#Bearded frank my beloved

[moth-murdock]

No one knows (I wish she could)

My masterlist | Series masterlist

A/n: part two! Let's fucking go! Also, those images were chosen for a very specific reason that you will find out later :)

Genre: angst? Fluff?

Summary: being pregnant is supposed to be celebrated. But how are you supposed to tell your husband when he has such deep emotional wounds?

Warnings: telling your husband you're pregnant

Other tags: Curtis mentioned, max not much :(, confrontation yikes, I'm starting to Google stuff now so bear with me

Word count: 1.6k

You pocket the test and sneak over into your shared bedroom to hide it. After much deliberation, you decide to go back to the bathroom and hide it among your period things. You knew for sure that Frank wouldn't go nosing around in there, and it's not like you'd forget about it. You couldn't if you tried.

Slowly, and with shaking breath, you put your things back to how they were. Then, you felt like you could cry. All the worst-case scenarios were going through your head at once, and you felt like they would all come true and burn down the life you had built with Frank. You wash your face to will the tears away, heading back to the living room. He's still asleep. Good.

After a moment of thinking and a glance at the crooked clock on the wall, you turn the forgotten TV off.

"Honey... Come on..." You say softly as you nudge your husband

"You're gonna be achey tomorrow if you sleep on the couch." You reason, but you are met with a protesting groan from the man

"Not gonna be able t'sleep if I get up..." He murmurs, adjusting the pillow beneath his head

"And I can't sleep without you in the bed with me, sweetheart." You counter, to which he gives a few seconds of thought before getting up.

"Don't say I don't love you..." He grumbles as he stretches, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal his happy trail. You want to have a sinful thought, but that is quickly doused by the knowledge of what is currently hiding in your bathroom drawer. Thankfully, he's too sleepy to notice the worry on your face. 

You both make your way back to the bedroom, crawling into the soft sheets together. He's the big spoon tonight, pressing gentle, sleepy kisses to the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around you. You want to be comforted, but this just makes his hands end up on your stomach. Instinctively, you tense for a second. But you don't want him to know something's wrong, so you force yourself to relax. You damn near shit yourself when you're pulled out of your thoughts by his voice, rough with sleep.

"G'night, sweetheart."

"Night, baby"

Baby

The next morning, you take another test. To be sure. Because there's no way, right? I mean, you take your pills on time every day. No matter what. Of course, birth control isn't always effective... But the odds are so slim, there's no way. Right?

Two pink lines.

FUCK

It takes 2 days before you feel like you're actually going to die unless you tell someone. So you call the people you know are close to Frank. You pick up your phone, dialing Curtis's number. There's background noise, like he's probably cooking dinner

"Hello?"

"Curtis! Hi!"

"What did he do this time?" The man chuckles

"actually... I uh... I need your advice on something."

"Alright, what is it?"

"... Well... I uh... I'm pregnant. And I don't know how to tell Frank, and I'm scared of how he'll react."

You hear the click of a stove being turned off and the scrape of a pan being moved off the burner.

"Well... Before anything else, congratulations."

Oh boy.

"... Thank you..."

"I know you know about Maria and the kids. But I need more context."

"Like?..."

"Was this planned? Unplanned? Have the two of you talked about kids before? How did he react to that? All that."

"Oh, um... Unplanned. And I've tried to bring up kids before... He avoids it every time..."

Every time you tried to hint at kids with Frank, you were shut down. A video of a baby in a onesie? He said "cute" and nothing more. Asking to look around the infant section of the store? He asked if your sister was pregnant. You straight up asked him what he thought about kids as you walked past a park one day, and he said "they're alright. Pretty loud."

"Okay... So... Unplanned, and he's been avoiding talking about kids..." Curtis repeats

"Yeah..." You sigh

"Well... I'll tell you what I do know. I know Maria's pregnancy also wasn't planned. But damn it if he didn't love those kids more than anything."

"Yeah, I thought about that too, but I don't know if he'll be the same about me. He didn't have so many... Issues... When Maria was pregnant."

"Good point..."

There's a few more moments of silence before he speaks again.

"The best I can do is this. Tell him, and if he doesn't take it well, call me. I'll try to talk to him."

"Thank you, Curtis."

"No problem. Congrats again." He says before hanging up, after which you put your phone away with a sigh.

You pretty much repeat this process with Dinah, David, and even Matt. You needed all the opinions you could get. And they all said something along the lines of what Curtis said. Frank loved his previous children, and he loves you. But also in case anything goes wrong they would all beat the shit out of him together.

You know you only have so much time before you can no longer hide it. If you did your math right, you got pregnant about two weeks before your period. And given that morning sickness starts at around five weeks, you don't have very long to think about what you want to do and how to do it. 

What you know for sure is that you don't want to get rid of it. But having a baby would affect Frank as well, so he should at least get to put in his opinion. That still means you have to tell him.

It could potentially blow up in your face, yes, but it doesn't seem like Frank would realistically be angry or leave you for it. Hell, when he found out Maria was pregnant, the first thing he did was put a ring on her finger. Their marriage was a good one, from what Curtis and Frank himself have told you. So this can't go too horribly wrong, right?

You take some time to consider your options before you finally come to a decision. You're going to tell Frank. But now you figure out how. You've seen a few pregnancy reveals before, so you have an idea of what you could do that Frank would like. Hopefully, if he likes it enough, he won't blow up.

We need to talk when you come home you text.

Okay. 👍🏻

Despite the situation, that manages to get a small laugh out of you. That seemed to be his response to just about everything.

As you wait for Frank to get home, you decide to pick up some pizza from Lombardi's. You figure that if he's happy, it's celebratory. If he's upset, it's a consolation. You check your phone to see if he's on his way home yet, and he's about 15 minutes out. Fuck.

In an attempt to not go insane, you go to the bathroom to take one more test, just in case. After the longest ten minutes of your life, you are greeted by two pink lines. Double fuck.

You let yourself spiral until you hear Frank's truck pull into the driveway, at which point you go to the dining table. Frank walks in and hangs up his jacket, smirking at the pizza on the table

"Lombardi's and a talk? I hope we're celebratin'" He chuckles in that low voice of his, crossing the room to give you a kiss.

"I hope so too..." You sigh into the kiss, your grip tightening around the positive test in your hands

"You hope so?" He asks, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

"Frank... I..." You start, trying to avoid the lump that forms in your throat.

Frank, lord bless him, just waits. He has this look when he's listening, so aggressive and yet so soft at the same time.

"What I wanted to talk to you about... Is... It's..." You struggle, trying to speak around the lump in your throat.

And Frank, he just listens. He listens in a way that you know he really is. He has that look on his face, so aggressive and yet so soft. He meets your eyes, and that's all it takes for you to break. Because you don't want to lose him. You don't want to lose everything you have with him.

Frank sees the fat tears brimming on your waterline and immediately wraps his arms around you so tenderly and with such concern that it just makes you cry even more.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on? Why're you cryin'?"

You can't answer, your nose already so full that you almost can't breathe. When he notices that, he stops trying to get you to talk. He lets you cry it out, your tears rolling off his flannel.

Once your sniffles die down, you gather the strength to speak.

"I just... I love you so much... And I don't want to lose you..."

"I ain't goin' nowhere... Why would you lose me?" He chuckles softly as he cups your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs

"Because... I don't... know how you'll take it..." You hiccup between breaths

"Take what, sweetheart?"

You finally bring up your hands, showing him the positive pregnancy test

"I'm... I'm pregnant, Frank."

Chapter 3: I want her to know (he don't have it all)

[artdoc-draws]

I promise I am very normal about this man

[honeyedheartss]

frank x reader with grounding sex (idk how to title any of this idk bro)

WHEN HE JUST FINISHED IN YOUR MOUTH AND YOURE CLAWING AT HIM TRYING TO GET CLOSER AND YOURE WHINING AND KEENING AND HE WAS THE ONE WHO JUST CAME BUT YOURE THE ONE WHOS A MESS!!!!! HED DO THAT GRAVELLY HALF MOCKING HALF FOND LAUGH AT YOU BEFORE GIVING YOU WHAT YOU WANT AND KISSING YOU UNTIL YOUR JAW HURTS AND YOURE SORE FROM HIS SCRUFF!!!!!

HIS VOICE BEING LIKE awww sugar was that not close enough for you huh? half down your throat and you want more? and you're just sobbing and little biting at his chest and his collarbones, nails digging into his shoulders with the "pleasepleasepleasefrankieplease" and you can't even think straight you just need him and you need him closer and goddamn it why can't he get closer you're pressed up against him as tight as you can go and you're panicking a little bc there's nothing except HIM right now but it's not ENOUGH and there he is oh my god there he is and his arm is wrapping around you squeezing you so tight you can barely breath and he always knows what you need to ground you and there he is and you're sobbing against his mouth and he's kissing you back, hard but so so gentle and he's got his thigh between your legs and oh fuck

that's what you needed isn't it babygirl? just wanted to get off on me huh? needed me that bad? and you don't even know what he's saying he's got you pinned against his chest and you're trying to kiss him again and he chuckles at you and leans back in, gripping your ass and moving you back and forth on his thigh god his fucking thighs and he's there and it's just him and him and him and him and fuck you can't breathe you can't fucking see and oh there he is and he's telling you to shhh sh I got you princess you did so good for me I got you I got you I'm right here and he is he's right there and he's holding you against him and your face is in his neck and he's pressing kisses into your hair, his hand on the back of your neck, not moving just holding you in place and it's just him and him and him

[strawhbrrries]

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music. 

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did. 

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt. 

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter. 

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week. 

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire. 

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support. 

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do. 

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house. 

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers? 

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend! 

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable. 

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special. 

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that. 

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you. 

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears. 

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.” 

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs. 

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed. 

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe. 

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god. 

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head.��

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”

[brian-in-finance]

Inside Written In My Heart’s Blood • Part 3 of 3

🧵Outlander_Starz: This episode, we once again see the juxtaposition between the more rigid British standards versus the more freeform look of the Continentals.

While the British are *supposed* to be all buttoned up, that hasn't necessarily been the case for our poor William lately (much to his superior's chagrin), who has really been going through it over the last few episodes.

As well as putting his costume through the ringer, Charles Vandervaart has three wigs in order to play William: a tidy wig, a riding wig that won't fall apart as he's galloping, and an untidy wig. I'd say the untidy wig is seeing a little more use lately...

The first time we saw William earlier in Season 7, Part 1, he felt the need to become a soldier, the need to be like his father Lord John. But he was a young man-quite fresh-faced and innocent. Then, he was very proper about the regulations of his uniform, keeping it clean and pristine.

But then he discovers unrequited love and discovers his parentage and heritage, a very up and down journey, so his uniform has to show his adventures. His costume has been broken down, made filthy, and cleaned up and repaired, deteriorating as the story carries on. — TRISHA BIGGAR, COSTUME DESIGNER

🧵Outlander_Starz: William found himself in quite a sticky situation this week and Charles Vandervaart was fully committed to making it all look realistic, much to his discomfort.

I remember talking to Joss Agnew, the Director, about how in a lot of shows, you see people that are just handcuffed or have their hands tied. You always think, “He can get out of that. That's easy."

We wanted to make sure I absolutely could not get out. I was gagged. I had a bag over my head. I had chains on my arms and legs... It was a very interesting day. I don't think I'll ever wear a gag again-that was not my favorite thing in the world. — CHARLES VANDERVAART, WILLIAM RANSOM

🧵Outlander_Starz: The time travel magic ✨ facilitated by the laird's desk felt like classic Outlander.

The desk, which had been covered with a velvet cloth in earlier seasons, now had to send messages through time. To create a design that looked good in both the 20th and 18th centuries, Set Decorator Stuart Bryce said: "We came up with something slightly rococo... A lot of cabinetry in those days did have secret compartments. They were so clever. The ingenuity of the design in the 1600s and 1700s is inspiring."

🧵Outlander_Starz: Before Bree finds that fateful letter, she pulls a book by the late Frank Randall off the shelf. Here's a detailed look at that book...

🧵Outlander_Starz: Roger and Buck have been on quite the epic side quest this season.

For their looks, the team took the clothes from their previous travels and let them get dirtier as the episodes progressed. Same for their hair and make-up. Said Designer Ann McEwan, "They're outside all the time, so we weathered them up. We broke up Roger's beard line so it's not so carved-he's not tidying himself up. Buck's wig was left to go untidy. He was quite an untidy character when he arrived, so he's not too changed."

🧵Outlander_Starz: Few characters have had quite the transformation Buck MacKenzie has, and most of that comes down to the talented Diarmaid Murtagh, who helped bring Buck from enemy to beloved family member.

Diarmaid Murtagh, who plays Buck, is so good. We had approached Graham MacTavish to play Buck, trying to continue what we had started at Alamance, and unfortunately Graham's dance card is very full.

But actually it turned out well because we discovered Diarmaid. It's basically like a buddy movie this season with Buck and Roger. They're so talented together. — MARIL DAVIS, EXECUTIVE PRODUCER

🧵Outlander_Starz: That's all I have for you this week. Hear more from the cast and creative team over on YouTube and don't miss the epic season finale January 17 on STARZ.

Inside Written In My Heart’s Blood • Part 3

Threads 🧵

Remember… as well as putting his costume through the ringer, Charles Vandervaart has three wigs in order to play William.

[as-an-offering]

Oh look I made more!

What Bill Moseley's various characters probably smell like

Otis: This man smells like rot and BO and cheap whiskey and blood. He is disgusting. Breath strong enough to peel paint. Smells so bad you’ll either dry heave or go nose blind, no in-between. But you’ll kiss him anyway because you’re gross like that.

Choptop: Choptop my beloved wife. He wants to badly to be normal, with his wig and his vague attempts at hygiene. But look at where he lives, what he does, what he eats, and those teeth. He’s not succeeding very well. Smells like dust and dirt and blood and probably weed and too much patchouli.

Farmer Sam (Hayride to Hell): Sam smells like a farm, but not in a bad way. Hay, dirt, tractor exhaust. Has a nice cologne for special occasions that doesn’t get used more than maybe once a year. Definitely also smells like coffee and cinnamon toothpaste.

Luigi: Like previously stated by Twice and Vee, there’s def a blood smell happening. I am in camp “it’s not that bad” however. Has a nice aftershave he slaps on those smooth cheeks. His suits always smell clean and his breath smells like coffee. His kisses taste like it too.

Abner Honeywell (Natty Knocks): Abner is probably kinda stinky. Technically homeless alcoholic living in his mom’s old abandoned house? Not great on the smell factor. Cheap liquor and grease paint. Can be convinced to clean up a little if you ask him nicely and offer to watch his mama’s movies with him.

Quinn (Crash and Burn): Quinn has a weird ozone smell. Like right before the rain, but more electric. TV static at midnight. Something about it is familiar, like a white noise machine for your nose.

Mr. Kharver (Big Top Evil): You thought Abner smelled like cheap liquor and grease paint??? Hoooo boy, give this jackass a good sniff. Both those things and probably sweat as well.

Detective Hollis (Gothic Harvest): Adam Hollis smells good because he’s trying to impress the ladies. Definitely on the cheap side when it comes to aftershave and cologne, but it’s still nice. Beard probably smells like one of those fancy beard oils if you get close enough. Used to wear trendy men's body sprays that smell like a middle school hallway until someone told him he smelled "stupid."

Bones (Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game): Bones is a man who appreciates the finer things in life. The fancy city good, the high-end scents. Definitely wears something from a black bottle that has “midnight” in the name or has a name in another language. Undercurrent of formaldehyde from his day job when you’re close, but something about it is strangely intoxicating.

Mr. Snowfeather (American Exorcist): Smells like nothing. Maybe a little smokey, being a demon or...whatever he is. Otherwise you can’t even tell he’s there because, well, he isn’t.

The Magician (Devil's Carnival): I agree with Twice this bitch smells like cotton candy. He smells like sparkles and I don’t even know what that means. He smells whimsical, like the air on the first day of summer vacation when you’re a kid. Also kinda smells like rabbits.

Mayor Buckman (2001 Maniacs: Field of Screams): As clean as he can, given the circumstances. Cleaner on days when he’s going to be around Harper (I literally cannot not ship them I am so sorry but it is impossible). Like blood and gore when there’s a particularly violent dinner service.

Mr. Suitcase (Home Sick): Fancy. Something light and refreshing and not too heavy but still masculine. Rubber from his gloves and an after-scent of rust from all those razorblades.

Frank (Fair Game): Frank is probably just sweaty, being out there in that hot desert shed all the time. But I think he probably smells fine when he hasn’t been out there all day. A little dusty. A little bit like sand and cheap beer.

Ricky With His Brain Out (Silent Night Deadly Night 3): Hospital. Antiseptic soap and the slightest, weird, vaguely sweet smell from his brain being out (thanks for the info, Vee). Someone else’s sweat when he steals those clothes, and blood once he gets to killing.

(shoutout once again to @twiceinawhile and @centaurivee)

[sweetpascal]

: : chapter one : :

series masterlist

summary: bill and frank come to a decision that will ultimately change their lives forever.

warnings: sad frank breaks my heart, bill is lowkey a very reassuring partner, process of adoption

word count: 3k

MAY 2001

Bill noticed a change in the atmosphere that he couldn't ignore. As soon as he woke up and discovered Frank, his companion, wasn't by his side, he felt it. This was by no means an uncommon instance. The latter usually got up before the sun came up to run a few laps around the neighborhood in order to stay in shape. After doing it once, Bill vowed never to do it again. He would want to work out by performing all of the heavy lifting both inside and outside the home. He knew long before Frank came along that the older he grew, the less important appearance was to him. He is content as long as he eats somewhat healthily. Though Frank pleaded otherwise, he was still alive, so that counts.

Bill did not detect the aroma of breakfast. Usually, Frank would make a delicious breakfast to surprise the older man after finishing his laps around the neighborhood. Bill would always complain about the ingredients being wasted, yet his little smile belied that. And so, with a tired huff, he pulled himself out of bed and gave a big stretch that made his bones crack. Stifling a yawn, he finally left the comfort of his shared bedroom and curiously began peeking in the upstairs rooms.

Frank's art room was empty; an easel faced the window and a few incomplete works of art leaned against the wall. Bill's office was vacant; bookcases lined the walls from left to right, piled high with books, and a tiny oak desk sat in the center of the space. As usual, the guest bedroom was also vacant; a twin-sized bed was nestled into a corner, accompanied by a dresser painted in a chestnut hue and an empty bookshelf that rested just below Bill's chest. There were a few ideas on what both men wanted to turn the spare room into, but Bill had just decided to keep it as a guest bedroom. "For any future friends we might have?" Frank had asked him with a teasing smile. Bill had grumbled under his breath and retorted with, "For when I get tired of your cold feet pressing against my damn legs every night." He didn't bother hiding his smile back then.

He thinks fondly of the memory and makes his way down the carpeted stairs. God, he hates these stairs. They’re so easy to get filthy. He contemplates on stripping away the carpet and leaving the original wood, but Frank says that’ll be too much work, time, and money all for nothing. As he rounds the corner into the foyer, he comes to a halt when he finally sees his person. Curled up on a loveseat tilted towards the window, Frank sits silently with his eyes fixated on all the kids waiting at the bus stop. He knew Bill was there, but couldn’t say anything. And that definitely worried the latter.

“You’re up early,” Bill announced gruffly, sleep still traced in his voice and puffy eyes. He spots the empty cup of coffee on the small side table by Frank’s nice. He notices that the stained mug was already dried up, revealing to Bill that his partner must’ve been down here for quite some time. “Hey... are you... alright?”

Frank eventually looks up at the love of his life after emerging from his quiet daze. Thick tears welled up in his once-dazzling green eyes, which are now clouded with an unfathomable despair. A tear trickled down his beloved's cheek and vanished into his beard, causing Bill to experience a sharp anguish in his chest. Frank has always had a delicate spirit. He cares so much and feels so profoundly. Once, Bill got in trouble for trampling on some flowers that had sprouted up in their lawn. Frank had chastised him for hours. And now since he appeared to be so devoid of the life that he typically possesses, Bill was undoubtedly concerned.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bill mutters softly and sits in the chair beside his lover. “What’s with the tears, Frank? I need you to talk to me.” He lays a hand gentle on top of Frank’s folded ones. “Was it... Was it what I said last night? About the mashed potatoes being too salty?”

A watery laugh escaped Frank’s lips before he could stop it. Tears or not, that sound had Bill’s heart skipping a beat. A smile perked at his lips, making his beard move with them. Frank sniffled and dapped at his eyes with a balled up tissue paper he pulled from his robe pocket. Bill moved his hand down to rest on his lover’s knee, squeezing gently and rubbing with his thumb. He let him have a few moments to compose himself.

“I just...” Frank’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly. He glanced outside to see all the children finally getting on the bus with a transporter making sure they got on safely. “We’ve been together for, what, going on almost 15 years now?” Bill nods in agreement. “We’re not getting any younger, honey. And... I’ve just... I see these kids and I see these families and I get hit with the realization that we may never get that - I may never get that.” Bill knows where this conversation is going, and so he slowly removes his hand from Frank’s knee and leans back into his seat with his eyes casted down. “What I’m saying is... I want us to have a child, Bill. I want us to start a family.”

He was silent. Bill was always silent, but this was unusually silent. Frank sniffles again and puts his trembling hands on his partner’s knees, his lip shaking when he exhales a shuddering breath.

“I... I’m not asking for an answer right now, Bill.” He hates how unsure Frank sounds, almost nervous and scared. To be completely honest, Bill was also nervous and scared. He’s petrified. The possibilities of what this could entail are endless. Two men with a child? They’ve never had any problems when it came to them being together from their neighbors (from what Frank has told him), but what happens if a child will change all of that? “I-I know with our lifestyle, it-it may cause some questioning thoughts and-and I understand why you’d wanna disagree, but I think-”

“Okay.”

Frank’s throat tightened and the words died on his lips. The expression on Bill’s face was unreadable, but his eyes said everything he needed to know. Oh, his eyes; they carry the words that Bill could not speak.

“O-Okay...?” Frank shakily whispered as he got down on his knees by Bill’s feet, both hands now gripping his partner’s tightly as if he’ll float away at this moment if he lets go. “‘Okay’ as in okay, stop talking or ‘okay’ as in okay, let’s do it?”

Bill feels a tickle in his right nostril and a lump in his throat as he sees the familiar sparkle in Frank’s eyes that made him fall for him over a decade ago. It took a long time for him to let the walls down and for him to accept who he is. It was Frank that gently coaxed him out of this protective shell. Everything has been Frank’s doing. And now, looking down at the love of his life, hearing the hopeful tone in his voice, he knew he already made his decision.

He leans in closer and cups Frank’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking away the tears that slip down and into his beard. “My life would not be complete if it weren’t for your happiness. Everything I do, I do for you and for us.” His eyes dart back and forth between Frank’s eyes. Nothing else mattered to them at this moment. Bill continues, “My purpose is you, Frank. And if having a family will make you happy, then... I’ll make sure it happens.”

Frank lets out a shuddering breath and laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides; Bill could feel his dimples under his thumbs through his thick beard. They lock eyes for a split second before Frank is leaning up on his knees to pull him into a wet kiss filled with delighted cries, laughter, and tears. When they pull away, Frank is looking up at him like he hung the moon, and he might as well have if it means he’ll look at him like that for eternity.

“It-It’s not just what I want, Bill,” Frank sniffles and shakes his head, tucking a lock of hair behind Bill’s ear and lovingly playing with his earlobe. “I want you to want this too.”

There was a long beat of silence. The birds chirp chirp chirp outside amongst the trees and the occasional car drivers down the street. But right now, both men can only hear each other’s heartbeats. Then, Bill spoke softly and tenderly.

“I want to have a family with you, Frank.”

JULY 2001

Getting accepted for an appointment at an agency had taken several months. A few streets away from Bill and Frank's residence were two women named Lilith and Vivian. They relocated from Florida all the way. They have been married for five years and have been together for over 20. A friend of Vivian’s works at an adoption agency that helps cases like Bill and Frank, to better their chances in getting accepted for adoption. Bill was primarily worried about the two of them being rejected and ostracized for being two male life partners who merely want to start a family and provide happiness for a child.

But then, Frank had gotten the call from one of the workers, Janine or Janie. Bill had heard his hollering and whooping from inside the basement. He ran upstairs as fast as he could, almost breaking the door down as he shoved it open with his shoulder. When he rounded the corner and into the foyer, the bright smile that adorned Frank’s face nearly blinded him.

“We got in!”

The hug that they shared was one that even the strongest beasts can’t break apart. Frank is openly sobbing in Bill’s neck while the latter chokes back tears. What used to be fear and anxiety was now replaced with readiness.

Frank and Bill sat in the too-bright, too-small agency office later that week. Both of them are dressed comfortably–not in a flashy way, but also not in a raggedy way. They had the same appearance as every other middle-aged man who lived in a suburban area. They glance at one other and exchange anxious smiles as the papers rustle. Even though they were anxious, this was the section that really alarmed them.

“Well,” the woman behind the desk clears her throat and adjusts her cat-eye reading glasses, “Seems as though both of your applications have no issues. Your credit history is outstanding, your background checks have both come back clean, and your references say nothing but good things about you gentlemen.” She gives them both a reassuring smile that eases their nerves.

The breath of relief they both release makes the woman laugh heartily. Frank squeezes Bill’s hand and taps his thumb three times. Bill repeats the same gesture and tries not to give a big smile, reserved only for his partner. The woman hands them both a stack of stapled papers in a manilla folder with their names written in the corner.

“These papers basically give you detailed next steps through your adoption process. I’m going to appoint you both a social worker during whichever availability you both agree upon. It’s to ensure that your home is stable enough to bring in one of our kids and to also see your day-to-day life, how you act with each other, and so on.”

Frank hangs onto every word while Bill takes it upon himself to read and reread the papers multiple times to take in every bit of information he can get.

“This can also be known as a ‘home study.’ A lot of the parents that come in here don’t exactly... live up to their appearances, if you know what I mean,” the woman speaks in a somber tone and offers them a sad smile. “And... a lot of the kids that we send off after we complete the home study almost always come back here. I just... I really need you both to be committed to this as I am with you. I’ve known Vivian for a long time and she speaks so highly of you both. I never get personal with my clients, but God, I really don’t want to regret this.”

Frank glances at Bill and leans forward in his seat. “I’m not going to speak for the people who have sat in these very chairs. Bill and I... well, we’ve come a long way. It’s not easy for two men like us to live their lives like heterosexual couples. But the easy part is raising a family and... and making sure our child lives in a home where there is no animosity and hostility.”

The woman looks over at Bill and realizes that his eyes have never left the man sitting beside him. If she knew any better, she’d say that there were hearts in his deep blue eyes. Frank speaks from his heart and soul, all the while Bill is his silent supporter. She’s never seen a pure love like this, not even with Vivian and Lilith.

Bill clears his throat and shifts in his uncomfortable plastic chair. “Ma’am, I love my... Frank. And I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.” Frank stifles a soft laugh. “But... we will give this child a happy home, and that’s a promise I would never break.”

All three sit in a few seconds of heavy silence. Then, she gives them a heartwarming smile, and Frank almost swears he sees tears in her eyes.

NOVEMBER 2001

A girl. They were getting a little girl.

The last few months of the adoption process had been grueling and agonizing, but they held hope. And then, they had gotten a call from the agency, along with a fax of some minimal information on their child. Both parents deceased, grandparents unfortunately had to sign their rights away so the system could care for her due to their old age. From what the social worker has told the men over the phone, she’s a quiet one; loves to read her little stories and softly talk about fantasy worlds and escapism. No medical history other than acute asthma. Frank had nearly cried a river knowing that they’re gonna become a family so soon.

Bill had transformed the guest bedroom. Powder white bed sheets with tiny flowers littered all over adorned the twin-sized mattress. Pastel colored shelves lined the walls. Frank had repainted the small bookshelf and included some books and small stuffed animals that their adopted daughter might enjoy. Bill had surprised his lover with a thrifted dresser covered in midnight blue paint and small stars and moons in gold were slapped on as well. It had only taken less than a week to fix up the room.

Normally around this month, they would decorate the inside and outside of the house for Christmas. It had barely begun to snow. Frank wanted to wait before they had their girl to decorate with. Who knew how long it must’ve been before she had a family to spend Christmas with? Bill only watched from afar as his partner fussed. But deep down inside, seeing him so happy was everything he could ask for.

Three weeks later, it was time.

That same morning, Frank looked at himself in the mirror and anxiously tugged at the collar of his forest green flannel and coat. His palms were sweaty; he had to constantly wipe them on his dark jeans. His heart hammered rapidly in his chest like a butterfly flapping its wings or a woodpecker pecking into a tree. His hair was nicely combed and his beard was trimmed down. He swallowed thickly and nodded to himself. Bill grinned smally underneath his own trimmed beard at the sight of his love fussing at himself once again. When Frank finally turned, he nearly jumped at the sight of his partner. There was a silent dialogue that both men could only understand. It was the subtlety at Bill’s nod and the way his eyes smiled.

“Let’s go get our girl,” Bill told him so softly, his voice thick and gruff with emotion that Frank rarely hears.

Now, standing in the same office months prior, they were ready. Standing side by side with Bill’s right hand being tightly held with Frank’s left hand, they give each other one last look of adoration before the sound of the doorknob twisting broke them out of it.

There she stands, peering up at both men curiously while the social worker gently coaxes her into the room. As Bill makes eye contact, suddenly the world seems more bright and colorful. He hears Frank let out a shuddering breath, but nothing else around him mattered. As he gets down on one knee, even though they crack and shoot pain up his lower back, he still doesn’t care. Frank follows next to him, one hand tenderly holding onto his shoulder as the other lands on his knee.

“Frank, Bill,” the social worker begins. “I want you to meet Y/N.” The woman glances at both men and feels her heart soar as she gets to witness the moment of two people falling in love with their child. “Y/N, these are going to be your daddies.”

The little girl doesn’t even utter a single word before she goes barrelling into Bill’s chest, tiny arms wrapping around his neck while her head finds its home on his shoulder. Frank lets out a watery laugh and wipes at his tears while he rubs her little back. Bill shuts his own eyes as a lonesome tear slides down his warm cheek. He can hear Frank and the social worker discussing the next step, but all he can focus on is his girl’s soft breathing and happy humming.

They finally have their girl.

next chapter

[zolanort]

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog ! (you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to!)

aaaaah sorry I’m bad at these ummmm

1- My job involves drawing blood from my beloved coworkers and then sticking things into the blood to see whether or not the blood hates the things.

2- When I was little I had a pet duck that imprinted on me and then another duck imprinted on him and then my dog was friends with the ducks and my cat wanted to join so I would go on walks and there would be a trail of four animals following me everywhere plus an old bearded dragon named Frank who liked to just sit on my shoulder and sun himself while I collected aluminum cans to recycle for cash monies.

3- I first waterskied at the ripe age of 3

[recitedemise]

It's a rare occurrence that Hallow speaks so plainly, but perhaps it's the domesticity of the moment or a realization of all the strings of fate that had to be woven together for them to have met. It doesn't matter. Their heart is full at the seams this morning.

Hallow finds themself pulling Gale to a stop before he can open the door and drapes a scarf around him. The knight takes their time to wrap it around his neck, the ends tucked beneath his coat so they're not in the way. They even fix his garment to lay flat neatly once more.

It's cold out. I want you to stay warm. Words they've used plenty of times to mean what they say now.

"I love you." Openly and earnestly noted with a kiss that sparks with some of the idle static electric energy in her body, leaving her lips tingling when she pulls away to look back at him with a pleased grin. They pat his sternum twice, letting him know he's allowed to out the door now.

The season has turned. Summer in Waterdeep has shifted its colors. The golds have deepened, its shade more like dahlias now pairing more with umber. The morning's grown chillier, and the cobblestone outside stretches reddened by the leaves, and seldom in the summer would sleeping in so tempt him. Snatching up his bag, Gale's the thought to call in sick.

And it's not for rest, of course, or not entirely for rest were he to truly be frank. He approaches Hallow, his dear, sweet beloved as they wait before the door. They wrap him kindly, his scarf knitted purple to fit the accents to his robe. Their kiss is delicate, warm like vanilla siphoned straight from a pod, and he thinks of spiced coffees and almond in his pastries, all glazed in care and sugar and all things autumnal. It makes his eyes crinkle fondly, the few years they've spent together marking their tell-tale lines. He leans in forward, stealing from their mouth another little kiss. His beard scratches delicately against the skin of their cheek. They pat his chest. He grabs their wrist and kisses there, too.

"And I love you," he says. "And though it'd be entirely unprofessional of me to call in sick when I'm very much not, you would very much make it consider it." Now, a kiss right against their noble knight's brow. "I've lit the fire for you and have prepared you your favorite tea. Now, go on and enjoy them. They will have to serve in my place until my return."

It's cold out, indeed. I want you to stay warm.

[moth-murdock]

My heart takes up all my strength (Frank castle x pregnant!wife!reader)

My masterlist | Series masterlist

a/n: writing my first series! This is kinda scary NGL!!!

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: a fight with your husband, and a surprise

Warnings: spouses arguing, canon typical swearing, reader finds out she's pregnant, fem!reader

Other tags: Bearded Frank my beloved, but he starts out with the skin fade, Max the dog!!, frank being frank, he's living as Pete rn

Word count:2.7k

To say Frank Castle was traditional was an understatement. From the very beginning, you knew. He was the kind of guy to pick you up for dates, bring you home, and even wait until he saw you walk in the door to make sure you did get home safe. He would buy you flowers. He introduced you to his rescue pitbull, Max. He took you to places you had mentioned in passing. He had asked your dad for his blessing, like you were in a movie.

The day you were married, he refused to be in the same room as you until you were both at the chapel. He rolled his eyes and laughed when he found out you had secretly been training Max to walk with Matt down the aisle, a sight that your husband will never forget or let his friend live down. He actually honest-to-god carried you over the threshold of the small house you two had bought a few weeks ago, despite how you giggled and squirmed.

The house itself was still halfway done, needing spackle and paint in a few places. It was barely furnished, mainly just the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. But since you two were on your honeymoon, it's not like you'd really need any of the other rooms anyway.

Now, as cute as that is, you're still both only human. You have your faults, and things you do that bothers the other person. The current issue is that Frank, god bless him, is horrible at updating you on time estimates for when he'll be home. You knew about his life and his past, so you had asked him to let you know when he'd be home from work tonight. He told you no later than 5. It is now 6:30. You check your phone, but there's still no update. Only the messages you've sent him.

You almost home? 5:12

Is everything okay? 5:37

I'm getting worried, honey 5:55

Hello?? 6:07

Are you even alive???? 6:26

Dead silence from him. You knew he would often get too focused on his work and forget to check his phone, but he promised he would more often. So, you did the one thing you knew would get through to him. You got petty. Rather than wait up for him, you ate your dinner, leaving his plate uncovered on the table to get cold. You put up the leftovers, take a hot shower, not caring if there would be enough hot water left for him.

After your shower, you put on a proper set of pajamas rather than sleeping in just a bra and underwear the way you know Frank loves it. You crawl into bed, your back towards Frank's spot. You check your phone one last time, seeing that your husband, your fucking husband, has left you on read. On. Fucking. Read. Not even a simple apology, not even an 'im alive', nothing.

Oh, you were fucking fuming. You grabbed his bare essentials that he'll need for the night, dumped them on the couch, and called Max in to sleep in his place. You crawl right back into bed, silencing your phone and shutting your eyes.

Frank gets home, knowing he fucked up. It was barely 8pm and you were already in bed, a single plate left on the table, Max nowhere to be found, and his stuff dumped on the couch. Fuck. He went to the guest bathroom, taking a lukewarm shower. Fuck. You two hadn't fought a lot, much less fights that were this big, so he knew that when you didn't even care to leave him some hot water, he was in the doghouse.

And he knew why, too. He had promised to tell you when he'd be home, and you made him pinky swear to give you an update if that changed. And he didn't. So he had two options now. Either he apologized to you and admitted he messed up, or he could wait to see if you would forgive him anyway.

You are now on day 12 of being angry with Frank, because you'll be damned before you let this one slide. You've let him sleep in bed again, but you make it clear that any affection is off the table until further notice. It kills the both of you to not be able to wrap your arms around eachother, feeling an uncomfortable amount of space every night. You wake up as you have for the past 12 days, cold and disappointed.

You get out of bed to brush your teeth, hearing Frank's buzzsaw snoring cease about halfway through. Eye contact is avoided as you leave the bathroom, grabbing a change of clothes out of your dresser. Today, you thought, you were going to push it to the limit. The thing you knew would finally break him.

"Sweetheart, can we-" he starts, but you cut him off.

"Good morning to you too, Pete."

Oh. Now that got to him. He shuts up immediately, and with how fast he disappears into the bathroom, you wonder if you took it too far.

As per usual, you two hardly speak throughout the rest of the day. Frank grabs his lunch, which you have started to pack for him again, not saying goodbye before leaving for work. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

You're on edge all day at work. You snap at your coworkers, you drop stuff, you make mistakes with simple math. It's just out of the ordinary for you. What makes it worse is when you get a text from Frank about halfway through the day

Need to talk at home tonight.

Shit. God damn it. Of course he send a text so fucking unreadable in tone.

Okay you reply, putting your phone back into your bag. It feels like a live bomb, so it's a good way to make sure you aren't checking it while working.

You go through the motions of the rest of your work day, though you can feel the anxiety and nervousness boiling inside you like a soup that was left on the stove too long. It makes you feel nauseous, and you don't even touch your own lunch that day.

When you get home, you see that Frank has sent a single message.

5:30

Okay. That's fine, right? He's just telling you what time he'll be home, right? Maybe you read it in the wrong tone. What if he's super pissed? What if he hates you? What if he regrets marrying you? What if-

You are pulled out of your thoughts when a cold, wet nose presses against your leg. Max.

"Hi, baby..." You coo, petting him and watching the big dumb pittie smile spread across his face.

"You wanna go potty?" You ask absentmindedly as you reach for his leash and harness that hang by the door.

By the time you get back from your potty trip with Max, it's already 5. Only half an hour left. You take Max's harness off, making a mental note to give him a bath at some point within the week. Not knowing what to do with your time, you settle on putting the dishes from yesterday away. By the time you're done, it's 5:15. Fuck. Nothing to do but wait.

After the most tense fifteen minutes of your life, The front door opens almost silently. You might not have noticed it if Max hadn't barked and if you weren't actively watching the door from the table. Frank enters silently, petting the dog for a second before hanging up his jacket and turning to you. His gaze is heavy and intense, but you hold it. You are going to show him how much this affects you.

"So, you actually followed through this time." You speak pointedly

"For Crissake-" he huffs, running a hand through his hair

"No, Frank. Don't even fucking start with that. Do you know what that was like? For three fucking hours I got complete silence from you! You never do that! And then you don't even have the decency to reply? You left me on read, Frank! I didn't even know if you were fucking alive! You could have been bleeding out on the sidewalk, and I'd have had no idea!"

"Why would I be bleedin' out?"

"Because I know you, Frank! I know you walk into fights with minimal protection, and I've stitched up enough bullet holes and slashes and I've put your goddamn bones back into place, and- and-" you start to trail off, tears welling in your eyes because of how angry you are.

Frank goes soft for a moment, thinking you're crying because you're worried.

"No! Don't fucking do that! I'm just pissed off at you!" You clarify as you wipe your tears.

"You can't expect me to update you every second of the day, doll." He says in a neutral tone, putting a hand on his hip and the other dragging down his face

"Not every second, smartass. You know that all I ask is what time you'll be home. I don't give a shit about any reasons or other factors. Just tell me when you'll be home. I'd go fucking pick you up if you needed me to. But you and I both know very well why I worry. So don't act like the goddamn victim here."

Frank stays still for a second, processing that you're upset because you wanted to know that he was okay. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, which are chapped since you haven't been reminding him to put chapstick on.

You watch in silence as Frank makes his way over to you, his steps so quiet and yet so heavy all the same. You hiccup in a breath and wipe your tears again, opening your mouth to add another point. Before you can say anything, he had his arms around you and his face in the crook of your neck.

"M'sorry."

It's barely audible, and it doesn't even technically qualify as a word, but it speaks volumes. You want to make him say specifically what he's sorry for, but you also don't want to push it after 12 whole days of fighting.

"It's okay..." Your sniffled response is instinctual. that's just what you're supposed to say when someone apologizes.

"No, it's not." He doubles down

"I shoulda told you I was gonna be late. And m'sorry it took me this goddamn long to figure out why."

Wow. From anyone else, this would be the bare minimum. But coming from Frank? This was a big step.

"I just... I know what you've been through... And... I know who you've pissed off before... So I just wanna know when you'll be home, if at all. I feel like that's not too much to ask, right?" You sigh

"Never, doll. I shoulda been keepin' you updated from the start. That's my bad." He speaks softly, pulling back to cup your cheek gently.

You bring you own hand over his, pressing his hand further into your cheek as you press a soft kiss to the calloused skin of his palm. It's gotten worse since you haven't been reminding him to moisturize.

You two stand there for a moment, just holding eachother in your dining room. Then Frank presses the softest of kisses to your lips.

"M'sorry." He repeats as he rests his forehead against yours, your lips mere millimeters apart

"It's okay." You whisper back

"It's not."

"I forgive you anyway." You murmur before initiating another kiss, only breaking it to pinch his side

"- as long as you don't do that shit again."

Frank winces and lets out a gruff laugh, but he nods. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands trailing down to your waist. He paused for a moment, but when you gave him the go-ahead, he proceeded to spend the rest of the night making it up to you.

Frank made a promise to himself that night, that he'd never let a fight last that long again. Sometimes, he really didn't understand what he was apologizing for, but you would explain it and accept the apology anyway. Neither of you wanted to do that again.

(Three years later)

At your request (and because you hid the electric shaver), he had grown out his hair and beard. You absolutely loved it. When the two of you would watch a movie, he'd lay his head in your lap and you'd massage his scalp until he was sawing logs along with Max. His beard would tickle you when he'd press kisses to your neck, and when he'd bury his face between your thighs. His hair would also come in handy there, giving you something to tug and use for leverage as you ground your hips into his face. When you would tug it a certain way, he'd groan right into your sex, and it would rumble from his chest all the way to your core.

All was well in your guys' little world, living as Pete Castiglione and his wife. You had gotten Frank to adjust to a more domestic life, and he was more than happy to come home to a loving wife, man's best friend, and a home cooked meal almost every night (because some days you really do just need to order some takeout). Your guys' relationship was thriving, both in public and in the bedroom. He just had a way of making you a stupid mess that you couldn't get enough of.

If you asked Frank what his favorite part about you was, he'd say your smile. It was his home screen, his lock screen, the picture in the rearview mirror of his truck, everything. But inside the bedroom? It was the feeling of you wrapped around him, nothing in the way. Before you were married, he would always wear a condom just in case. But on your wedding night? He nearly came just from finally feeling you without the damn latex.

He loved to fill you up. He loved the way you'd beg for it, the way you shivered when he did, hell, he's even filled you up just to eat it right back out of you until you were crying. You were on birth control anyway, so there wasn't a risk. Right?

You notice it when you wake up one morning to the familiar notification on your phone.

A new cycle begins today!

You roll your eyes at the cheery message from your period tracker, making your way to the bathroom. But it's not there. Your app is never wrong, it adapts based on your past logged periods and adjusts accordingly. It's always right. But your period isn't here.

You decide not to panic, because for all you know, maybe it'll hit later today? Surely, that'll be the case. So you wait. But it didn't come that day. Or the next, or the day after that. On the fourth day, you're really starting to panic. You're officially late. And not the kind that can be excused by blaming traffic.

You don't tell Frank right away, not wanting to sound a false alarm. That night, you're sitting on the bathroom floor with a timer on your phone and a sleeping husband and dog in the living room. To say you were nervous was the understatement of the century. You weren't scared about being pregnant (yet), you were more nervous about Frank. You knew about Maria, Lisa, and Junior. You knew that was something he hadn't truly healed from yet.

What if he freaks out? What if he doesn't want it? What if he leaves you? What would you do? How would you pay the bills on your own? What if-

Your thoughts are interrupted by the timer on your phone going off. You quickly shut it up, lest it wake your sleeping husband. you're silent for a moment, glad to hear that he's still snoring like a chainsaw. Your hands are shaky as you reach for the small plastic device on the sink, and you almost don't want to see the results. You take a deep breath for your nerves before flipping it over. Two pink lines.

Oh boy.

Chapter two: No one knows (I wish she could)

[bichettes]

dbl extras || beck

summary: ofc i had to make one for beck too! can't leave our guy out of it. carrie's character profile can be found here :) reference pics here as well

full name: beckett daniel shaw

dob: january 12, 1997

height: 6’2

zodiac sign: capricorn

love language: physical touch

skin tone through the winter, spring/fall, summer:

okay so the website i used for this, the last shade is not what it actually looks like in the computer it’s less orange than whatever we’re seeing here; more brown-toned? if that makes sense

hair: medium brown in colour, and is like, all of this:

it’s a mix of things

pic 3 and 6 is more off season vibes yk

frank castle my beloved (although that’s not who i imagine him to look like - iykyk)

man can also rock a buzz cut if he wanted to

he’s so handsome :((( and carrie is in love w/ him!!!

who said that

whew chile anyway so

has been able to grow a pretty good beard since he was 18/19

piercings? hm yeah

one lobe piercing, he keeps a little hoop in it

imma let y’all guess where the other one is

if you read ch. 8 you would know he has a birthmark on his right shoulder that’s pretty big

build: have y’all seen michael lorenzen bc that’s what i picture beck's body to look like

mans big

he definitely wasn’t that big last time carrie and him saw each other

tattoos? no but maybe in the future

wears contacts, wore glasses when he was younger

he’s an ambivert

people watcher; likes to watch and analyze - can catch him doing so in the clubhouse

plantdad!beck 🪴 guy’s always had a green thumb

beck’s style:

[honeyedheartss]

beard frankie word vomit

beard frankie would let me make out with him till my jaw hurt and my chin was raw and would let me tug on his beard to pull his attention back!!!! I should be making out w him sitting in his lap grinding my bare pussy over his jeans and leaving a wet spot while he laughs at me and slaps my ass and calls me pretty and needy and pulling his cock out and making me whine and beg for it while he strokes it a bit before thrusting up into me with no warning and I'll cry about it hurting and he'll ask if I want him to stop and ill be shaking my head desperately and he's like "yeah thats what I thought. got u addicted to my cock huh princess?"

[sbhelarctos]

I cant stop thinking about @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo AU where Percy pretends to be Aphrodites son. So here’s some fun headcanons and random bullshit

— Aphrodite straight knowing Percy aint her kid from the get go but thinks this is the funniest shit thats happened in centuries and also she like bullying Poseidon about it

Poseidon: *boasting about some bullshit*

Aphrodite: Omg! Look Percy sent me a picture of him and his siblings winning capture the flag and said “We did it Mom!!!”. Isn’t that just darling Poseidon?

Poseidon:…

— Also, PERCY IN A DRESS! A SKIRT! A CROPTOP! Him throwing the concept of gendered clothing out the fucking window!

Aphrodite: Your son’s gnc as fuck

Poseidon: YOURE INSANE

— Percy keeps using his powers and everyone’s like “Aphrodite wtf is up with this one kid of yours” and she’s just like “Oh he takes after is grandmother is all.”

— SIREN PERCY! Its like charmspeak but way stronger. When he sings, people are drawn in and completely ignore whatever was going on before—they just want to get closer and hear more of his voice. Also he doesn’t need to sing, he can still use it while talking; lace his words with power, getting anyone to listen to him, drop their guard, and agree with whatever he’s saying. His voice tends to catch attention

— Percy worried that he isn’t enough of a child of Aphrodite and that people are going to figure him out. His solution: flirt like his life depends on it. Hes very bad at first but that doesn’t stop him and its just becomes his natural instinct. In danger? try flirting!

When he start to really develop his skills rip to everyone

— I hc that Aphrodite is a pretty decent parent, mainly bc she doesn’t give a shit about the ancient laws or whatever and regularly visits her kids and helps them out. Also when she gets angry she tends to shift back to a war goddess. So…

Aphrodite Areia on her way to the underworld to beat Hades whole shit in after hearing he trapped her son in a dungeon:

Hades: You dare come into MY domain and—

Aphrodite: And YOU dare use a potential love interest of my son’s to threw him in your freaky damp ass dungeon!

Hades: PERSEUS ISNT YOUR SON!

Aphrodite: I’LL CASTRATE YOU WITH MY LOUBOUTINS!

Persephone: How’d you even get in here anyway?

Aphrodite: Huh? Oh this isn’t my first time breaking into an underworld, though this one was way easier

Hades: What? When did you break in before?

Aphrodite: Ugh I hate talking to you so much I almost wish I never left the cradle. ANYWAY, I cursed you with ED until you apologize to Percy so have fun with that loser

— Post Reveal whenever camp has any games Percy always goes with Cabin 10, much to everyone’s dismay

Frank, who wants Percy on his team: Its not fair that you always get him, hes not even your real brother

Drew: Wow, just because Percy’s adopted he’s not our “real” brother? That’s seriously fucked up Zhang.

Lacy: Y-Yeah! Percy’s the best big brother!

Percy: 🥺

— Poseidon trying to appeal to Percy via his adoptive siblings. Whenever someone from Cabin 10 is on a quest they almost always get some watery help at some point

Drew: Best part of having Percy as a brother is that Sea Beard keeps helping us on our quests to get Percy to love him, like if I need to got anywhere all I need to do is go to a river and say how much Percy must be so worried about me, his beloved sister, and then suddenly a very convenient boat drifts a shore

Lacy: Oh he helped me get across a lake by giving me a hippocampus!

Mitchell: One time my group was being chased by a monster by a river and an huge sea serpent jumped out, ate it, then disappeared

Valentina: Apollo gave us a ride to California

Mitchell: Whats that gotta do with anything?

Valentina: I don’t know, he just said to tell people especially Percy, and was all “Oh and tell him how handsome and awesome I looked saving you” it was weird

Drew:…Anyway so yeah we got it pretty easy

— Pre-Reveal, Annabeth taking Percy aside after seeing the way Poseidon’s focus is almost always on him:

Okay thats it, thats all my bullshit for now. Go check out @caffeinatedflumadiddlebutpjo who first came up with this AU

[the-void-writes]

from the kissing prompts:

17: height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

Thank you so much buddy 💖 The minute I saw this I knew it had to go to the kings lol. To sum up, Frank still doesn’t believe he’s a king, and Gazali reassures him that he’s the only king he could want. It’s a little mushy, but that’s just how these two are, I guess.

OSOP - The New King - Gazali and Frank

His Royal Highness, Frank Gonzalez. It still sounded foreign to him, as though the words and syllables just did not click. He wasn’t a leader, not in his own eyes, and he had no magic like his husband, but their people looked up to him with all the love and awe they showed for dear Gazali. A doctor like him overseeing a kingdom… his mother might have been proud, if she had ever cared about his life.

Frank sat by the balcony, watching his friends close their stalls and head home for the day. The air was warm and sweet, a purple sky full of cosmic art hanging overhead. Soft music crackled from an old radio, to which Gazali hummed along, waltzing with himself in the bedroom. His robe of red and gold brushed the tiles as he spun with the most blissful smile on his face. That smile, and his everlasting optimism, had won Frank’s love in an instant.

“Don’t get dizzy,” Frank said. “I can’t carry you to bed.”

Gazali giggled, and Frank thought his heart would burst from the sound.

“You doubt your strength, my darling.” He spun onto the balcony. “Perhaps I’d keep my balance if someone were to dance with me.”

Frank rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, I can take the hint.”

He let the king pull him back into the room, closing the doors behind him. His head rested comfortably on Gazali’s chest, which shook as he hummed once more, dancing hand-in-hand with his beloved. Neither of them could stop clinging to each other, laughing every time they stumbled over a tile or rug.

“Forgive me, your majesty,” Frank said, “but you’ve married the worst dancer in Paradise.”

“You think I’m any better?”

Gazali chuckled happily, but Frank shook his head.

“You could have any person in Paradise, and you chose a doctor with two left feet.”

The king’s smile faltered. He held Frank’s chin and tilted his head up to face him.

“My darling, I’ve waited three centuries to find you. I never expected to fall in love again, but once you came to us— I could never want anyone else as king.”

Frank’s heart fluttered. “But all that time you’ve been waiting, and you end up with some doctor from—”

“Stop that. Stop being so cruel to yourself. You’ve done so much for our kingdom, Frankie, you’re our hero.” His voice grew low and shaky. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Hey—” Frank dried his eyes for him. “—don’t cry, please. You’re right, and I’m sorry. Believe me, honey, I’m so fucking grateful to be here with you.”

Gazali took his hand and pressed it to his lips. “I know you are, dear. Please, just try to see yourself the way I do.”

“Gaz, I don’t think anyone can see me the way that you do. Your vision of life is so unique.”

The king’s smile returned. “I like to look for beauty in the world. You, my dear, are the most beautiful piece of all.”

Frank blinked away a few tears. “Would you get your ass down here so I can kiss you?”

Gazali laughed and leaned his head down, though he was still too tall for Frank to reach. Frank stood on his toes as far as he possibly could to kiss him. The king’s thick beard tickled his chin as he went from his lips to his neck, tenderly kissing every inch of skin. Then, in one big motion, Frank was pulled up off the ground. Gazali held him securely to his chest, the way one would hold a pillow.

“Your majesty,” he said, “will you come to bed with me?”

Frank stuffed his hands under his glasses. “You’re never gonna stop calling me that, are you?”

Gazali laughed. “Not if I can help it.”

[turtle-steverogers]

Mikey I have Feelings about Steve Rogers specifically tonight and I want you to hear them

- Steve likes apple just fine but he actually doesn’t like the taste of cinnamon so he doesn’t actually eat a lot of apple things; Bucky experiments with different pastries until he finds one that’s close enough to the regular thing that everyone (including Steve) is happy.

- Sometimes Steve gets overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds and smells and textures and it’s all too much. He goes into his room, sits on the floor (the bed is too soft), puts on a sleeping mask and puts in heavy-duty earplugs. (Can you tell I read “Suspended Silence” again tonight? 😂)

- Sometimes if Steve is mentally overwhelmed (which happens a lot after a lot of PR-type stuff, he’ll take tweezers to his legs; the hairs don’t snap out so much as they pull or drag out. It’s not the sharp pain of other hair, it’s slower and more all-encompassing. He’ll pluck until he feels calm again.

- He’ll only sleep around you (let alone *on* you) if he really truly trusts you; it doesn’t happen for the team for the first year and a half at least.

- Steve likes almost all flowers except marigolds; Sarah died in October, and marigolds are the flowers of October, so there were a lot at her funeral. Same with narcissus for Bucky, at least until he gets back. (Bucky never saw his funeral; all he knows is the flowers are pretty, and finally Steve starts to see them that way again too.)

- Steve had a little bit of a lisp way-back-when that no one told him about because they all knew it was caused by his bad hearing. It was fixed almost immediately after coming out of the vita-ray chamber because he heard people talking and subconsciously mimicked them. However, no one spoke to Steve in Gaelic after Sarah was gone, so his Gaelic sounds just the slightest bit off.

- Sometimes if Steve is minority stressed, he’ll grab his sketchpad and work on warm-ups: straight lines, loops, etc.

- Steve has Sarah’s wedding ring tucked away somewhere; it was in the Smithsonian, but he took it back. When he’s not on a mission, it goes on the same chain as Bucky’s dog tags.

- Nomad!Steve went a little crazy on beard care products… however Bucky definitely appreciated it!

- He has to have someone (usually Bucky or Natasha) proofread his mission reports because his commas are ATROCIOUS. He never could sit still in class long enough to learn when to put a comma, so they just go wherever he thinks they should.

Steve has a four-foot-tall stuffed dog named Frank that Bucky won for him at Coney Island

Hope you like them ❤️ feel free to elaborate on anything that catches your fancy! I love these types of conversations with you where we keep hyping each other up.

Also how are you?? ❤️

YOU HAD FEELINGS AND GAVE M E FEELINGS OKAY LETS BREAK THIS DOWN

-YES to the apples one! The juice is real good and refreshing and helps him feel less nauseous, but apple pie and apple fillings are way too sticky and dense for him, and he feels like he can barely swallow them! And yeah, the cinnamon taste it just so overwhelming-- no. Bucky ends up mushing down the apples a whole bunch and using less cinnamon to make little mini apple strudels that Steve really loves!

-(Thanks for reading again, pal!) Yes! Steve with sensory overload is one of my absolute favorite headcanons. I headcanon that he's always had sensitivities, impairments or not, but the serum just exacerbated everything and he shuts down so quickly. Bucky walks in on him sometimes lying spread eagle on the floor and he like goes over him and asks if he'd rather company or not and usually ends up with Steve in his arms while he squeezes the heck out of him. (Steve likes pressure)

-Yes! He also bites his nails and picks the hell out of his cuticles, which serve the same sort of soothing repetitive purpose

-YEAH AND THE FIRST TIME HE DOES fall asleep around them, he's in the huge squishy armchair in the communal living room, curled up with his legs tucked under him and his face propped all smushed on his fist and they're all struck by how goddamn young he looks ("Nobody fucking wake him" "Wasn't planning on it")

-And once he shifts his view on flowers, he gets a marigold tattooed on his bicep! The stem loops around his arm

-STEVE WITH A LISP YEAH That tracks, I can totally see it! And yeah, I can see his Gaelic being just the slightest bit stunted, but he's still entirely fluent.

-He also doodles swirlies and little comics! Like cartoon mini Avengers

-Sometimes he twists the ring around in his finger, or holds it to his cheek or lips to ground himself if he's stressed or needs centering

-OKAY BUT BUCKY DOING HIS BEARD CARE F O R HIM I'm such a sucker for like,,, intimate grooming. Shavings, haircuts, washing hair/bathing together. So sweet. Bucky rubbing in some beard butter and kissing Steve's forehead. "Looking good, sweetheart"

-You know, it's fucking hilarious you bring up this headcanon and also very creepy because me and @misspluckyplum JUST wrote a scene where this exact thing was happening. Like I'm pretty sure this line was actually written: The grammar he could help with. Steve wouldn't recognize a comma if it hit him in the face. I think he struggles with that sort of thing partly because he couldn't focus when he was at school, and also because he had to miss so much of school, so some of the more basic technical stuff he missed out on. Grammar is hard for him on paper!

-FRANK MY BELOVED on bad days, Bucky finds him dead asleep on top of Frank send tweet

These were wonderful, thanks pal!!! I'm good! Had a bit of a stressful week, but I'm much better now. How are you??

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Masterlist of Mini Drabbles and Series: Updated: November 10, 2023:

New Fic: Belong With Me

this mood board is made by my beautiful anak @star-spangled-beard-burn​ ! Salamat!

(This is an open request. If you have one, please send me a DM. )

Also, the banners and everything else is made by the beautiful @finleyjayne​

Thank you!

(**= Smut. 18+ only)

Rain and Thunder

A Night Out (Dark Andy)

You Are Not Breaking Up With Me (Dark Andy)

I’m Sorry

**A Grave Mistake (Dark Andy Barber)

Rumors the Series Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Andy and Reader have a wonderful marriage. Met, when she was first year at Boston College and Andy was a first year at Law School. Until, he decided to cheat on her. Finding out, through rumors around the school that she works at, she leaves and meets Chris. 

No Time Wasted Masterlist (COMPLETED)

Continuation of Rumors. Andy and Y/N lives are turned upside down, as Andy’s mistress comes back into the picture and his determined to ruin their lives. 

Better With You Masterlist (Completed)

Reader is engaged to Chris Evans and both have a long history together. A lot of ups and downs. But Chris pushes her away, until you had enough. Pregnant, she runs to her hometown in Newton, where she meets hot shot Andy Barber.

Better With You: What If: Masterlist: (Completed)

Reader and Andy are trying to live their lives, with two year old Hazel. But when Chris arrives unexpectedly at her birthday, and Chris is starting to question.

Drunk Mini Series (Completed)

Andy Barber x Reader

Andy had a rough night and decided to drink away instead of coming home to his wife and daughter. 

**Contains domestic violence. Please do not read, if this bothers you.**

Always You Masterlist (On Going)

Au Celeb! Frank Adler x Reader

Frank is a actor and is secretly engaged to Y/N. But when news broke out about a “new relationship” broke out? Your world came crumbling down.

Two Years, Too Late (On Going)

Steve left you, with no explanation. You were left into a deep depression, with nothting to live for. Until your best friend Ransom came to your rescue. 

Steve Rogers x Reader, Soft! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

The One (Indefinitely On Hiatus)

Simu Liu had everything especially the girl that captured his heart from college.It wasn’t until his fame got to him, and drove her away.

You had the perfect life, your dream job of becoming a nurse and your college sweetheart, Simu. But it all came down, when his fame got to him and pushed you away. Many broken promises, fights and other things.

Chris Evans, americas golden boy and not to mention hot. One drunking night, ended up in the hospital with  broken ankle and a beautiful nurse.

Simu Liu x Reader, Chris Evans x Reader

You Will Find Me: 2.0

This is a redue of one of my older fics. I changed the characters and added some scenes that I didn’t include in my old one. 

Characters: Andy Barber x Sarah Park. (OC) (Past)

Andy Barber x Jessie (OC), Sarah Park x Frank Adler

Summary: Three years ago, an accident happend as Neal (Andy’s assistant) went to pick her up at the airport. (Andy was stuck  in a case) and Sarah went missing. 

Andy spent years, looking for his beloved. But it was no use.

Sarah was found on the side of the road, with no memory of what happened. All she could remember was her name.

Hello Sun Shine

Summary: One day, at home you get a call from a woman that you hate. Suzanne Brewer. The moment you got the call that your husband was found dead, you immediately knew that she was bluffing.

You called up your friend Dani Miranda, and you knew why she told you. You have something, that she wants.

Secrets and your job as a former agent/assassin comes to life.

Lloyd Hansen x Y/N Hansen

With appearances by: Dani Miranda, Suzanne Brewer and brief mentions of Denny Carmichael.

Warnings: smut, (reader and Lloyd are horn balls) torture, guns, violence, and blood.

If any of these disturb you or make you uncomfortable then please walk away.

The One That Got Away

Mob Lloyd Hansen x Maria Cantoni (OC)

Mob Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You and Lloyd Hansen have a history together. Both come from a Mob Crime Family. You and Lloyd were set to become engaged, but one faithful day, he broke up with you and married another. You held a secret, that you didn’t get to tell Lloyd.

Belong with You

Separated from the one he loves, Chris is determined to make things right for his family, and his daughter.

**Stress Relief

**Late To Class

With You

Lucky

Ice**

Divorce

Divorce 2

Night Sex with Andy Barber

Fighting With Andy Barber

Make Up Sex with Andy Barber**

A Cozy Evening with Andy Barber

Yours

Special Moments

Mommy is Hurt

I Love You

No, Daddy

Please, For Me

**

You Came Back

**

Forbidden Love

Not In Love With you

Meant To Be

Evermore

**

**Becoming Mrs. Barber

**Insight

Home with Andy Barber

**Sweet Prize: Prologue

**Sweet Prize: Part. 1 (Coming Soon)

Requests:

**The Closet Series: (18+ Smut)

The Closet**

The Closet: (Request by Annon)

**The Office (Requested by Annon)

Choke**

Can I Keep You? 

All That I’m Asking For

Chris Evans: (**18+ Smut)

Midnight Snack

Fights

The Truth

Gone

Not Your Ordinary Day

Without You

How Rude!**

You Had Me At Hello

Rainy Mornings with Chris Evans

Mrs. Evans

Love You Like Me

You Had Me at Hello

**Babies

Love of My Life

**The Car

Good Morning Showers**

**My Wife

**Home Coming

My Wife

Untitled

The Massage **

*******

**Run Away

**Run Away Pt. 2

**Run Away 3

Run Away: 4

**

Home

Nightmares

My Wife

Swell

Punished

My Darling

**

**My Omega

**My Omega: Beautiful

Steve Rogers Request:

A Date: (Request by @southerngracela​)

**

Into The Forest (Dark Steve Rogers Alpha x Omega)

A Night to Remember

Enemies to Lovers: Writing Challenge

Fucking Ransom: Get Your Own Blanket

**My Sweet Angel (Dark Ransom)

*******

Frank Adler

Always You Masterlist