For the short prompts, I'd like to request "future" with frank castle. ty!
frank + future
Ever since the massacre at the park, Frank Castle knew what he had to do. He knew what his future held for him. It held death and carnage and bitter revenge and he knew that, getting into it. There wasn’t room for love or bullshit like that. He didn’t think he’d be capable of that; not after what he’s lost. What he lost is irreplaceable and he doesn’t want the burden of losing another person he cared about.
You have been seeing- more like fucking- Frank for two or three months, give or take. You know just enough about him to know that he’s a man that’s lost everyone he’s loved and that he’s a one-man army whose done terrible things. He knows just enough about you that you’re barely able to make rent with the shitty bartending job you have and that you have too much potential and too much of a future ahead of you, to be with someone like him.
The last couple of weeks though, he’s actually started to stay over. Like, fall asleep next to you stay over. To anyone else, it might not be a big deal, but to you, it’s a fucking leap in your relationship. (Or whatever you want to call it.)
He finds that you’re warm when you sleep and that you mumble about your dreams sometimes. You find that The Big Bad Punisher fucking cuddles in his sleep. (You’ve never pointed that out to him.) You’re unable to process how close you could be to someone physically, but be so far away from them at the same time.
Tonight, he’s high on the adrenaline of another ambush and he doesn’t bother to call you to let you know that he’s coming over; he just knocks. You answer, and you know what he’s here for. It’s not long before your clothes are tossed carelessly on the floor, leading to your room.
Afterward, you fall asleep, whispering to him that he can stay if he wants and that there are leftovers in the fridge. He watches as you drift off, eyes fluttering shut and breathing slowing. You look calm, at peace; something he hasn’t seen or felt in years. And as he studies your facial features, he absentmindedly and softly moves a strand of your hair behind your ear. Even though you’re asleep, you lean into his touch, and that’s when Frank realizes something he’s been fighting off ever since he started seeing you.
His heart constricts at the fact that he does, in fact, care for you. And all at once, he’s not staring at you; he’s staring at Maria, in his bed, in his home. She’s asleep, and she’s wearing the diamond on her finger. She’s pressed against his side, and he’s wondering how he married someone like her.
Frank’s breath catches in his throat, and he moves his hand away from your cheek as he realizes that he can’t keep doing this. He can’t have his life integrate with yours. He can’t destroy your future because he’s looking for something he can’t have.
So he gets up quietly and pulls on his clothes, doing his best not to wake you. He’s about to turn the doorknob to your front door when he pauses and steps back into your kitchen to grab a piece of paper. He jots down a few words, before he signs his name. As much as it hurts him, he stares at the note for a second, before gritting his jaw, and leaving for the last time.
It’s not fair to you that I’m looking for something in you that I can’t replace. I care about you, so that’s why I have to leave. I’m sorry.
Take care of yourself for me.