#punisher

[sobbingscripter]

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋💙་༘Neighbours˚˖𓍢ִ💙.ִ࿐

Tags: [frank castle][mdni][mlw][just porn, no plot][literally a tester][something I'm typing while waiting for my food][lil drabble][analingus][squirting][doggy style][mating press][side fuck][there's a few other things he does that I don't know how to word]

A test drabble requested by @lucky-beheaded and @v1tale

Something, something about being Frank Castle's little personal nurse.

You're his neighbour, sharing the shitty little apartment building with the broken windows and the rusted burglar bars, peeling paint and rattling doorframes.

Obviously he's got a better furnished, and nicer warehouse but he's got quite a bit of business in this area, and Frank's not a man, if he doesn't care for his convenience and his time.

And it's not uncommon that when he's out punishing, he gets a little bruise or two, and comes to you to treat even the smallest little cuts.

Frank refuses to admit that it's because of your company and lies, saying he's trying to avoid the infections.

Frank's only willing to admit he likes your company when you're fucked out on your sofa, legs dangling aimlessly from broad, muscled shoulders, and your fingers limply interlaced behind his neck, manicured fingers snaking into the cropped hair and dragging along his scalp.

Frank's hips snap meanly, his face buried in your neck and hot pants of breath fan across the curve of your shoulder, his chest presses against yours and you can feel that delicious tuft of inky hair brush against your clit so teasingly when his hips grind into yours. You feel that flushed, rotund tip bruise that sweet gummy spot that has your toes curling beside either ear, your eyes rolling back and Frank's teeth scrape against your skin, leaving the faintest of marks because as much as he wants to, he can't fuck you into being his.

You're a classy girl. Good dates, good conversation is necessary instead of the usual grunts and murmured 'fuck you's that leave his lips.

But that doesn't mean he's above trying. In fact, he's so far below trying, that he has his cock bumping against your insides in a way that's as unkind as things can get.

A burly, tornado of a man, deep steely eyes staring into your pretty, half-lidded gaze, watching the way tears brim on your lower lashline, your nails scraping against his back, crossing out the scars left behind from the life he lives.

"Eyes on me, gorgeous."

Frank breathes out, hands shifting and hips slowing to a grinding halt, carved pelvis poking into the slightest chub of his belly, muscular thighs on either side of you and he groans.

The scent of liquor and minty toothpaste lingers on his tongue, but you're more preoccupied with the way the wet muscle licks up the perspiration that dots your skin.

Staring from the valley between your breasts and all the way up to the hollow beneath your ear.

And Frank whispers, like a fucking dream incarnate.

"Let me fuck a baby into you, dollface."

One slow pull back of his hips has you feeling each fucking inch, veins dragging against gummy walls and his hands move to your thigh, moving it to rest alongside it's partner on his other shoulder, before Frank comes closer, pressing the sloppiest and messiest kiss against your lips. Swallowing the gasp you let out when he stretches you out once again, and the thrusts are slow, painfully tantalizing as he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling you closer to meet each of his movements.

But Frank's not a gentle man.

He hasn't been in a long time and you're barely coherent when he begins to fuck into you like a man in heat, blunt nails digging into the cellulite of your thighs, dragging over stretch marks as he tries to palm as much as he can. He's desperate.

An orgasm far too close but it's not enough. It's just not enough.

Hips snap, your asscheeks feel like they're on fire and you nearly gasp when you're tossed onto your stomach, powerful hands hooked at your hips and pulling you back to meet his brutal movements. Frank watches, marvelling at the ripple of plush cheeks bouncing off the carved flesh of his hips, one hand pressing down at the dip in your spine, forcing your arch to deepen and the other moving to rest on one fleshy mound.

Spreading you open, only to spit down at where your furled entrance sits so pretty and undisturbed and Frank groans.

"Put your pretty fingers where the sun don't shine, gorgeous. Wanna see—... You fuck yourself..."

You nod weakly, drool slipping down your kiss swollen lips as one of your hands snake between your thighs and Frank's hips snap particularly harshly, the painful nudge of his thick, mushroom-y tip makes you gasp sharply.

"Not there, dollface." He hums, the hand on your cheek shifting ever so slightly, his calloused thumb brushing over your hole so teasingly. "Here."

You feel the wind leave your lungs, cheeks flushing even deeper and you nod your head so weakly, so shyly.

As you pop off the press-on on your middle finger, wetting your finger before reaching behind you.

Your digit pushes past the resistance, muscle tensed and tight around your finger but you persevere until your second knuckle from the base of your finger. And you're full.

You've never fucked yourself like this.

You've never been fucked like this.

Guess it really takes a man who has jack shit to live for, to make you squirt, soaking the cushions of your couch from the intensity. It's so depraved.

Sensations so fucking vivid that not even your sleep deprived mind could come up with fantasies that are half as amazing as the way Frank fucks you into oblivion.

You don't know how many orgasms you've had, you don't know when you started crying or even drooling but God, you don't wanna stop.

You feel a cool emptiness fill your core when Frank pulls out so abruptly, and you peek at him lazily, bleary eyes watching as he positions himself behind you. And you whine, shoving your face in the armrest as you feel his squirmy, salivating tongue dragging through your folds, all the way up to where your fingers thrust lazily into your ass.

And Frank pushes your hand away, muscular fingers digging into the fleshy mounds and he spreads you open in the most whorish way you could imagine.

And his tongue fucking pushes into you, and your brows furrow, nails clawing at the cushions and you nearly scream when he hikes your knee to rest on the backrest of the sofa.

And you feel like you're some kind of fucking dog, pissing on a hydrant when he fucks three, thick fingers into your weepy and overstimulated cunt.

Frank pants, dark eyes hazy and bleary. And all he's focused on, is making you a puddle of what you once were.

"I'm not fucking stopping." Frank breathes out, his voice a low, husky groan that has your insides twisting and turning.

"Not stopping until you're squirting yourself to dehydration."

[roennq]

[+]

Moments: 10/x Matt goes after Frank Castle ↪ "We weren't hit by any rival family there. I'm telling you, we were… hit by an army."

[mintmuha]

My birthday is coming up so I decided to do something fun. What do you think about DTIYS ("draw this in your style")?

I made a sketch of Punisher from my western!au comic. If you want to participate, you need to draw this picture in your style. You can change the background and some details, but the general appearance of the character must be preserved. If you want, you can also draw the classic skull on Frank's clothes, not on his hands.

You can post your drawings on any social media, but please don’t forget to send me the link! On March 14, I will post all the drawings with links to their authors here and on VK.

Have fun!

[christianbalesasshole]

keeping normal civilian matt murdock safe

[thesuperheroesnetwork]

Texts From Superheroes

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[artbyellie]

I Know the End / Phoebe Bridgers

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[otherwindow]

Punisher pecs

[frownyalfred]

Sometimes I see people illustrate the Jason-Bruce difference in ideology by quoting Punisher (“You hit them and they go down. I hit them and they stay down.”) and trying to show that killing prevents criminals from getting back up and causing issues again. However….Batman is putting these guys down hard. Like hospital, multiple broken bones hard.

Punisher was saying that line to Daredevil and I’m pretty sure in that same episode there’s a scene where bad guys keep rolling into the ER screaming with pain talking about how they’re never doing this shit again.

Batman absolutely puts people in the hospital badly enough they quit working for Black Mask or the Penguin or whoever. He hits them hard enough, as I once said, to defy any and all future attempts at physical therapy. He breaks arms and legs in ways people will never fully recover from. And you’re telling me that’s not a deterrent in any way???

[wolvietxt]

𝓟ATCHWORK.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : injury, crying, non-sexual nudity, angst, size diff, hurt/comfort, teasing, fluff, happy ending summary : you take care of your boyfriend frank after he shows up at your door, bloody and bruised wc : 1.2k a/n : um hello punisher fandom i’m only on season one i’m so sorry #fakefan😥

the knock at your door came just after midnight, faint but insistent. you had a sinking feeling even before you opened it, knowing who it would be. frank always showed up like this - silent and battered, like a ghost returning to haunt your quiet life. except you really did love this ghost. but tonight was worse. the moment you saw him leaning heavily against the frame, his face pale under streaks of blood, your breath hitched.

“frank,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “oh my god, what happened?”

he grunted in response, brushing off your concern with a slight shake of his head. “‘s not as bad as it looks,” he muttered, but the way he swayed on his feet told a different story. instinctively, you reached out, your much smaller hands pressing against his chest to steady him. he was so solid, so big, but he felt fragile in this moment, like he might collapse if you let go.

“come inside,” you said, your voice wavering as you pulled him in. he barely made it two steps before you had to slip under his arm, guiding him toward the bathroom. “you shouldn’t even be walking. why didn’t you call me?”

“didn’t wanna… bother you,” he rasped, wincing as you helped him sit on the closed toilet lid. his broad shoulders hunched forward, and he sucked in a sharp breath when you knelt in front of him, slowly nestling in between his legs.

“bother me?” your voice cracked, tears already pricking at your eyes. “frank, you’re bleeding all over my bathroom. how could you think…” you trailed off, shaking your head as you reached for the first aid kit under the sink.

his lips twitched, a ghost of a smile despite the situation. “baby, you’re cryin’ already,” he murmured, his tone soft, almost teasing. “i’m the one all cut up, and you’re the one fallin’ apart.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand before focusing on the deep gash along his side. “it’s not funny.”

“maybe a little funny,” he said, but his voice was gentler now, his dark eyes watching you with something like affection. the size of him made you feel even smaller as you worked, your hands trembling as you cleaned the wound. “you don’t gotta do this, y’know.”

“stop saying that,” you mumbled, dabbing at the cut with antiseptic, trying to focus on stopping the bleeding rather than frank’s cooing at your sniffles. “you’re always saying that, like i’m not here because i want to be. you think i’d let just anyone bleed all over my floor?”

his chuckle was low, rumbling in his chest. “guess not.”

once the wound was cleaned and stitched, you leaned back on your heels, letting out a shaky breath. “all done. but you need to get cleaned up. you’re covered in…” you gestured vaguely at him, your lips quivering as you tried not to cry again.

“hey,” he said softly, his massive hand reaching out to cup your cheek, another of his little scoffs threatening to slip. he was trying to be as serious as possible for you, not wanting you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously, especially after putting you through so much. his thumb brushed away a stray tear, and the contrast of his rough skin against your softness made your heart ache. “don’t cry, sweetheart. it’s okay. i’m okay.”

“you’re not okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. your train of thought stopped abruptly when you noticed the corners of his lips slightly turning up. “frank! stop smiling. just let me help, okay?” you whined, lifting your head away from his hands.

“okay, sweetheart,” he didn’t argue, too tired to fight you on it. you stood and turned to the tub, starting the water and letting it run warm. the quiet sound of it filled the room, grounding you as you grabbed a clean towel and set it aside. when you turned back to him, he was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“come on,” you said, helping him to his feet. he towered over you, his sheer size making the act of guiding him to the tub feel almost absurd. but he let you, his movements slow and careful as he sank down onto the edge. his knees jutted up from the small space, his frame too large for the confines of your tiny bathroom.

“stay there,” you murmured, kneeling again to untie his boots and tug them off. your fingers worked quickly, but you were hyper-aware of his gaze, the weight of his attention making your cheeks flush.

once he was down to his boxers, you helped him ease into the water, your hands fluttering nervously as if you might break him. he let out a low sigh as the warm water enveloped him, his head tipping back against the edge of the tub.

“better?” you asked, perching on the side of the tub.

he hummed in response, his eyes slipping shut. after a moment, his head tipped forward, resting against your thigh. the vulnerability of the gesture stole your breath, and your hand hesitated mid-air before you rested it gently on his damp hair.

“you’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“stop saying that,” you replied softly, your fingers threading through his hair. “you deserve someone to take care of you, frank. you deserve…” your voice caught, the words sticking in your throat.

he tilted his head slightly, looking up at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “you’re cryin’ again.”

“shut up,” you sniffled, swiping at your cheeks. “it’s your fault. you’re so… stubborn.”

his laugh was soft, barely more than a huff of air, but it made your chest ache. “didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.”

you shook your head, your hand still brushing through his hair. “you didn’t. i just… i hate seeing you like this. you act like you don’t matter, but you do. you matter to me.”

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, his dark eyes searching yours. then, slowly, he lifted a hand out of the water, his fingers brushing against your knee. it was such a small, tender gesture, but it spoke volumes.

“you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, the water growing cooler as his breathing slowed, the exhaustion finally taking hold. you didn’t move, didn’t dare disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the room. he looked so different like this, his usual hard edges softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

as his head grew heavier against your thigh, you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “get some rest,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’ve got you, frank. i’ve got you.”

and for the first time, he didn’t argue.

taglist form in pinned post, just added frank castle ><

[ruiviart]

A sleepy vigilante

[thirstybitchs]

…. Do I even need to say their names?

[flipjack]

My babies!!!!

[animegirlmattmurdock]

first post on here. take a fratt fanart. platonically manhandling your male rival #nohomo

[christianbalesasshole]

i think we’re gonna have to kill this guy jeff

[thesuperheroesnetwork]

Texts From Superheroes

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