his way to your neck. You’re already so turned on that you can feel the slickness of your arousal between your legs. 

He moves at an achingly slow pace, pulling your clothing off piece by piece, leaving kisses in the wake of his removal, until you’re standing in front of him in your underwear. 

He presses sultry kisses to your nipples, softly flicking the nubs with his tongue because he knows you love it when he does that.

“Can I pull these off?” His fingers are resting on your hip bones underneath the fabric of your underwear. You nod your head eagerly because it’s Frank and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being this gentle with you.

When he lays you on the bed, spread bare for him, you’re still a little nervous. (He’s so big and you can see why people are afraid of him when he’s in Punisher mode but also like, he’s so dreamy).

Also if we’re basing Frank’s length off of the rumors about Bernthal’s, ummmm let’s just say the man’s very well endowed. This makes you even more nervous because WOW.

“We can stop at any time, okay? Just say the word and I’ll stop. I won’t get mad. I promise.”

You try not to groan at how incredibly sexy he looks reassuring you.

Frank knows it’s going to hurt, but he still wants to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for you, so he does everything in his power to make sure you’re nice and ready for him.

“Can I taste you, baby?”

When he buries his tongue in your folds, you quite literally can’t hold yourself together. You fall apart on his tongue not once, but twice before he finally relents and begins pumping a finger in and out of you.

You’re so wet that it easily slides in and out, and when he adds another digit, and another, you’re coming apart around him again. 

When it’s finally time for him to push into you, you’re so blissed out in pleasure that your nervousness has subsided, but he’s still gentle and cautious.

You tense up almost immediately because it hurts, and he almost pulls out because he never wants to see that look on your face again (especially not because of him!)

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Just breathe, okay? It’ll feel good soon.”

Frank refuses to move until you give him a slight nod, hovering over you and kissing the tension out of your clenched features. 

When the pain finally subsides and you ask him to move, he’s really really gentle with his thrusts even though he’s dying to pound into you.

He praises you the entire time.

“You’re so wet, baby.” “You look so good like this.” “You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” “Fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”

He’s always been an observant man, but watching you moan, writh, and arch into him is something he’d like to observe for the rest of his life (if you’ll let him)

When you come apart around him, you unintentionally clench around him and it takes everything in him to hold himself together.

When you ask him to fill you up, his thrusts stutter out of pure shock. 

“Naughty girl. Who taught you that?”

You’re grinning up at him, blinking your perfect doe eyes, and he can’t tell if it's the hormones or the fact that he’s buried deep inside you, but he thinks he might have just fallen deeper in love with you.

You hold him close to you as he fills you up, and when he collapses next to you, you’re both blissed out and sweaty and in love and you feel warm and fuzzy about it all.

“Are you okay?” He’s concerned that he may have hurt you.

“Let’s do that again!” You’re not hurt in the slightest (lol).

Cue both of you giggling like teenagers.

Obviously Frank is an aftercare king so after he cleans you up, he runs his fingers over your skin in a soothing pattern.

When you ask if it was good for him, he’s quick to reassure you.

“It was perfect, baby. You’re perfect.”

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[sigmahimejoshi]

Punishment where your dom puts a vibrator on the low setting on your clit. You're grinding against it, begging for your dom to turn it up higher, but they just lean down to whisper "Stop being a greedy slut" and laugh when you cum from their degrading words "Did you really get off at me calling you a slut? How fucking pathetic"

[valiantphantomangel]

The Party

You slowly opened your bedroom door, cringing as it made a low creaking sound, you looked around to see if anyone would come out of their room and sighed in relief when that wasn't the case.

Shoes and bag in your hand as you sneaked through the halls in your best clothes, hair up and light make up on, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible.

The ding of the elevator alerted you that someone was coming and you quickly ducked behind a corner, hoping that it was someone who wouldn't recognize you.

But low and behold, there stepped out of the elevator the three people you didn't want to see the most, The God Of mischief, The Winter Soldier and Captain America. Aka the three people who would never let you go to a party like the overprotective guys they were.

"Are you sure she's here?" Bucky asked as he looked around the hall.

"Yeah, Stark said he saw her on the camera's looking all dressed up" Steve answered as he put his hands on his hips.

You slowly started to sneak out, trying to remain as quiet as possible as you tip toe into the opposite direction.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you Y/N?" Loki chuckled as he turned around to face you.

Your eyes widen as you come to a hold, turning around to see them looking at you.

"Go back to bed and you'll only get a lecture" Steve suggested.

"Never" you grinned before sprinting away.

You heard the thundering of footsteps behind you as you ran like your social life depends on it, luckily you also had a gift and that was a mutated super soldier serum that you got as a child, the team was aware of it but never tested it to its full ability.

"God damnit she's fast"! Bucky exclaimed behind you as he nearly ran into Steve who shouted "Language"!! at him.

Your 'ahhhhhhh' echoed through the halls, stopping for a second and then continuing loudly, making it almost look like a chase scene from a Disney movie.

You quickly rounded a corner before running straight into a brick wall, well it felt like a brick wall but was instead Loki waiting there for you.

He immediately trapped you a bear hug before throwing you over his shoulder "Hey put me down!!" You yelled with a laugh as you punched his back.

"Now now darling no need to be so aggressive" Loki smirked as he carried you back to the other two who were waiting there with wicked grins on their face.

"You are in big trouble young lady" Steve chuckled as Loki carried you to the couch and threw you on to it gently, immediately straddling your waist with a mischief smirk on his face.

"Wipe that stupid smirk off of your face" You said accusingly as you squirmed underneath him.

"How about no?" He grinned before tasering your sides and blowing a raspberry on your neck.

You let out a squeak before laughing your head off, suddenly feeling a pair of fingers scribbling on the soles of your feet.

"God Damnit AHHHHAHAHAHHA" you screamed with laughter as you wiggle around now also feeling someone squeezing your knees.

"Steve she said a bad language word" Bucky said with a faux gasp as he continued to trace your soles.

"I'm never going to escape that" Steve muttered before laughing and squeezing your thighs.

It was God Damm torture, Loki obviously knew what he was doing as he expertly digged into your ribs.

"I'm actually quite hungry" he said with a grin before leaning down and blowing a good raspberry on your tummy right next to your belly button.

"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you screamed in hysterical laughter as you trashed around.

"Have you learned your lesson doll?" Bucky asked as he wiggled his fingers on your toes.

"YESHAHAHAH"!!!!

"And what is it?"

"DONT SNEAK OUTHIHIHIHI" you laughed breathless as your face turned a little red.

Loki chuckled fondly and let up, same for the other two and helped you sit up as the remaining giggles left your lips.

"You know you are absolutely beautiful and adorable right darling" Loki said with a smile as he pulled you to his chest with Steve and Bucky sitting nearby with fond smiles.

You just nodded with a blush as he kissed your forehead "Now how about a movie night and when there is a party anytime soon you'll tell and you can go?" He suggested.

"Really?" You jumped up excited and Loki nodded.

"thank you thank you thank you" you giggled as you gave all of them a hug before running off to your room to change into comfortable clothes and spent the rest of the night eating snacks, watching movies and joking around with Loki, Steve and Bucky.

Honestly it was better then any party could be.