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#the punisher
lucy-sky · 2 days ago
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Make me choose: Frank Castle or Shang-Chi (requested by anon)
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Never Quite Enough//2
Read part 1 here
Billy Russo x Female Reader
Warnings: angst, harassment, mentions of sexual situations, violence and blood as well.
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He wasn't expecting you to look this put together.
It was as if nothing had ever happened between you at all. The thought had speared into his heart and gutted him like a fish.
A week had passed, you'd feigned sickness. Billy had agonised himself the entire week, only truly focused on firing Andrew and Walter and the two others who had roped him into the bet and sold him out in front of you. It didn't change a thing. You still wouldn't answer his calls, you still wouldn't hear him out.
Billy was truly, inexplicably, the worst human to ever walk the planet.
He almost crumbled to his knees when he stepped into the conference room the following Monday and saw you busy reading over something written on a while legal pad. You were a temporary replacement for your boss who couldn't make it at the last minute. Your hair was put together, the cut of your eyeliner sharp, daring him to speak to you.
You'd looked up, met his eyes, and then back to the note pad. No expression. No recognition in your cold eyes.
He should crumble anyway.
When you'd addressed him as 'Mister Russo,' when the meeting had concluded and you'd prepared your things to leave, he wanted to scream.
How could he know what his name sounded like, rushing past your lips on a mindblowing orgasm, and still be sane after?
He'd could still hear it now, his name on your lips after rough, sweet sex, your hands in his hair and his mouth latched to the spot above your breast and all he can hear is 'BillyBillyBillyBilly.'
But now, he had become 'Mister Russo,' once again.
.
At least you knew what everyone thought of you now. At least you didn't have to make excuses for someone when they spoke over you, or completely extracted you from every plan.
At least you knew that no one really minded when you smiled, backed away, and returned to your desk to sit alone.
It was easier to extricate yourself... until it wasn't.
Your boss had put you in charge of the new trainee, Dex, who'd just finished college and ached to go to every after-work mixer possible.
He'd pleaded with you to come along, needed the introductions, and you'd sighed and obliged him.
Dex was extroverted, smiled a lot, shy but he could light up a room. Everyone was drawn to him, happy to get to know him.
You just stood by his side, smiled, introduced him to whoever he asked.
The music in the bar was low to encourage conversation, but loud enough to enjoy too. Every now and then, Dex would glance at you and smile, and you'd be forced to smile back.
You couldn't let your eyes wander. You didn't want to catch sight of...him. You wonder what new thing he'd decided to bet on, maybe another woman.
The thought sobers you. You look around the room. There was no way you'd let him do this to someone else-
Billy's eyes are already locked on you.
Shit.... shit! You look down at your shoes.
Well, he didn't look like he was talking to anyone anyway, but you decide to keep a distant eye on him, a little weary that he'd try to do this to someone else.
Though, it wasn't like anyone else was as difficult to be around as you were.
You sigh.
.
Billy can see it.
In the way you limit your interactions, in the way you hardly smile. You look down at your shoes so much and he has to find a way to accept that this... this is what he's done to you.
He can't figure out how to fix it, should he just apologise? Or find a way to include you in more activities so that people can see the real you? You probably hated him so much now.
He sighs, taking a slow sip of his beer, chipping in to the casual conversation of the people around him and he uses it as a way to keep his eyes on you.
He'd really taken your advice- seen a therapist- he hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell Frank what he'd done. His therapist had advised him to work on himself, and not be so focused on chasing you and getting you back. Billy was told to accept the possibility that he may never get you back.
He was going to fire his new therapist.
The want he had for you was so visceral. He wanted to take your hands in his and drop to his knees and beg and beg and beg even though he'd barely knew you. The thought embarrassed him, made him ashamed, made him hate himself.
And still, his mind wouldn't rid him of the thoughts, of your laughter, your soft skin, the taste of your lips. It was like you were everywhere around him, everywhere he looked, all he saw was you. Your influence on him had ruined the very way he saw the world and now he was tainted by your touch.
He watches your eyes fixed to your beer, smiling along to the conversation and not really involving yourself. His chest aches. Every scenario he imagines to find a way to talk to you fails.
.
You bump into him on your way out of the bathroom.
You're not watching where you're going, just trying to think of an excuse to get out of here when you smack right into him.
You don't have to look up at his face. The scent alone sets familiarity into your bones and you know it's him by the grip of his hands on your shoulders and the shine of his shoes.
"Sorry." You say quickly, pulling out of his grip to step to the side. He moves with you, and you sigh, staying in place when he moves again to get out of your way.
"Don't apologise to me," He says softly, voice barely abovea whisper, "I don't deserve it."
You nod, turning away, pausing when he says your name, your eyes fall shut at the sound.
"I never- none of it- you're not-" he lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his fist. You think you should just put him out of his misery and walk away.
"You mean a lot to me." He finally blurts when you take a step away from him. You blink down at the floor.
"I can't stop thinking about you." He finishes.
You finally look up into his eyes, and you watch his breath catch in his throat.
"You really are a good actor," you muse to yourself, "If I didn't know any better I'd think it were true."
"It is. It is-"
The shake of your head stops him from speaking, a wry, upward tilt of your lips
"I know better now. It won't work on me." You say, walking away.
.
Maybe he was getting triple to get you back? You ponder, staring into the amber liquid of your beer. Maybe he was making double or nothing if he managed to lure you back into his arms. A little game of how low were your standards? Or how good at manipulation was Billy?
Regardless, it wouldn't work, because you couldn't really feel anything anymore. There was no love or hate or anger inside of you. There was... nothing, and you'd hoped Billy could see it in your eyes when you looked at him.
.
It was worse than dying. To have you look at him with empty eyes. The stabbing feeling in his chest wouldn't go away. Did you really not feel anything for him anymore? He remembers only a week ago when your eyes had been warm with the aftereffects of your orgasm. You'd smiled at him as you came down from your high, kissing him in the heat of the moment, he could still taste you on his tongue.
But when you'd looked at him just now. It was like you didn't even know him.
He rubs at his chest, deep in thought, only blinking up when someone asks him his opinion.
.
Dex won't stop flirting with you. You don't know how to tell him you're not interested. He smiles and he bumps his shoulder against yours and you return his smile with a smaller one of your own but you know he's not going to give up.
So, in your desperation, when he asks if you have any pets, you respond easily with, "Not me, but my boyfriend has a cat named Butter."
You see it, the flinch of his eyebrow as he processes your words.
"Oh? You have a boyfriend?" He asks casually.
You slam your brain trying to remember any details you have about Butter's owner."
"Yeah. Matt, he's a- a lawyer." You say, smiling.
Oh, but this actually opens up a lot of doors for you, because while Dex pulls back on his flirting, you get to glance at your phone, with a smile.
"Speaking of, Matt's working late tonight so I'll have to leave soon to feed Butter." You grin, feeling like you've accomplished the impossible by creating a fake boyfriend.
You slip off your seat, rising to a stand.
"I'll see you on Monday, yeah? Have fun." You wave goodbye.
Dex doesn't protest and you grin the entire way out.
Until the cold air of the night hits you and you realise that you just made up a fake relationship, because you're not good enough to have a real one.
You sigh.
.
Regardless, your imaginary boyfriend Matt means you get to shy away from all types of flirting with absolutely zero consequences. It's a little disgusting that some men need to know you're taken in order to back off, but you're not out here trying to change every random man that can't take no for an answer, you're only just trying to survive.
But one day it's not enough, and a client persists on his advances, commenting on the fact that he doesn't see a ring.
So, you go shopping for one.
And you gladly sport the antique ring on your left hand, and things aren't too bad, because you can exist in your shell without friends and without company and with an occasional intruding cat coming around.
And for a brief moment, it's not so bad.
That is, until you bump into Frank Castle in the elevator.
You smile politely, but you can tell Frank is intent on conversation. You make short responses, about some of your sales, and some upcoming deliveries, and then he notices the ring.
You don’t even realise he's seen it. When he goes quiet, you think it's hopefully because he gets the message that you're not interested in talking.
"Did Billy get you that?" Frank asks, eyebrows furrowed, nodding in the direction of the ring.
You know Frank is usually managing other branches in other cities, but you didn't know he was this out of the loop.
"I- you- Billy didn't tell you?" You ask.
Frank raises his eyebrows curiously.
"We- he- I broke up with him." You say quietly.
The elevator opens and you smile stepping out.
"Can I ask why?" Frank's quiet voice follows in step beside you.
Like a deer caught in headlights, you look up at him in shock and surprise.
You're surprised to know he didn't know, but you take a sick satisfaction in telling him. You give Frank every detail you know, watching his face move from astonishment to anger, and you realise that Frank Castle is too good of a man to be associated with Billy.
He's able to calm his anger for a moment.
"Are you okay?" He asks.
You look down at your feet. You can't meet his eyes.
"Yeah I'm fine." You murmur in a light, casual voice, "but I have to get home, so I'll see you around, yeah?"
Frank doesn't leave before taking you into his arms.
The sensation almost breaks you.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a weak smile as you turn to leave.
.
When Frank swings on Billy, he aims right for the mouth.
He doesn't stop, but Billy is too quick, and when he swings again, his fist only brushes the side of his head.
"What the fuck, Frank!" Billy shouts, backing away, pressed against his desk, one hand pressed to his mouth where his lips is split and bleeding.
Frank though, is calm, he had time on the elevator ride up to figure out what he was going to say.
"She was probably the best thing to ever happen to a little shit like you." Frank spits.
Billy's eyes widen in realisation. There's a long moment of silence, before Frank can see the pain shine in Billy's eyes.
"I know she was." Billy agrees, dropping his hand from his mouth, letting the blood flow.
"I've never seen someone make you that happy. Hell, Bill, I didn't even know you could get that happy."
Billy's shoulders drop.
"I didn't know how amazing she was, I took the bet, and when I realised... I was planning on staying with her, but..."
"But she found out." Frank finishes for Billy, watching the man nod, blood dripping down his chin.
"I want her back, Frankie." Billy says in such a small voice that Frank can almost blink and see a little boy and not a seasoned soldier.
Frank takes a few steps, and Billy looks at him wearily as he approaches, his eyes are watery, and unsure, but Billy doesn't move, accepting of any punishment Frank wants to dole out.
Instead, Frank wraps his arms around Billy, and he feels Billy let out a broken sob.
"I'm the worst fucking person." Billy says into Frank's shoulder.
"You're not, Bill. You just made a mistake, a bad one. You're not a bad person because of it." Frank says. Billy continues to cry.
His tears and blood soak into Frank's shirt, but it's a small price to pay to support his brother.
"Help me get her back... please."
Frank sighs.
"Bill- it might be too late. She- she's wearin' a ring."
Billy pulls away, mouth parted in shock.
"What do you mean she's wearing a ring?"
.
.
.
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marvelswh0re · 2 days ago
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ICED ALL THE WAY. 86 with frank my love. i can’t wait to see what you do bc my mind is all OVER THE PLACE
PROMPT: 'I really want to kiss you right now.'
HELLO OH MY LORD, i am going feral over this one. as i was writing and it was all coming together, i was ready to tear a chunk out of a brick wall with my bare hands and eat it goddamn vhggrtgth thank you so so much for this request! Join us at the cafe!!! Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Warnings: Smut. NSFW. 18+ only! P in V. Unprotected sex. Use of pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, etc.) Swearing. Creampie. This is the Frank vibe I was picturing for this oneshot oh my lordy
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In hindsight, bringing Frank to the family barbecue had been a good idea. But now, as your aunt’s crowded you by the herb garden, demanding details and asking uncomfortably specific questions, you wished you’d stayed home with him instead.
“So, are you thinking about babies yet—” 
“Of course not, they’re not even married—”
“Is he generous, you know, in bed—”
“Okay!” You huffed, smoothing down the front of your dress. “I don’t mean to be rude, but these are very personal questions, and I—”
Frank chose that moment to appear, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered, smiling placidly at your aunts, and the handful of cousins that had arrived to hear the gossip. Leaning into him, you plastered on a faker smile than his.
“If you’ll excuse me, I just need to talk to Frank for a second.” Everyone dispersed immediately, bumping into each other as they went, though a few lingered a little too close for comfort, ears straining for any juicy detail. 
Grabbing his hand, you pulled Frank to the edge of the yard, over by the hydrangea bushes, half tempted to slip out the side gate, get into his van, and go home. 
“I was going mad over there, couldn’t have shown up sooner?” Huffing a laugh, you lifted your gaze to the sky. It was a beautiful day, clear blue and cloudless, sun beaming down upon your skin. Maybe you should’ve chosen a dress with sleeves instead of thin straps, because you were certain you’d be sunburned by the end of the day, but it was too late for that.
“Sorry, sweetheart, your mother wanted some help with the electric knife. It wasn’t working.”
“Oh, so she wanted to snoop, too? She took the batteries out again, didn’t she?”
He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your bare shoulders. “Yes and yes.”
Scoffing, you picked at the hem off your dress, pulling at a few loose threads until Frank’s hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stop it, you look beautiful. Really fucking beautiful.” 
A thrill shot up your spine at the low rasp of his voice, the slight airiness in his tone. He only ever spoke like that when— oh. Glancing up, noting the muscle that flickered in his jaw, you knew what he was thinking about. Your knees trembled, just slightly. 
“I really want to kiss you right now.” He leaned in so that his lips were only inches from your own.
“Yeah, no. I don’t think so,” you muttered, almost choking on a nervous laugh as you stepped away, not wanting to give your family anything to chatter about. They were insufferably nosy enough as it was, you didn’t need them seeing you come undone because of a brush of Frank’s lips alone. They didn’t need to know how easily you’d crumble in his hands. “Nice try, casanova.”
“Nervous, sweet girl?”
“I— no.” Damn him, why’d he have to say stuff like that? Trying to be discreet, you squeezed your thighs together, trying to soothe the sudden ache between your legs, but Frank noticed. Of course he did.
“Come with me.”
“But—”
“Hurry, they’re not looking, let’s go.”
Without a backward glance, you let Frank pull you through the side gate and out into the street. He’d parked his van around the corner because the curb had been full, and was now striding in that direction, keys in hand. 
“Frank, what are we doing?” 
“They want something to talk about? We’ll give the something to fuckin’ talk about.” The lights on his van flashed as he unlocked it, yanking open the passenger side door and sliding the seat back. Climbing in, he patted his thigh. “Up here with me.”
After you’d scrambled into his lap, straddling him, he swung the door shut and locked the van once more.
Frank’s lips were instantly on your neck, sucking and kissing and biting. His hands roamed down your back, over your waist, before slipping beneath your dress and settling on your ass, groping and squeezing, pressing you down onto his erection where it strained against the seam of his jeans. You gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders as you rolled your hips.
“What if someone walks past?” The windows were tinted, so being seen wasn’t a problem, but still…
“I guess you’ll have to be quiet and go slow, then.”
“Okay, okay,” your voice was barely a whisper. With shaking hands, you unzipped his fly and reached into his boxer briefs, pulling his cock out. It was thick and heavy in your hand, already weeping at the tip. Without wasting any precious seconds (it was only a matter of time until someone came looking for the two of you), you quickly tucked your panties to the side and sank down onto him.
“Fuck, so wet for me,” Frank groaned, grip tightening on your ass, pulling you forward and up, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls, before he lowered you back down. Whimpering, you rolled your hips, desperate to feel him deeper. “Come on, baby, please,” you moaned, leaning in to kiss him. Frank’s tongue slipped into your mouth at the same time he bucked his hips, driving himself into that spot that made you stars, and a high-pitched whine slipped from your lips. “So deep, fuck. Right there.”
Another thrust. Another wanton moan. 
Frank slipped two fingers into your mouth, and your teeth grazed against his knuckles. “Come on, pretty girl, you gotta be quiet or we’ll get in trouble.”
From this angle, the way your clit would rub against his crotch with each forward roll of your hips spurred you closer and closer to orgasm. And from the way Frank was groaning through gritted teeth, he wasn’t going to last long either.
“Been wanting to fuck you since you put on this damn dress,” he hissed, planting a firm smack on your ass. “So fucking gorgeous, aren’t you? My good fucking girl, that’s it.”
Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, you came with a fractured cry of his name, thighs quivering, walls fluttering around him. Frank kept thrusting up into you, not caring about going slow anymore. And when he came, too, the warmth of his cum flooded you, dripping out a little onto his jeans.
Panting and spent, you sighed into the side of Frank’s neck. “I don’t want to go back inside. I just want to go home.”
“Sure thing. I can’t go back anyway, not when you’ve made such a pretty mess all over my pants.”
Smiling sheepishly, you climbed out of his lap, moaning as his cock slipped out, leaving you achingly empty.
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ilovemurdockandbarnes · 2 days ago
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Frank, looking at y/n: *Damn, she's so small...I wonder if I would fit or not...*
Y/N, widening her eyes: UUUHM, Frank??
Frank: Yeah?
Y/N turning to face him: You know I can read minds, right?
Frank:
Frank: I- ho-how- how was I supposed to know that?! And- and FYI reading people's mind, whether they're aware of the thing or not, it is COMPLETELY wrong, y'know? I- I- I just can't fuckin' believe-
Y/N, smirking: Why don't we find out together?
Frank: -this. Excuse me??
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Beard - Frank Castle fluff
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Words count: 507
Plot: Frank comes home and you share some moments together
TW: mention of sex and dick, but nothing more - just fluff and cuteness 
A/N: not beat-read, sorry for the typos </3
Comments and reblogs are always appreciated ✨
--
Imagine you’re in the bathtub with Frank. He just came back from a mission and you decided to help get cleaned up and relaxed.
After a pretty good ~love making~session you sit between his legs, with your back pressed against his chest, your head on his shoulder and his hands roaming over your skin tracing every inch of your body.
When you stroke his cheek you notice for the first time (you had been kinda busy before) how long his beard his – and you remember the last conversation you had about it.
“What are you gonna do with this?” you ask leaving a soft kiss on his jaw.
“Thought you liked it,” he replies with a soft smile on his face, playing with your wet hair.
“Thought it made you look like a hipster.”
Frank laughs when you quote one of the first things he told you when you first met. You smile, feeling how his body shakes and relaxes under yours.
“It does, but I’d take it for my little girl.”
You clench your thighs at his words: the effect that man had on you – even with the slightest effort – was inevitable, even and mostly during these moments, both naked, vulnerable, hanging at each other as if it was the last time.
You decide to take the matter in your own hands: you turn around to face and sit on his lap, trying to ignore the feeling of his dick softly rubbing against your core. Frank, on the other hand, does nothing to hide it and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Let me take care of you, uh?” you whisper grabbing the razor blade and the shaving cream you keep between the bottles of shampoo and soap.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Put you head back for me, will you?” you smile when he obeys without even flinching and you leave a little kiss over his adam's apple. “Good boy.”
He tenses up under you. He would probably never admitted but hearing you saying things like that – calling him a good boy, a big boy, your boy – always made him feel a certain way.
Hiding a smile you spread shaving cream on his face, and you start working carefully, gently on the lower half of his face.
“Tell me if I hurt you, okay..?”
“I’m sure you won’t.”
It’s hard not to get distracted, with Frank caressing your legs, your lover belly, or resting his hands on your ass – but when you’re finally finished you look at him and smile: “Done!”
“Do I look good?” he asks with a soft smile, passing a hand over his face.
“Soft as a baby” you peck him on the lips thinking you could get away with it, but Franks wraps his strong harms around you, pulling you in for a deeper, hotter kiss.
Later on, while you make love for the umpteenth time, balancing yourself on his chest as you ride him, melting under his touch and kisses, you finally feel safe and at home again.
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straytheskies · 2 days ago
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frank castle after he finds out billy is working with rawlins
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denim-devil · 13 hours ago
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Frank overstimulating his S/O
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Frank fucked into you with vigour, his hips snapping into the globes of your ass. You held onto the bed posts trying everything in your power to keep yourself steady but he had you dazed and confused.
The pressure in the pit of your stomach grew with each thrust he gave, the bulbous tip of his girth poking the bundle of nerves every. single. time.
Frank used his power to his ability, one of his hands moving from your hip to your hair, pulling you backwards as you yelp, the pain only easing into the pleasure you were receiving.
Your back met with his heaving chest, sweaty and hard. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with the way you were mewling at his neck, practically begging him to slow down, it was to much.
He chuckled breathily at your ear before pausing to pull all the way out to the tip…slowly. His girth dragged against your walls which had you writhing in place.
“Please, Please I can’t. I can’t.”
You moan before Frank nibbles at your jaw, pushing himself all the way back in, your ass swallowing every single inch of him until his balls were pressed firmly against your taint.
Your back still arched into Frank’s front, the position allowing him to access that certain spot inside of you that makes you see stars, the one that threatened to break the coil deep inside of your body.
Everything had slowly built up to this moment, the moment in which Frank’s other free hand wraps itself around your cock, jerking you back and forth in time with his thrusts.
His stubble tickled the side of your cheek, his lips kissing at the spot below your ear. His cock was a little above average, something that had you worried the first time…but now, you were use to it, the feeling of being full, full to the brim, he filled you perfectly which is why you were shaking in his grip.
“Take it”
He spits, before angling his hips differently this time, the tip sliding into your prostate, over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore.
The pace of his thrusts matched with his hand movements eventually caused that coil to break, your cock twitching as you cum.
His shallow breathing had you feeling secure as well as his hands which kept you up right whilst you rode out your blissful high, your head resting against his shoulder, eyes shut, mouth agape.
It had Frank feeling victorious, the sight of you cutting the sex a little shorter, his cock essentially exploding, unloading deep inside of you.
His low grunts had you smiling back at him, his smile lazy as you both kissed, your highs ultimately taking over your body’s, especially your own…it’s never hurt so good before…but Frank was good at what he did.
“Told you”
He whispered before latching his lips onto you, kissing you deep.
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dropsofprecipitation · 7 hours ago
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Gun Devil
Matt Murdock with just a hint of Frank Castle. I've always loved Frank's look, so why not try it out on Matty boy. sits in horny silence
This is just a quick sketch beause I had this intrusive thought and needed it drawn, enjoy.
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iamgettingalife · a day ago
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The Way Things Are
(Part 1)
Pairing: Billy Russo x FemaleOC
Summary: Billy & Cass got close - very close - during a weekend in the woods. But stuff happens, and a year later, a chance meeting throws them together again.
Warnings: None for this one except some cursing. But things are not going to stay that way for long.
A/N: Guess who's back? Back again? Yes, it is Billy and Cass. After a muuuuch longer hiatus than was intended, for which I definitely apologize. The summer is THE WORST, as is my mood during the summer, and writing was not happening like I wanted it to. But I haven't been this excited about a story in a really long time, and I couldn't just leave it at an outline. I really hope you guys like this story as much as The First Taste. Thank you for all of your patience!
Masterlist
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I knew Billy was staring at me. I could feel it on my neck like he had the magnifying glass and I was the bug. Mentally, I cursed Mitchell Ellison, our editor-in-chief, for the thousandth time. There were half a dozen other people on staff at the New York Bulletin that would have jumped at the chance to be able to speak at this event, even with the last-minute notice. That he insisted it be me to take his place as the keynote speaker for one of the most prestigious journalism awards in the city after he came down with pneumonia felt less like a compliment and more like a punishment now, although he couldn’t have possibly known all the factors that would coincide. In my head I thanked the cousin who decided to have an evening wedding last year, leading me to buy the dress I was currently wearing. At the time, having to buy a formal gown had left me grumbling for days, but being able to pull something stunning and perfectly fitted out of my closet had been my saving grace this evening. I smoothed the dark emerald chiffon down over my lap, trying to pay attention to the presenter at the podium, but it was no use. I was being stalked by a confrontation, knowing the moment I let my guard down I was going to get metaphorically slapped in the head, and there was nothing I could do about it.  
Clapping from all around me snapped me out of my distracted state, and I raised my eyes to see colleagues from a table opposite walking to the podium to collect the first award. I joined in the applause, refocusing my attention on the event and away from my personal turmoil. For a few minutes, I listened to the speeches, trying to note the winners that I was familiar with so that I could send personal notes of congratulations later. In a business where favors were currency, little kindnesses could be the fulcrum on which the life or death of a future story pivoted, especially for someone as fairly new on the scene as myself. I clapped especially hard for the Bulletin staff members when their awards were announced, knowing how hard everyone on the team had worked to make our series on Kingpin happen. Being able to prove the crime lord’s organization had been responsible for a series of seemingly unrelated criminal acts that the police had not connected the dots on had meant putting their lives on the line to do what was right, especially when Kingpin had pledged retaliation. These people had gone above and beyond just doing their jobs, and I was proud to be one of them, proud to be doing the work I was doing. 
All too soon, however, the last award was being announced, and I realized that the reception was only minutes away. While the ongoing Kingpin threat meant that I had an excuse not to stay long at the party, a certain amount of socializing was required, to promote the Bulletin and show that we would not be bullied by intimidation tactics. And while I knew that talking with Billy would not be necessary, just knowing that he was going to be in my vicinity – close enough to hear my every word, close enough to touch – was making me feel nauseous. The anger and embarrassment and heartbreak of our last conversation felt fresh and new again, like it had happened minutes before instead of a year ago. You didn’t do anything wrong, I repeated in my head, trying to calm myself. You opened up to someone who didn’t deserve it, but you couldn’t have known that at the time. You know better now, and you can make different choices. I looked around the table at my colleagues, seeing their happy expressions. Focus on all you’ve been able to achieve this past year. Don’t let him ruin your night to celebrate those accomplishments. 
I stood up without a glance backward, knowing that Billy would be shadowing my every move, and started to make my rounds about the room. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop filtering every interaction through Billy’s gaze, analyzing myself. Was I talking too much? Was I laughing louder than usual? Did I normally act this way around my colleagues? Did it look like I was putting up a front? I felt a line of sweat start to form down my spine from the effort of keeping up appearances; suddenly my heels were too high, my dress too tight, the room too stifling. I leaned heavily on a nearby table, one hand gripping the edge. 
“Cass?” Billy’s voice was close over my shoulder, his hand light on my arm. I flinched at his touch, closing my eyes, and he quickly removed his hand. “Are you okay?” 
“I need some air.” My voice sounded hoarse. “Just for a few minutes.”  
I heard his lowered voice speaking into his comm, and then he moved to stand in front of me. “Follow me.” 
We weaved through the crowd in the ballroom and out one of the side doors into a hallway that looked like it might have been some type of service corridor. Billy led me to an elevator whose doors opened as soon as it was called, and I sagged against the wall, closing my eyes once we were inside, only opening them again when I heard the doors reopen. We went through a nondescript hallway in silence, and then Billy opened a steel door, and all of the sudden we were on a rooftop terrace overlooking the city that looked like a park come to life in the middle of steel and concrete. The whole area was filled with shrubs, flowers, and even small trees, walkways dotted with benches winding through the landscaping. I felt my mouth drop open at the view, looking around in wonder as I walked down the gravel path through the beautiful landscaping. I bent to sniff at some dark purple lavender, trying to fill my lungs with the scent to calm my racing thoughts and overworked nerves. After drifting down the path to take in the scope of the garden, I sat on a bench, knowing Billy was waiting for an opportunity to say something, and wanting to be comfortable when he did. After a minute of me sitting quietly, I heard him approach. 
“Cass.” 
“Billy.”  
Some undefinable expression crossed his face briefly. “Could we please talk?” 
I sighed. “What would you like to talk about?” 
He sat down gingerly on the bench next to me. “I want to apologize. For the way things went down after the attack. You were just trying to be there for me, and I treated you very badly. I’m truly sorry.” 
My anger and embarrassment still felt as fresh and raw as the day I walked out of the hospital, but the closeness of his body next to mine on the bench was making old memories of our time together that I had been successfully repressing break free of their restraints to run rampant inside my brain and muddy the waters. The scent of his cologne was in the air, and the warmth of his thigh just millimeters from mine was making my skin itch, no matter how desperately I didn’t want it to. Instinctively, I shifted to the left, as far away as I could get on the bench without just standing up. I shrugged my shoulders lightly. “Apology accepted.” 
Billy looked over at me, his expression wry. “She says, as she cringes and tries not to touch him.” 
I refused to look at him. “I don’t know what reaction you were hoping to see.” 
“Would forgiveness be too much to ask?” 
I had to look at him then. “You were there, Billy. What do you think?” 
ONE YEAR AGO 
I awoke to the sun streaming in the window, slapping me full in the face with heat and light. Squinting away from the glare, I rolled over to bury my face in Billy’s chest…only to find the other side of the bed empty. Blinking sleepily, I raised up on one arm to look around the room. The bathroom was unoccupied, the door opened wide, and the closet was dark and empty. As I slowly became more aware, I realized that all of Billy’s belongings were gone; his packed bags were no longer alongside the door, and there were no personal items on the nightstand next to the bed. The only thing remaining was a piece of paper pushed under the side of the lamp. Picking it up, I saw a note in scrawled handwriting.  
Cass,  
There has been an emergency with the new team, and I had to leave immediately to go back to the city. You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you. I will text you as soon as I can. Until then – thank you for one of the best weekends of my life (so far). Can’t wait to have more fun, little mouse.  
Billy 
The pack-up and departure of our group from the cabin was relatively quiet that morning, as most were nursing mild-to-moderate hangovers from the drinks the night before. Dinah left first, followed by Matt and Foggy. Frank and Karen were staying a little later to make sure everything was straight and to take the keys to the agency, so I hugged them both before heading out myself, promising to text them when I got back home. Truthfully, I was glad for the quiet and time to myself that the trip back provided. The previous night had felt momentous; the morning, terribly anticlimactic. Billy and I had stayed up until dawn started lightening the sky, indulging our ravenous need for each other’s bodies, finding pleasure in giving each other pleasure. In between, there had been moments of intimacy, talking and laughing in each other’s arms, learning more about each other until the desperation of desire took hold again. I had dropped into sleep out of sheer exhaustion, Billy’s arm around my waist and his lips in my hair. To wake up without him had been like being capsized out of a cloud, dumped back onto the cold, hard ground after floating above the world. 
During the ride home I vacillated between memories of our evening and worry for him, dealing with whatever had been so urgent that he couldn’t have waited for us to wake together. I wanted to call him – to hear his voice, to make sure he was okay – but he had said he would text, and I didn’t want to come off as clingy. Instead, I distracted myself by going over the list of things I needed to do: dropping off the rental, unpacking from the trip, and reviewing the work email I hadn’t checked while I was away.  By the time I had finished compiling my rather long mental list, I was already back at my apartment and swept into the mundane details of returning to everyday life. It was only when my phone rang that I looked up and realized that it was dark outside and hours had passed. 
“Hey, Karen,” I said into the phone jammed between my shoulder and cheek, trying to manhandle my now-empty luggage back into my closet. “Did I forget something at the cabin?” 
“No, that’s not why I’m calling.” Karen’s voice sounded tense, strained. “I’m on my way to pick you up now. Can you be ready in ten minutes?” 
“Absolutely. What’s going on?” 
“Billy’s job went sideways, and he’s been hurt. We’re going to Mount Sinai Hospital.” 
Frank was in the waiting room when we got there, pacing the floor, a paper cup of coffee forgotten in his hand. Karen immediately embraced him, taking the cup from his hands and setting it on a side table so his arms could clasp tightly around her. “How’s he doing?” she asked into his shoulder. 
“Still in surgery.” Frank’s eyes were closed, his head leaning against Karen’s. “The docs haven’t been out since you’ve been gone, so I’m hopin’ no news is good news.” 
“Karen said there was an explosion?” I didn’t want to intrude on their moment, but Karen hadn’t had many details in the car, and my imagination had ratcheted my panic to critical levels. 
“Yeah, from what they could tell at the scene one of the client’s cars exploded outside of the venue of the event they were attending. Fortunately, they got the people out of the car in time, but Bill and two of his guys got caught in the blast.” 
“How are the other guys doing?” Karen asked. 
“One of them just had cuts and bruises, possibly a dislocated shoulder. The other is in surgery now as well; part of the car ended up landing on his leg.” 
“And Billy? What is he in surgery for?” I asked, impatient and stressed. 
“Bill caught the brunt of the blast; he was trying to clear his team. He got cut up by shrapnel pretty bad, and the force of the blast threw him hard. I only got to talk to the docs for a minute, but when he went in his left arm and leg were broken, and there was a possible skull fracture.” Frank hesitated, his eyes on the floor. “They were worried about bleeding on the brain.” 
“Oh my god,” I breathed out, sinking into a chair, feeling like I had been punched in the stomach. Karen sat in the chair next to me and put an arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. 
“Hey, we don’t know everything yet. Billy’s a tough guy with a tough head. Let’s just stay positive and see what the doctors have to say when they get done.” Karen pulled Frank down into the seat on the other side of her and, linking our arms together, we started the long wait. 
The surgery took six hours, and in that time, I got a crash course in the life of Billy Russo. Friends, colleagues, employees, people in the community – there was a steady stream of people checking in on Billy and the others on the team, offering help, support, or, in a couple vaguely alarming cases, retribution. Matt and Foggy came bearing pastries, coffee, and quiet reassurance; Dinah came later with Curtis Hoyle, a vet friend from Frank & Billy’s days in the military who, within minutes of sitting next to me, felt like someone I had known my entire life. Family members of the other injured team members came, their shock and pain evident in their faces and postures, and Frank spoke with them quietly, reassuring them as best he could. When the surgeon finally came out, the group waiting had ballooned to over a dozen people waiting for news. The doctor looked exhausted; his mask pushed up on his head making his hair stick up and out. 
“We were able to go in and repair the damage to Mr. Russo’s arm and leg and stabilize the injuries there. He’ll have pins in his elbow and some other hardware in his leg, but with physical therapy he should regain full use of both. As to the head injury,” the doctor’s voice came out in a huff, “there was a great deal of cerebral edema – swelling of the brain – most likely brought about by Mr. Russo hitting his head after the explosion. While there is evidence of a skull fracture, we cannot determine the extent of that injury or if there are any other underlying problems until the swelling goes down. We’ll be keeping him here in the ICU under sedation to treat the swelling and monitor his progress, but at this point he is in serious but stable condition.” 
“Can we see him?” Everyone’s eyes swiveled to me, but I didn’t care. None of what happened had felt real, and I didn’t think it would until I saw him for myself. The doctor looked at me kindly. 
“You can see him briefly once he is in his room, but he won’t be awake.” 
“I understand,” I said quickly. “I just...need to see him.” 
The doctor nodded his head. “I’ll have the nurse let you know when he’s settled. Mr. Castle, since Mr. Russo has designated you as his next-of-kin, there are a few things we need to discuss. If you wouldn’t mind coming with me,” he said, gesturing towards the nursing station. Frank followed him, talking quietly with the doctor as they moved down the hall. I felt my legs go shaky, and I collapsed into a chair before I fell down. 
He was still alive. Not awake, and not out of the woods, but still alive. The pressure that I had felt squeezing my chest since Karen’s call lessened a minuscule fraction as I repeated the words ‘still alive’ over and over in my head like a mantra. I was still repeating it when the nurse came out and said a few people could come and see Billy. Frank immediately stood up, and I expected Karen to join him, but she looked at me and waved me up. 
“You go ahead. I can see him in a little bit.” With a grateful look, I got up and followed the nurse beside Frank. She stopped just outside it. 
“Mr. Russo is under sedation, but there is always the possibility that patients can hear people, even in an unconscious state, so if you do speak to him, we recommend being positive,” she said with a soft smile. “It can’t hurt, and it may help.” She opened the door ushering us inside. 
Billy was so still, his chest only lightly rising and falling under his gown. His left side seemed almost totally encased in plaster, immobilized in slings and pulleys, while the rest of his body was littered with injuries from the shrapnel that had pierced him. It seemed that every inch of exposed skin had some type of gouge or scratch, right up to his beautiful face, which had several lacerations over his cheeks and forehead that had been stitched closed. Frank stood beside me silently, letting me take everything in.  
After the whirlwind that the weekend had been, to end it like this was surreal, unbelievable. I didn’t know what to feel. Still alive, still alive, still alive, the voice said in my head as I lightly placed my hand on top of his, feeling the warmth of his skin. Still alive. 
The doctors brought Billy out of his medically-induced coma six days later. The swelling in his brain had gone down enough for them to determine that his skull fracture was minor (as much as a skull fracture could be minor) and didn’t need surgery. It did not appear that there had been a brain bleed, which was a major relief, but there was no way to determine whether there would be any brain damage or memory loss until he was awake, so they brought him to consciousness slowly to perform the necessary tests. The messages I received from Karen at the hospital were joyous – there seemed to be no cognitive or memory issues; Billy was awake, aware, and recognizing everyone, already demanding that Frank go and get him some of his regular clothes from his house so that he could “take a piss like a normal person without flashing my ass to everyone in the vicinity.” I had gone into work for the day, hoping to get a few things done, but with Karen’s news, I was out from behind my desk and out the door in moments, already on my way to the hospital. I had picked up a plant as a gift for Billy the day before, something hardy but striking in a simple decorative pot, and I had it in my arms as I made my way down the hallway of the ICU, the nurses I recognized from previous visits giving me quiet smiles as I passed. The door to Billy’s room was open, and I could hear Frank’s low voice talking as I got closer. 
“..people have been by in the past few days, you have no idea. People from Anvil, the community, all your friends. Cass has been here pretty much every day...” 
“Cass?” I was just outside the curtain that separated the area where Billy’s bed was from the front of the room, but I paused when I heard the sharp way he said my name. 
“Yeah, Cass. Karen’s friend that you were with at the cabin.” Frank’s voice sounded unsure, like he was trying to confirm whether or not Billy’s memory actually had been affected by his injury. 
“Cass has been here this whole time?” The tone in Billy’s voice kept me from announcing my presence; I felt frozen, hesitant. 
“Yeah, Bill. She's been worried about you like we all have.” 
“You shouldn’t have let her stick around, Frank. I don’t want her here.” I wasn’t just frozen now; I was immobilized, rooted to the floor in my mortification. 
“Whadya talkin’ about, Bill? You kept telling me how crazy about her you were during our trip, how different she was from anyone else you’d met.” 
“Yeah, and look how that turned out,” Billy interrupted, his voice sounding sour. “When Mickey called that second time I should have gone back and handled the launch event myself, but instead I stayed at the cabin because I was wrapped up in a girl. My head wasn’t in the game and because of that two of my guys could’ve died. Their injuries? Those are on me, for letting some weekend tail take my eye off the ball.” 
Weekend tail. 
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even remember how my lungs worked.  
Weekend tail. 
I felt my feet moving of their own accord, shuffling back out of the room.  
Weekend tail. 
My only thought was to get away, run as far as I could as fast as I could, but before that could happen, I ran into someone standing just a few steps behind me. I whirled and found myself face-to-face with Karen. It was evident she had overheard the same conversation as me; her face was ashen, her expression horrified. 
Weekend tail. 
I felt my insides crumpling with misery and embarrassment. I shoved the plant I was holding into her arms. “Give the snake plant to the snake,” I said, my voice breaking traitorously. “Tell him he doesn’t have to worry about me coming back.” 
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mrsjoycehopper · 17 hours ago
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2 x unhinged Billies
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alloftheimaginesblog · 7 hours ago
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Conflicted {Frank Castle}
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Plot: Frank struggles with his feelings for you.
Character: Frank Castle x Reader
His head rolls back onto his shoulders as he stares up at the ceiling pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s supposed to be focused, supposed to be doing a job right now but he can’t seem to concentrate. All Frank Castle can think of as he sits up in his lonely motel room surrounded by case files is you. The thought of you doesn’t leave his head and it’s beginning to frustrate him.
Of course he knows why he can’t stop thinking about you but he doesn’t want to accept it; he refuses to accept it. After everything that happened, after all the pain and loss he went through, he told himself he’d never fall in love again; he swore it to himself. He was attracted to you from the get go, that was fine he could deal with mere attraction. It wasn’t until you put yourself in danger to get to him and he realised that he couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to you. He refused to accept it.
Over the last few months, you had been helping Frank take down the gangs that were beginning to pop-up again in Hell’s Kitchen. At first he had refused your help but you were persistent and stubborn so he caved. He had told you that he wouldn’t be saving your ass if you were in danger which you accepted... Two months down the line and he was willingly putting himself into dangerous situations to save your life and you did the same for him.
He puffs out his cheeks, sitting back up and rubbing at his face tiredly, “Back to work,” he grumbles as he takes a long drink of coffee before picking up the open case file in front of him and returning to reading.
He manages an hour of semi-concentrating before he gives up, laying on the motel couch, arm over his eyes. It’s then that he gives into the thoughts of you. He lets you take over his brain. He doesn’t keep you out tonight, no, he’ll think of you and maybe in the morning his thoughts of you will subside.
Your laugh plays in his head, the way you say his name, the kind words you’d said to him before... He thinks about the way your eyes shine when you laugh, about your smile... your lips. God, he wants to kiss you. The mere thought of it is enough to cause a familiar stirring in his jeans.
Not tonight.
He pushes those thoughts away. Tonight he just wants to think if you were here, wrapped in his arms, head laying on his chest. He just wants you in your simplest form; asleep on his chest... safe, warm... home. He rolls over, eyes closed. Sleep comes easier than most nights, he falls asleep quick with the thought of you lulling him into peaceful slumber. His thoughts of you don’t stop there, he dreams of you; dreams of a life that he can’t have anymore. 
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the-purity-pen · 7 hours ago
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Hidden Spaces
Frank Castle x Fem!Plus-Sized!Reader
rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY!)
warnings: filthy, filthy smut, public sex, bathroom stall sex, oral (m receiving), one "good girl"
words: 1.3k
a/n: we're just gonna go with it today. a thot was sparked from this gif, and here i am being a whore on main about one mr. castle. please enjoy.
You caught a glimpse of Frank from your place at the bar. Your hood was pulled up over your head to try to conceal your face so when you risked looking at the door when it opened, you knew there was a strong possibility that he had already eyed you.
You turned your head back down towards your drink and tried to steady your breathing. This game of cat and mouse with the vigilante had always been these close calls. But you could always escape somehow, and some part of you felt like Frank was letting you win.
You shifted in your seat when you felt someone come over to lean against the bar beside you. Your eyes turned to the side without moving your head, and you saw the scabbed and scarred hands that you knew all too well. You swallowed hard and moved your gaze back to your drink, your thumbs just running along the condensation of the glass.
"Rum and coke, please," his voice grumbled towards the bartender. You tried to make as little noise as possible as you turned in the opposite direction to take a long sip from your glass. You hoped Frank wouldn't notice you but even if his gaze didn't falter from the back of the bar, he was keeping note of your movements.
"You sure you're not sweating with that hoodie on?" he asked, and you had to stop yourself from choking down the liquid. You lifted your gaze and noticed the mirror on the bar's back wall, where Frank's eyes were trained on your face.
Fuck.
You cleared your throat quietly and nodded. "I-I'm fine. I gotta just-" you stammered before quickly pushing your stool out and hurrying your way towards the back hall where the bathrooms were. You made it to the woman's room and closed the door quickly behind you.
You leaned against the door, feeling how hard your heart was thumping in your chest. You pressed a hand to the middle of your sternum to try to calm it, but it wasn't working. Especially not when the door was suddenly jolted open, causing you to stumble forward.
You caught yourself on the sink and tried to straighten up when you heard the door slam shut and the lock click. You lifted your gaze to the mirror and gasped at the sight of Frank standing behind you.
"You're not getting away this time," he growled as his hand reached around and wrapped itself around your throat. You gasped for air as his grip tightened just right so that he could guide you. Your body had no choice but to obey as your hands came up to cover his.
"Fr-Frank," you sputtered as Frank growled and moved your body into the largest stall, which still wasn't that large. Just wide enough for the two of you to stand face to face in it. The door of it swung close, and Frank reached back with his free hand to lock it.
He moved his face into your space, his lips mere millimeters from yours. "You're not getting away this time, kitten," he growled, the smirk on his face evident of the triumph that he was feeling. He had finally cornered you.
But you echoed your smirk back to him. "I thought I was the mouse and you were the cat," you retorted, your tongue sticking out playfully, almost licking his lips. But this bratty playful side of you only earned a growl from the large man as he held your throat and crashed his lips into yours.
Your moans were needy as you tasted him, and the roughness of the kiss sent chills through your body. Your hands were clawing at him as he kissed you deeper, his tongue roughly opening your mouth to tangle with your own.
He pulled back, and you whined, thinking you'd get some reprieve, but Frank wasn't done. He knew what you needed. Before you could open your mouth for some smart-ass remark, Frank was undoing his belt with his free while the hand around your neck moved up so that his thumb was shoved between your lips.
You encircled the digit and sucked hard on it. He groaned as the metallic clink of his belt and pants falling on the floor echoed in the small space. Frank grabbed hold of his nearly hard erection and fucked his fist for a moment before pressing down on your tongue with this thumb to signal for you to drop down.
He backed into the stall door to give you room as you obeyed his silent command and dropped down to your knees. Your ass hit the toilet on the way down, causing you to groan a bit in pain, but you'd ignore that in favor of giving Frank was he wanted.
Your mouth was on him when your head was at the right level. You took him all the way to hilt in a slow drag. His head fell back against the stall door, the echo reverberating down your body as he groaned.
His hand was finally free from around your throat from when you had slid down, so instead, he grabbed a fistful of your hair to hold the back of your head and press your throat down against him, trapping you there.
"Fuck, you feel so good. So warm. So wet," he murmured as he held you down until he heard you start to gag around his sizeable cock. He finally freed you so you could pull off and cough, but when you looked up at him, the tip of his cock still in your mouth, he moaned loudly.
"Look at you. Thought you'd get away this time," his laugh was almost a scoff. As if he would never believe you to get away again even though you had many times before. You let your tongue lay against the underside of his cock as you moved your head once more and started to bob up and down the shaft.
His laugh was cut short and turned into a groan again. His hips stuttered until they could match your rhythm, Frank fucking your mouth until your saliva and his precum were dribbling down your chin.
Frank muttered praises and affirmations as you continued your rhythm, moaning around him.
"Fuck!"
"Oh, what a good fucking girl you are."
"I knew you were good."
"Fuck, look at you takin' my cock."
A few more moments passed of you greedily sucking him off, your tongue teasing the small hole in the tip a few times before resuming the hollowing of your cheeks. Frank groaned louder, his breath stuttering as he panted and warned you that he was about to cum, which only encouraged you to suck him faster and harder.
Frank shoved his hips forward with a loud groan, his cock going into your throat as his warm seed painted your mouth and throat. It was so much that you almost gagged, but you swallowed down what you could, only a little of the cum spilling out the corners of your mouth.
When you pulled off and looked up at him, Frank looked down and grinned wickedly as his thumb came to swipe the dribbled cum from the corners of your mouth. His thumb ran along your lower lip to encourage you to clean him off, and you did without question.
You struggled to stand up in the small space, but you finally did, and when you did, Franks' hands came to either side of your face and held you firmly as he pressed his lips to yours. He groaned at the taste of himself on your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours.
He finally pulled back, unlocked the door, and waddled out of the stall to put himself back together, zipping his pants and buckling his belt. You straightened out your face and adjusted your sweatshirt.
He looked to you with a softness that was such a change from the dominating man that had just fucked your mouth in the bathroom stall of a dingy bar. He moved towards you, his hands outstretched to hold your face again.
"Same time next week?" he asked softly, his thumbs running gently along your jaw and cheeks. You laughed quietly as you nodded.
"Yes," you answered as he kissed your lips softly again.
And so the game continued.
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frankcastle-core · 2 days ago
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Petition to take all of the scenes of John and sharp stick and make a different movie out of them
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marvelswh0re · 2 days ago
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bit self indulgent… but “is it getting bad again?” with frank 🥺
Hi Rhi, my love <3 I hope you're doing alright, and I hope this cheers you up a bit. Sending you all of my love. Join us at the cafe!!!
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The tears weren’t meant to fall, not when you’d spent the entire walk home obsessively blinking them back, but the second you stepped through the door and Frank’s face lit up from where he sat on the couch, sipping coffee, your resolve crumbled. 
Instantly, before the first tear could drip from your chin, Frank was in front of you, wiping them away with the pad of his thumb.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he soothed, leading you back to the couch where he draped a blanket over your knees and handed you his half-empty mug of coffee. The porcelain was hot to the point of tingling pain, but it warmed your palms and distracted you from the headache starting to form, so you held on for dear life.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“Can I just—” you sniffled, taking a sip of bitter liquid then setting the mug on the coffee table, “can you hold me for a minute?”
Frank nodded immediately, reaching out to pull you into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, your chest pressed against his own. Resting your head on his sternum, listening to the soft, constant thud of his heart, your tears soaked into the fabric of his grey pullover.
“It wasn’t any particular moment, it’s just everything, everywhere, all of the time. It’s like, I don't know, someone’s overturned a chessboard in my head. Now all those moves I’d calculated for my eventual success mean absolutely nothing, and I’m scrambling to reset the board and keep playing but I can’t remember where I put my pieces. It’s stupid, I know, but—”
“Don’t say that,” Frank said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t talk like that. It’s not stupid.” 
Pulling back, you gazed into his dark eyes, at the concern in them. Resting your forehead against his, you leaned in for a kiss. It was tender and gentle and reassuring, and his hand came up to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer.
“Is it getting bad again, Frank?” The question was a mumble against his lips, and as you said it, you’d hoped he’d miss it. 
It was Frank’s turn to pull back. Cupping your face, he ran his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away any traces of tears. 
“I can’t be the one to answer that question,” he whispered, placing another delicate kiss to your lips, “but I can be the one to help you through this, if you want me to.”
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vadinaleme · 2 days ago
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"You know kid, sometimes you find things and… They change your life." ❤️‍🩹
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nkeiiin · 2 days ago
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Do not disturb them.
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superwhirl · a day ago
Link
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