#*blows kiss down into hell* for billy russo

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Agent Zero —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: So much fun to make everything ten times more complicated than it should be -Danny

Words: 1,243

Phase Four Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Boys Like You’ -by Dodie

xxi: Desperate Measures

Billy kissed her hand before sitting on the fancy chair in front of her, she felt goosebumps at the action, there was something about him, even if she wasn't a fan of who he was, that she enjoyed.

"Are we about to have a business meeting?" The man asked with a hint of humor.

"Yes, so please behave, Mr. Russo."

"Very well, I'm all ears."

Cat's heart was pounding, she'd worked outside S.H.I.E.L.D and away from the Avengers' watchful eye, and she was still acting with good intentions, but in order to do the right thing, she'd have to do the opposite.

"I've been thinking about Spider-man's situation... I heard he's got no support, maybe we can help."

Billy frowned. "And why would we help an Avenger?"

"He's not an Avenger, Billy. He's a boy that messed up and he's desperate to fix it. A boy with no money, just him and his aunt, whether he killed that guy or not, I bet he's willing to do anything to get out of trouble."

The young man pondered her idea, he leaned back on his chair. "On paper is a great opportunity, but I doubt Spider-man will associate with us."

Cat raised a brow feigning innocence. "Rich people do charity all the time. Aren't we the pillars of the community?"

"People like him are taught not to trust us."

"You talk as if you were some kind of boogeyman," she chuckled.

Billy smiled, but it was far from friendly. "Don't play dumb, Kati. It doesn't look good on you."

Cat's expression hardened. "If you leave it to me, I'll make sure he accepts it."

"And you promise he'll do what we ask?"

"He'll have no choice."

Billy reached out to grab her hand, but instead of shaking it, he kissed it again.

"We have a deal."

"One more thing," she clasped his hand. "Do you know anything about that auction?"

"Ah yes, the auction..." Billy grabbed an agenda and pulled out a small piece of paper. He handed it to her. "That's the next event. But you shouldn't be wasting money right now..."

"Don't worry about it," she winked at him, standing up and blowing a kiss as a goodbye.

"Cat!"

"Sorry I was off the grid, I was—"

"Peter got arrested!"

She almost dropped her phone on the sidewalk. "What!" People looked at her, she smiled apologetically and positioned the phone back on her ear. "It's like 10 pm! Why the hell would they arrest him at this hour?!"

"The Department of Damage Control came and took him, he's there all alone and I got calls from Ned's parents and MJ's dad," May's voice quivered."Cat, what do we do?"

Cat entered an alley, she teleported back to her house and searched through her drawers, grabbing some old IDs and her leather jacket. She changed her hair from Katrina's red to her usual brown as well as her eyes, then seized the keys to Steve's old motorcycle.

"Mouse, call Nelson and Murdock."

Cat entered the office with a confident step, she had no time to lose. At the front desk was none other than Karen Page.

"Hi. I'm here to talk to one of your lawyers."

The blonde woman was up to her nose with paperwork, but she still managed to give her a kind smile even though Cat hadn't spoken in a polite tone.

"Of course. Miss..?"

"C.C." She shook hands with Karen. "Stark."

She noticed her astonishment, but whether the woman thought it was crazy for a Stark to be hiring lawyers so far away from the fancy, renowned firms, she didn't say.

"Okay, if you can wait here just a moment—"

"That won't be necessary," Matthew's shirt had the sleeves rolled up, it looked like he was about to call it a day when Cat had called him. She felt guilty for keeping him in the office. "Miss Stark, please come in..."

"Thank you," Cat told Karen briefly with a smile before following Matthew.

She took a seat in front of his desk, no hand-kissing for her this time. As soon as he sat down, though, she began talking sparing him from flirty jokes.

"Peter got arrested. They have him and his friends at the headquarters of Damage control, they're interrogating him about the missing tech."

"You know you can't hire me, it has to be Parker himself or his aunt."

"May called me before they took her as well, she asked me to get you."

"Me, specifically?" He raised a brow.

Cat smiled. "She asked me to get a lawyer 'cause she knows I worked at a law firm during the blip. Is your friend Foggy busy?"

"Not more than usual. Why?"

"D'you think he can work on MJ and Ned's cases? It shouldn't be complicated, they didn't do anything so all he needs to do is go there and help them go through the interrogation."

"Why couldn't I get the easy job, huh? Do you like stressing me out?"

Cat wasn't used to Matthew taking things lightly, especially in moments where good people were in danger. Her brain processed his tone way later than her ears, so for a moment, she thought he was genuinely upset.

"If you think it's too much I can look for another lawyer, I have enough money to hire anyone I want—"

"I was joking," Matthew frowned at the last part of her sentence. "Where did you get the money?"

"Just focus on helping Peter," she got up. "I gotta stop whatever's happening at Damage Control. Are you guys taking the case?"

"Yes," Matthew called her name one last time, quietly so Karen wouldn't hear. "Please, don't do anything that could put your identity at risk."

"Which one?" She replied sarcastically.

He'd run out of jokes. "The one that still has friends to lose."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat your name?"

Cat leaned forward on the desk and pushed her ID closer to the secretary. "C.C. Stark. I'm here to pick up the Parkers and the kids you abducted from their respective homes."

"Hey, excuse me, lady, we didn't—"

"Oh, you must be the man in charge, yes?" She walked up to the curly-haired guy. "My uncle financed this place, he'd be very disappointed if he knew you're mistreating his ward."

"Tony Stark had no nieces," the man crossed his arms.

She raised a brow. "Hold this." Cat handed him her helmet and pulled out her phone, looking for Pepper's number.

"Okay, okay, fine— hang up!" The man said grumpily. "What's your name again?"

"C.C.," she grabbed her helmet and looked at him expectantly. "Am I going to be standing here all night or can I see the kids?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Stark, but they are currently under investigation—"

"That's all good and dandy but that doesn't mean you have the right to keep them without adult supervision."

"We're the supervision."

She caught movement at the entrance: Foggy and Matthew had arrived. "Look at that, the lawyers are here! Can you please take them to their clients?" The man stuttered a reply, she frowned a little. "What? May Parker hired Mr. Murdock, I'm sure she mentioned it."

"Of course," he gave a harsh look to the men behind him. "Please, take him to the Parkers."

"Good evening, Miss Stark." Foggy Nelson stood next to her, he offered to shake hands with her and the damage control officer. "Mr..?"

"Cleary."

"Mr. Cleary," he smiled. "I'm here to represent Miss Jones and Mr. Leeds."

"I'm here for May and Peter Parker," Matthew stood next to Foggy.

Cleary glanced at Matthew's cane. "Sure. Come this way..."

"Miss Stark, thank you so much, we got it from here," Foggy smiled at her, he had a sweet face.

"Thank you."

"Stay here," Matthew insisted.

"Of course, we need to talk about your fees," she replied casually.

"Yeah, we do." He replied.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

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[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Reborn - Part 22

Pairing: Billy Russo X Reader (from A Woman Scorned)

Rating: R / 18+ only

A/N: This is a sequel to A Woman Scorned and takes place a few years after the events of AWS.

MasterList (includes links to AWS and previous chapters here)

Summary: You and Billy are happily married when tragedy strikes, jeopardizing your relationship and everything you two have built together. Can the two of you find your way back to each other or is the special bond you once shared broken forever?

Part 22

Billy clutched at his chest, shoving his anger and guilt deep down. Now was not the time to dwell on his emotions, not when you just went through hell and appeared shell-shocked from the experience. You were seated on a makeshift hospital bed, your eyes cast downward. As much as he wanted to take you to an actual hospital, both of you knew that would be a terrible idea. First of all, the hospital staff would notify the cops considering the extent of your injuries. That meant an investigation and paper trail for Fisk to follow when he realized his warehouse was in rubbles.

Although it had been a risk, the quickest way to get rid of all the dead bodies was to blow up the place. Unfortunately, that meant if Fisk had goods stored in there he wouldn’t spare any expenses to find out who attacked one of his warehouses. But that was still a better choice than leaving direct evidence. So Billy destroyed it all and brought you to Gordie. A medic who once served with Billy, Gordie now worked as a paramedic and didn’t mind helping out people with medical stuff for the right price.

You winced, bringing Billy out of his reverie. “Fucking gently!” he barked at Gordie while the man treated your broken fingers. In an effort to comfort you, he took your other hand and kissed the fleshy part of your palm. “Just squeeze my hand when it hurts.”

“It hurts now,” you griped before squeezing the crap out of his fingers.

“Look at me,” Billy ordered, holding your gaze as Gordie positioned a splint along your finger. “Gordie’s gonna do his magic and you’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

His heart lurched, seeing the blank look on your face. There were bandages on your lips, your face, wounds that would take time to recover. Wounds that were put there because he’d failed you, because he hadn’t gotten rid of Krista sooner.

You grimaced again, and he reached out to hold you, stroking your hair softly. “You’re gonna be fine,” he repeated, to himself as much as you, clinging to you out of desperation.

Gordie flashed him a curious look, probably because the man was used to seeing him as Lieutenant Russo barking orders on the field and not panicking like he was now, but Billy ignored him, instead murmuring soothing words to you.

You had to be okay. You had to.

***

Dawn broke, rays of orange splintering across the sky as Billy drove out of the city. The roads were deserted, sharp winds howling outside with the promise of snow coming down in a few hours. During road trips he liked to blast music and speed through, but you were sleeping soundly next to him and he didn’t want anything to disturb you. He cast you a long glance, your hair still wet from the quick shower you took earlier, your chin tucked in, the throw he’d picked up from your couch covering your body. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest seeing the bandages on your face. You looked fragile, vulnerable. Broken. His hands trembled, his heart pounding in his chest. All the pent-up fear that he’d compartmentalized so he could plan and plot and get you to safety now came crashing down on him.

He almost lost you.

Not because you left him but because you almost fucking died.

Tears blinded his vision, his hands shaking so badly he could barely grip the steering wheel. He pulled over to the side of the road, swiped his face as he turned to you. You were still passed out from the painkillers Gordie had given you, because the torture you went through had left you with multiple bruises and broken fingers. He shifted closer, careful not to disturb you, but simply needing to breath you in, to smell you, to assure himself you were okay. You were still alive.

So fucking obsessed was he with the idea of you leaving him or falling in love with someone else he had completely ignored the true threat – you dying. Because of Krista. Because of his fuck-ups. He failed you, and because of him you were hurt.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, maneuvering closer to bury his nose in your hair. He inhaled you in, as if capturing every bit of your essence in his heart would somehow keep you safe forever. You were the only person in this life who mattered to him, and you had to be protected at all cost. So he held on to you, clung to you a closely as he could without disturbing your sleep.

Your presence worked to calm him down, even though it took much longer than usual, and just when he reluctantly pulled away you stirred next to him. His breath seemed stuck in his throat as you turned to him, your eyes glazed, a slow, dopey smile appearing on your beautiful face. You should have been pissed at him; instead you were staring at him with so much love that it broke his heart. Clearly the painkillers were still in your system.

“Hi,” you murmured, reaching up to palm his cheek. It was then you noticed your bandaged hand, confusion dawning on your face.

Billy swallowed audibly, waiting for you to speak. However you leaned in closer, snuggling up to him. Relieved, he grazed your forehead gently with his lips.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“In the car, driving out of the city. We talked about that, remember? We picked up some of your things from the apartment?”

You glanced at the empty road behind him.

“Are you still in pain?” he prodded, running his fingers through your hair.

A bout of silence followed where you examined your hands for a long time. “My heart hurts.”

He rested his forehead on yours, placing his hand over your heart. His chest was ready to explode with the guilt your words evoked, but he reminded himself that this was good. This was necessary. These days you kept your guard up, doing your best to push him away, but at least now you were being honest which would allow the two of you to process and deal with everything that happened. “I’m so sorry, babe. I wish I could-”

“I’m so sleepy,” you murmured, interrupting him. You closed your eyes. The next second, you were out.

He held you encircled in his arms, before gently positioning you back in your seat. He placed the comforter back on you, watching you for a while. Finally he drank the rest of his coffee, which was now cold, and started the engine back up again. Within seconds, he was back on the road.

***

The cabin was located in the woods, with the closest neighbours a twenty-minute drive away. Billy had reached out to one of his contacts to get a place and didn’t have high hopes for it considering how last minute it was, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that the isolated cabin wasn’t some kind of hell-hole with an outhouse. Fresh snow glistened on the ground as he pulled the car to a gentle stop near the cabin and surveyed the property. A few feet away was a makeshift barn with a padlock on it, which he made a mental note to check out later.

Leaving you alone, he took the suitcase he’d packed in a hurry and went up to the entrance. He punched in the lockbox code and retrieved the key before letting himself in. It wasn’t a big place, but held a warm, cozy appeal which he would have appreciated under normal circumstances. For now though, the only thing that mattered was being safe until the threat of Fisk subsided. After dropping off the suitcase, he rushed back out and went over to your side of the car. Unlocking the door, he leaned over you to unbuckle your seatbelt.

Trying his best not to jostle you awake, he carried you inside. The cabin didn’t have a bedroom, instead there was a king-size bed across from the fireplace with a room divider to set up the areas separately. He placed you on the bed, taking his time in removing your coat and unlacing your shoes. Despite his best efforts not to disturb you, you winced in your sleep once in a while and his heart stopped every time. Eventually he had you clothed in only a t-shirt and left you covered under a blanket.

After putting away everything and a quick shower, he surveyed the kitchen cabinets. His contact had mentioned there were enough canned goods in the pantry for a few days but that wouldn’t suffice; he definitely needed to get to the store to pick up some actual food. Thankfully there was coffee, which he needed desperately to keep him awake through the night.

A few minutes later he positioned himself next to you, perched against the headboard. In deep sleep, you turned towards him and snuggled against his lower body; he bent down to kiss the top of your head. For just a moment, he closed his eyes. The warmth of the cabin and your close proximity was lulling him to relax and give into his exhaustion – but suddenly the image of you from earlier, bloody, bruised, your face marred with pain flashed through his brain and it was enough to jolt him awake. He shook his head vigorously, gave himself light slaps on the cheek before reaching for the second cup of coffee resting on the nightstand table. Next to the warm mug was his gun and knife, with other weapons hidden throughout the cabin and some buried outside. Even if he was being overly cautious and the chances of Fisk coming after the two of you were low, now was not the time to get complacent. He needed to stay alert, to protect you and himself.

No one was going to hurt you again.

***

You woke up to sunlight streaming on your face, so warm and bright that you had to reach up to block the glare from your eyes. An uncomfortable ache shot through your hand, your fingers unnaturally stiff. Something was wrong, but it was the sight of your bandages that brought everything rushing back. Krista. Her goon. The torture. Pain shot through you at that moment, remembering the whole ordeal.

You sat up, looking around the cabin. You didn’t know this place although you could remember Billy telling you he was taking you somewhere safe. The smell of fresh coffee in the air made your stomach growl and you slowly made your way out of the bed, around the room divider, and towards Billy who was standing over the stove. “Billy?”

He turned around, and your heart clenched at the sheer anguish that flashed over his face. You must have looked worse than you thought. “Where are we?” you asked, hoping to distract him.

Finally he seemed to snap out of his daze. “Vermont. We only have enough food or a few days, just some cans of bean and other stuff in the pantry. But there’s a grocery store forty minutes away.” Billy walked to you, placing a tender kiss on your temple. You noted the redness in his eyes, his jittery movements, how he couldn’t seem to hold still even for a minute as he walked away, plated food and set the breakfast table all inside of a few minutes. “After you eat, we can go pick up some fresh food.” He poured you a cup of coffee, placed it next to your plate, and waltzed back to you again. “You need to eat. You must be starving,” he murmured, cupping your face.

“You look tired, Billy. Did you get any sleep?”

He circled around you until he was hugging you from behind, guiding you to the breakfast table and nudging you to sit down. “I’m fine.” He sat next to you, sipping your coffee before handing it back to you. “It’s not the best. I know you like it creamy but there’s no cream in this place. We can grab all that stuff from the store.”

“You must have drove all night. You didn’t sleep, did you?”

Irritation splashed across his face. “I’m fucking fine. I told you. Now eat so we can get going.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re hopped up on something.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stood up, throwing his chair back, voice growing louder and more erratic. “You think I took something? Why would I do that? I wouldn’t get high and put you in danger!”

You stiffened, rattled by his behaviour. This wasn’t like him; he wasn’t one prone to losing his temper so easily. The two of you had fought many times during the course of your relationship. In the beginning you tended to walk away, something you learned growing up with a father who reacted with violence, but over the years you came to trust Billy and learn that he’d never hurt you or belittle you. But the man in front of you right now, as much as you believed he was your old Billy, was someone you didn’t know enough to trust. The accident had changed him to someone you abhorred, and now he was a fragmented version of that man and the one you loved, and you didn’t know if you were safe around him when he was on edge.

“I know you’re worried about Fisk. I have people watching him and his crew. If there’s any – any – fucking indication he’s coming after us, I’ll take care of him. Nothing is gonna happen to you!” He stopped pacing all of a sudden, turning to look at you. His eyes were red, brimming with unshed tears, watching you intently.

You gripped the fork on your plate, bracing yourself.

“You don’t trust me to keep you safe anymore, do you?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, aching with pain. “I let you get hurt.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I should have killed Krista a long time ago and I didn’t. Because of me, she did this to you.” His touch was gentle as he took your wounded hand in his own, his dark eyes shining with guilt. “I fucked up. I’m…” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

You wanted so badly to comfort him, to tell him you trusted him again – but you couldn’t. Something in you refused to say the words to him. Even though your soul cried for him and your heart ached with guilt, you didn’t move to offer him solace.

Suddenly he stood up and walked to the door, closing the door behind him.

You sat still for a while, unsure of what to do next. Eventually you went to the bathroom and found that Billy had already unpacked your toiletries and stored them neatly into place. You glanced at all your stuff, noting how he’d picked items that mattered to you and not just some random assortment of things that were scattered in your bathroom. You sighed, your heart heavy, catching your reflection in the mirror.

No wonder he’d flinched when he first saw you. Black eye, swollen face – you looked like hell.

Taking a deep breath, you shut the door to use the bathroom.

A few minutes later, carrying Billy’s jacket while yours was draped around your shoulders, you stepped out. Wind nipped at your cheeks, the ground covered in snow. You followed the track marks he left behind and found him behind the cabin, panting heavily as he punched the barndoor over and over again. You stood a few feet away, regarding him silently as he expelled his frustrations, his gut-wrenching groans tearing at your soul.

It took a few minutes before he finally stopped, his fists bruised, his body out of breath. You sensed he would’ve kept going but stopped only because you were close by. For your benefit. Because he knew, he understood how much sudden outbursts of anger triggered you.

“Go back inside. It’s cold out here,” he commanded.

Ignoring his order, you approached him. He turned around reluctantly, cheeks and nose red from the cold. He regarded you with a piercing focus, onyx eyes welled with complete longing but there was also hesitancy there, as if he was afraid.

You handed him his jacket, your eyes locked together as he slipped into it. Then you couldn’t stop yourself, you reached out to hug him and he wrapped his arms around you, his chin tucked against your temple, embracing you.

“I scared you inside, didn’t I?”

Face still burrowed in his chest, you nodded.

His fingers ran through your hair. “I keep fucking up with you.” His voice was hoarse with anguish. “I don’t know how to fix things.”

“I just…” You swallowed him in, wishing desperately there was some way you could open your heart fully to him again. “We were happy once, weren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, rubbing your back. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Heart aching, you looked up at him. With a touch so gentle as if you were made of glass, he cupped your cheeks. You wondered if he would try to kiss you but he didn’t. Instead his eyes consumed you, studying every inch of your wounded face.  

“Scream at me. Yell. Hit me if you need to. I deserve it. You got hurt because of me, because I didn’t kill Krista when I should have. You have every right to hate me for that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I do.”

He pursed his lips, nodding his head in agreement.

“And a part of me hates myself,” you added. “I had so many chances to get rid of her but I wanted her to suffer, to pay for what she did to me. I took too long and she got the upper hand.”  

“But now the bitch is dead.” Rage swelled in his voice, fierce determination saturating his molten eyes as he lowered to your height and met your gaze. “I told you once I would burn this entire fucking world down for you. I let you down once but it’ll never happen again. You are safe. I swear.”

“I don’t doubt you’ll keep me safe from others.” You eased your hold on him, carefully choosing your next words. “But it’s you I want to feel safe with again.”

He stepped back immediately, dropping his hands from your body so you two were no longer touching. You expected him to lash out, to defend himself, maybe even insist you were wrong to feel the way you did - but he didn’t. Instead his emotions ran the full gamut. You noted the guilt on his face, his self-loathing and desperation in the way his lips trembled and fingers quivered. He stared down at the ground, unsure, hesitant.

“How do I do that? Make you feel safe with me?” he finally asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t know.”

His troubled stare trailed up to lock with yours. A long bout of silence followed, with the two of you fixated on each other. The yearning was palpable; reminding you of when either of you returned from a work trip and the need to love one another was ravenous, his heart gleaming in his eyes, you reciprocating the same way, the two of you anxious to just be together.  You wanted to embrace him again but didn’t let yourself. Inside you felt raw, your heart shattered, and as much as losing yourself in him would bring you happiness it would only be temporary. All of your misgivings would still be lurking in your heart.

“It’s cold out here. Maybe we should go back inside?” you suggested, needing a respite from the tension.

“Yeah, I’m freezing my balls out here.”

You chuckled. That was the thing, he always knew how to make you laugh.

As you turned around to head back to the cabin, you noted his close proximity but also how careful he was not to touch you. Billy had a tendency to always maintain physical contact, if he was close he was touching you, whether it was his fingers linked with yours, or his hands spanning your back, or his arm thrown over your shoulder - so you recognized the space between you now was a deliberate effort on his part.

Once inside, the two of you removed your coats and shoes and you tried to help Billy with his bruised knuckles. The damage wasn’t too bad but considering the state of your injuries you knew it would still be painful. Shortly after the two of you were seated at the table, you devouring the food he had made earlier.

“We should get moving soon before the grocery store closes,” he said quietly, watching you like he aways did.

“I don’t want to.”

Instinctively he reached out to cover your hand but stopped before he touched you, as if remembering your words from outside. “I know you’re tired. I’d go on my own but I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

“Billy, you need sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

He took the empty plates and went to rinse them off at the sink. You followed behind, forcing him to turn around.

“We can go to the store tomorrow. Today I want us to rest.” You took his hand and pulled him across the room, guiding him towards the bed. “I can’t have you strung out on caffeine and no sleep if Fisk or his men come around. What if you end up shooting me accidentally?”

“That’s not fucking funny!” he growled.

You smiled, taking in his petulant expression as you nudged him to lie back in bed.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he offered, hesitancy returning to his voice.

You shifted to your side, reaching up to run your fingers along his forehead, tracing his eyebrows and his scars, breathing him in. He glanced back at you, trying to keep his hunger in check.

“I can’t not touch you if you keep doing that,” he murmured.

“I just want you to sleep.”

He closed his eyes, but you could still feel the tension coursing through him as he tried to keep his distance. Finally you maneuvered him closer, resting his head atop your breasts. This position was so very familiar, rekindling old memories of how you two would sometimes fall asleep, his head lodged on your chest, your legs tangled together.

You caressed his hair, breathing him in. You tried to calm your mind and relax.

It was impossible.

Now that the painkillers had worn off, all you could think about was Krista and her goon holding you hostage. Beating you, punching you. The feeling of powerlessness, the physical pain. Rage. Fear.

Your eyes flew open, your heart pounding. You wanted to crawl out of your skin but you couldn’t move, because Billy was sound asleep on top of you and you didn’t want to wake him.

Anxiety surged through you, you took a few deep breaths. After several seconds you synchronized your breaths with Billy’s, focusing on only that so all other thoughts plaguing you were slowly drowned out.

His body was heavy atop yours, the sensation grounding you to reality and away from the hell you lived through.

Soon you were fast asleep.

[fific7]

That Swept-Back Hair

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Summary: How will Billy Russo react when his FWB finds another lover? Bearing in mind that he’s a complete hypocrite.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff with mentions of sex.

A/N: Loosely based on S1 Billy, it’s non-canon & set in my imaginary Punisher universe.

(My GIF)

»»———————————————　⚜　———————-————————-««

Your phone was jumping like a jack-in-the-box on your bedside table, the blue light of the screen illuminating the wall behind it every few seconds.

You rolled over with a groan, taking a moment before picking it up and looking at it. Of course it was Billy Russo, who else would it be at 1 AM on a Saturday morning?

The guy next to you in the bed also rolled over, covering his mouth as he yawned, eyes half-open.

“Everything OK, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah, Raf, just a needy friend.... gonna call them back, so do you mind staying hush-hush for the next few minutes?”

He yawned massively again, speaking through it, “Ahhhhrrrrr...yeah... no problem...”

You hit the ‘Favourites’ star next to Billy’s name in your contacts, hearing it start ringing.

It went to voicemail so you hung up, slid the phone onto the table and threw your head back down onto your pillow. Fucking Russo. Blows up your phone with missed calls & “Pick up!!” texts then doesn’t answer when you call back.

It rang two seconds later, just as Raf had turned towards you, opening his mouth to no doubt ask you about your ‘needy friend’. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, but the screen went dark just as you did so.

You hit redial, it rang out, went to voicemail. “Fuck!” you ground out between your teeth.

Your head had touched your pillow again for about 5 minutes, when there was a staccato series of knocks on your apartment door.

You shot up in bed, quivering - ah hell, it couldn’t be, could it? Really?

Raf had dozed back off in the meantime & didn’t even stir when the knocks rang out sharply in the quiet apartment. Not much of a guard dog, you thought, quickly throwing on your discarded PJs.

You padded barefoot over to the front door, confirming via the peephole that Billy Russo was indeed outside in the hallway, leaning on your doorframe so he could place one eye right to it. You spotted an eyebrow wiggle as you made eye contact. Oh holy hell!

You straightened your shoulders, took the chain off and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Billy!” you said quietly, with a small smile, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for about three weeks. Not that that was anything new.

He moved gracefully past you like the panther he was, even though you’d been trying to subtly block him from coming in. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, so you guessed he’d been at one of the never-ending stream of events he attended.

Your mouth drew into a line. Whoever he’d gone there with must have bucked the trend and bailed on him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have turned up at your place when, in his mind, the night was still young.

He turned towards you, placing both hands on your hips as he did so, pulling you up against his muscled chest.

“Now, Y/N, why do you think I’m here, holding my best girl in my arms?” the New York accented voice purred in your ear.

He leant in and kissed you hungrily, deepening the kiss immediately to a passionate one.

You pulled away, escaping his grasp. His eyes widened in surprise, a small frown making its way onto his brow. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen forward onto his brow and he swept them back up with his fingers, a reflexive gesture for him.

“I tried to call you back,” you mumbled, “I’ve... uh... got a friend staying with me at the moment.”

He shot his trademark smirk at you. “Hey, that’s OK. We can be quiet for once, yeah?” Grinning now.

In true romcom fashion, Raf picked that moment to come wandering into the lounge, clad only in his boxers, both hands ruffling through his short hair.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. He made a quick recovery, though. Gestured with a thumb.

“So... this your ‘friend’?”

He looked Raf up and down. He was a 6 feet 3 firefighter with the FDNY, and to put it mildly, he was ripped.

He topped Billy by a couple of inches, and by a few pounds. Billy scowled at him.

Raf eyed up Billy too, turning to you and asking, “This your ‘needy friend’ you were talkin’ ‘bout, Y/N?”

Oh crap.

Billy’s scowl turned to a furious glare, aimed right at you. “Needy?!! Ah, fuck this, Y/N! I think we all know who’s needy around here.”

Your mouth rounded into an offended O, but before you could reply, Billy was out the door and it slammed loudly behind him.

Great - now all your neighbours were gonna be mad at you too.

»»———————————————-　⚜　-———-———————————-««

You had then spent an uncomfortable half hour over a coffee with Raf, explaining the dynamics of your non-relationship with Billy.

“Now,” he’d said, brow furrowed, “let me get this straight. He’s part of your friend group, you see him every so often at a bar or at one of their places - but never his. He sees tons of other women but turns up here for booty calls whenever his busy schedule allows?”

He shook his head. “He’s using you, Y/N. What a selfish prick.”

You bristled, “Look, we go back quite a ways. Since he was in the Marines. I knew Frank first as we were neighbours when we were kids, and I eventually met Billy through him. He’s Frankie’s best friend, they’re Marine brothers.”

“And how long have you been ‘friends with benefits’?”

You muttered your response. “Sorry, what was that you said?” he asked.

“Three years,” you repeated reluctantly.

“Damn.” he said. “And what am I, exactly? Filler for whenever fuckboy isn’t calling?”

“No! Raf, you’re a really nice guy, and I love spending time with you.”

He stood up, heading to the bedroom. “Look, I’m gonna go. I need a few days to try and get my head round your fucked-up relationship with the suit-wearing Marine.”

He’d left shortly afterwards, saying he’d call. You weren’t sure that he would.

You met up with Karen for lunch later that day. You’d been co-workers first off, then had become good friends. She was currently dating Frank, your childhood friend.

You were so glad that he was back out socialising, in a small way, after losing his wife and kids in a brutal gang clash just over a year before. They and several others had been what the papers described, rather callously, as “collateral damage” while minding their own business in the public park the gun fight took place in.

Frank had understandably closed himself off to a large extent as he grieved and after a decent interval, you’d tried your best to draw him back out in a gentle way. You’d decided to indulge in a bit of Matchmaking Lite, and had invited Karen along to a night out with the rest of your friends. You knew Frank would be there and as you’d hoped, they hit it off right away.

You spilled what had happened the night before to her, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She looked and sounded sympathetic, but you knew she wasn’t a big fan of your arrangement with Billy. She again voiced her astonishment that you still had it going on with him.

“Karen, without making you vomit by sharing too many details, Billy is just the absolute best in bed. He’s got the stamina of an ox. Several oxes, in fact.” You just knew your eyes had a faraway look in them.

Her mouth pursed in a ‘moux’ of distaste. “But still, Y/N, he’s just so damn selfish about it! It’s all on his terms.”

“You know he’s got commitment issues.”

She choked on her espresso martini. “Ya don’t say!!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Look, honey, I’m gonna be straight with you. It is anything but complicated. He spends 90% of his time at Anvil, 9.9% with other gals, and guess who gets the remaining measly 0.1%, the crumbs from his table?” She pointed her finger straight at you. “Coconut for the lady over there!”

You sat in silence for several minutes, turning over in your mind what Raf, and now Karen, had said to you. Eventually you nodded slowly. “You know what, Kar, you’re totally right. I just let the great sex blind me to all the rest of his fucking bullshit.”

Time to cut Billy loose.

Not that you ever had him tied down in the first place. If you were being brutally honest.

And you weren’t sure whether he’d even bother showing up at your place ever again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day being Sunday meant that some serious ‘Me Time’ was in order.

Sitting on the sofa, you stared off into space, thinking about the two men in your life. You huffed to yourself; you hadn’t heard from either of them so far, and that was probably for the best. You could do without being stuck in the middle of some kind of testosterone-fuelled conflict between the two of them.

Then you laughed out loud at yourself. Who were you kidding? You’d probably never see either of them again! You stood up, stretching out your shoulder and neck muscles. Time for a bit of self-pampering.

You had a long relaxing bath, gave yourself a leisurely mani-pedi, ordered in some pizza, and began to go through some layouts for work the next day.

You were a digital content editor at the newspaper both you & Karen worked for. It was okay as jobs went, but it didn’t set your world on fire. However, what did excite you was that the newspaper’s parent publishing house was about to launch a travel magazine, and you’d applied for a transfer.

What really made butterflies pop up into your stomach, though, was the fact that the magazine’s content editors would also be contributing instead of just collating. You’d already had an interview with the Editor in Chief, and should be hearing back within the next few days.

If someone else got that position you’d applied for, you’d just have to shove them out of your third floor office window at the very first opportunity.

While you were thinking of potentially becoming a murderer, there was a familiar pattern of raps at your door. Your heart sank straight through your boots.

You knew it was Billy before you opened the door. It sounded ridiculous but he had a certain way of knocking. Peremptory, demanding, with military precision.

He stood outside your door, tensed up and rigid, with a carefully blank look on his face.

“You alone?” he barked, by way of greeting.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Why, hello Billy. How are you? I’m fine, Y/N, how are you? Yeah, I’m great.”

He glared right back. “I asked if you were alone.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Billy, seeing as how I’m so needy!”

He huffed and marched inside straight to the sofa, sitting down and leaning his arms on his spread-apart thighs. He clasped his hands together, letting them dangle loosely between his knees.

“You said I was needy first.” Sulky face.

“Hey, are we back in school or something?”

He looked up at you, dark eyes staring into yours intensely. “Why d’you get with another guy, Y/N?”

Straight to the point, then. OK, you were going to return the favour.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a life? D’you think I’m going to just sit around, waiting to gratefully receive 5 minutes of your attention every few weeks? Like some kind of fucktoy, to be picked up and dropped at will? Seriously?”

He clenched his fingers until the joints went white. “I thought you were happy with the way things are between us!!?... our... our arrangement. You’re important to me. And you know I care about you!” Not meeting your eyes at this last comment.

“Huh!!!” You leant against your kitchen island, you weren’t going to get into Billy’s orbit. Too risky.

“So important that you spend all your time at work, while bedding half of Manhattan? Leaving me with the crumbs from your table, as someone put it recently.”

He shot up from the sofa, fury in his eyes. “Who fuckin’ said that?!”

You shrugged, “It’s not important. What is important is that our arrangement, as you call it, is over. Since you put it in such business-like terms, think of it as a contract which has been terminated.”

Billy stalked across the room until he was an inch away from you, eyes boring into yours. “No.”

You laughed in disbelief, eyebrows arching. “You think that just cos you say ‘No’ it’s not gonna happen? Because no-one ever says no to Billy Russo, is that it?”

He grabbed you, lips finding yours in a ferocious kiss. One hand crept up the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair, while the other hand pulled your hips to his. He had an impressive erection. You gasped as you felt the pressure of it against you, but pushed him away, escaping to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Just go, Billy. Please.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, those dark pools of his looking suspiciously glossy. Was he...? No way.

Billy turned on his heel and slammed out of your apartment. Again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy knocked his beer bottle off the table with his elbow, as he leant forward to drunkenly wave a finger in his friend’s face. Luckily, it fell onto the grassy verge below, rather than the decked patio they were sitting on in Frank’s back garden.

Frank grabbed his finger. “Russo!!! Chill out, man.”

“She tol’ me... t’go, Frankie, I was kissin’ her an’ she jus’ said Go!” slurred Billy. Frank squeezed his eyes shut at the whiny tone then looked back at him.

“Bill! We all warned you she wouldn’t put up with your bullshit forever. You should’ve known this was comin’ bud.”

“Bu’ I... I... love her,” he blurted, then stared at Frank, eyes wide, part horrified, part terrified.

“Got a strange way of showin’ it, Bill. Picking other women over her, until you decide it’s time to hook up. Surprised she’s stood for it so long!”

Billy swayed slightly in his garden chair, just staring back at him, nodding repetitively like a bobble head every so often.

“I gotta get her back, Frankie.”

“Whooo,” Frank huffed out a big breath, “well, ya always did like to choose the impossible missions, Russo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were beginning to understand what having a stalker was like.

When you left work the following day, the first person you spotted on the sidewalk outside your office building was Billy Russo.

You hesitated, shocked, then nodded and said quietly, “Hi Billy,” before continuing your short walk to the subway.

He fell into step alongside you. “M’gonna show you just how much I care about you,” you heard, then he was gone. Just gone, into the crowd of commuters around you.

That was just the beginning. Every morning, one single rose of the palest pearly pink would be delivered to your office, laying in a swirl of black chiffon within a silver gift box.

Texts would drop into your phone at unexpected hours. “Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. I love you, Y/N.”

The first time you saw those words, you nearly dropped your phone. What the....?

Gourmet meals and bottles of rosé prosecco would be delivered to your door, precisely 30 minutes after you’d get home. Was he watching you or something? A little shiver ran up your spine. He was still a sniper, after all.

You would catch glimpses of Billy when you left the office, and outside your apartment. Without a shadow of a doubt, he meant you to see him, he would never be so visible on a real surveillance job. But he didn’t ever approach you.

Then you got your dream job. You, Karen and a bunch of your colleagues went to your regular bar after work for a quick celebration. There was a toast proposed to your new job at one point, and one of your male colleagues grabbed you in a friendly bear hug after they’d all shouted “Cheers!”

You were looking past his arm as he hugged you, and found yourself staring into Billy Russo’s dark eyes. Casually dressed, he was leaning on a high table near the door, a beer in front of him.

Billy lazily pushed back from his table, strode over to you, swiped you out of the guy’s arms, wrapped his own arms round you and planted a kiss on your temple, with a nonchalant, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Karen, who had heard all about your last encounter with Billy, looked thunderstruck. You’d be getting interrogated later, that was for sure.

He, meanwhile, landed another kiss right next to your lips and said, “See you later at home,” giving you a quick squeeze before walking off.

Your female colleagues meanwhile were swooning over Billy, one of them commenting that she wasn’t surprised you’d kept so damn quiet about your hot boyfriend. You gave Karen a meaningful look and just smiled back at them all, neither confirming nor denying anything.

However the feeling of Billy’s body against yours, the delicious smell of him, his lips on your skin, had set your heart racing at a dangerous speed. You really did try to push those thoughts aside.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Flopping down onto your sofa when you got home, you laid your head back on it and thought about that evening. As expected, Karen had questioned you ruthlessly as you left the bar together, like the perceptive investigative reporter she was.

Talking as you walked to the subway, you’d given her every detail of all the deliveries, glimpses of him and texts you’d received in the last few days. Karen had stopped walking, looking at you in surprise. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about all of this before now? Hell, Frank told me he had some crazy plan to win you back, but I never really thought...” her voice trailed off.

“Is it working?” she asked next. “Mmmm, yes and no, to be honest,” you said. “Don’t let it!” she said firmly, “This is what he should have been doing all along, instead of treating you like a total afterthought.”

You nodded, “Can’t argue with ya on that,” you agreed. “Is he going to turn up at your place, d’you think?” she asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” you laughed, “I think that was Billy giving me a heads-up.”

So as you’d been 90% expecting, the familiar knock at the door came about 15 minutes after you’d got back. You got up and after checking the peephole, sighed and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”

This was like déjà vu. Billy brushed past you and sat himself down on the sofa, in the same pose as the last time. Head down, hair falling forward and hiding his eyes from you. This time, you bit the bullet and sat at the opposite end, leaning against the armrest so you were facing him.

“Well, Billy.... leaving aside the stalkerish overtones, I guess I should thank you for the roses, gourmet meals and prosecco.”

He swung his head towards you, eyes wide. “They were just to get your attention. Frankie told me it’s what I shoulda been doin’ anyway, all along.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

Billy heaved out a big sigh, head dropping. “I know I’ve been a complete shit to you, Y/N. Took you for granted.” He met your eyes again, “Truth is, I was fallin’ in love with you, and I really didn’t know how to handle it. I thought it was... just sex to you, so I... I was a coward and tried to ignore it, and acted like I didn’t give a shit about you. I just couldn’t have you kick me to the curb if I told you how I felt.”

You were genuinely shocked - Billy had never talked about his feelings before. You’d accepted this in the past, telling yourself it was due to his upbringing in the system.

“So you meant what you said in your daily texts, then?”

He nodded, still looking straight at you, “Yeah...I meant it, I do love you, Y/N.” Then he quickly looked down again.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d leant along the sofa and your fingers were pushing that silky hair off his forehead. He looked up at you, taking hold of your wrist and kissing your pulse point softly. You stood up, saying “C’mere, you,” and took hold of his hand, pulling him up along with you.

He put his arms round you, burying his face into your hair and just holding you. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed, “What?! Even though you hadn’t seen me for weeks before the night you landed on my doorstep?!”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me I’ve been a complete prick. I’ll be honest, I think it took me seein’ you with that guy, and him actin’ like you were his, to give me that kick up the ass I needed.” The dark eyes looked down at you, and he sniffed, “He still around?” You shook your head.

“Nah. I think he thought I was completely insane for still being with you.”

Billy laughed, “Maybe he’s right....” he looked at you, serious again. “You willin’ to give me another chance, Y/N? I promise you I’ll do it right this time. The whole dating thing, asking you to be my girlfriend after three dates, all that stuff... everything.”

“Everything? Like, what if I say no sex to start with? And no running off to other women to scratch that itch? You’ll swear to all that? Really?!”

“I swear to you, on my Ka-Bar.”

“Wow,” you said, knowing that the knife was never out of Billy’s possession. It was an integral part of him. Maybe he was serious after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A small kiss on your cheek woke you the next morning. Those eyes, those dark liquid pools, stared into yours, while a thumb ran over your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” smiling down at you. Reaching up, you ran your fingers into his hair, moving it off his forehead. “Morning, sweetheart,” you echoed, smiling back.

You and Billy had shared a bed but nothing else, except hugs and hand-holding. You were in your PJ’s - well, camisole top with matching shorts - and all Billy had on were his boxer briefs. You couldn’t deny you’d had thoughts of just leaping on him during the night... let’s face it, he was one hot dude. And he knew how to ‘look after’ a woman in bed, as he himself put it.

But no, you were determined he was gonna have to work for it, just like he promised he would. So you’d had to show some self-discipline, well, a lot of it, actually. He’d passed the first test - he’d actually stayed all night. Usually he was gone before the morning light stole through the curtains.

Now, he kissed your bare shoulder and leapt out of bed, like he was back in the Marines. He stood still for a moment, sideways next to the bed, having a leisurely full body stretch. Billy knew full well you’d be totally enjoying the view. A little tease from him to remind you what you were missing.

The sunlight, which stole through a small gap between your curtains in the otherwise dim room, picked out the sculpted muscles on his back & torso. Then he turned slightly more, ensuring you wouldn’t miss seeing the hard-on he was currently sporting. You shook your head, with a slight smile on your lips. The cocky big bastard.

“Where you off to, Billy?” you asked, thinking to yourself, if he’s headed to Anvil, he can fucking shove his second cha......

“I’m gonna make my beautiful almost-girlfriend a cup of good Italian coffee.”

You smiled at his departing back as he disappeared out of the bedroom. “Oh, Billy?”

His voice drifted back through from the kitchen, “Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can I please get some toast with that, too?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You stretched luxuriously, nestling your head into your pillows.

Looked like you were going to find out what having a panther on a leash was like.

[breanime]

Bre’s boys preference for lingerie shopping?

warning: slightly steamy

Billy Russo: Billy considers it a date. He’s shameless of his ogling of you, sitting in the dressing room with his legs spread wide as you model different sets for him. He called ahead and rented out the whole boutique--no one gets to see you like this but him. Billy gets champagne and pours you glass after glass, sipping his as he watches you strut in front of him, getting harder by the second. He picks out all of the sets he has you model, wanting to see you in all different cuts and colors. He ends up buying almost everything you wear, and yes--he fucks you in the dressing room. Twice. The first set he actually rips up in his hastiness, and he buys it and leaves a hefty tip. 

Logan Delos: Oh man. Logan is in hog heaven. He doesn’t bother renting the place out because he knows that no one else will look half as good as you do. Logan actually makes it a thing, lingerie shopping with you. Every time the two of you go on a vacation, he finds the best (read: expensive) boutique in town and takes you there. It’s nothing to him to spend four figures on lingerie--knowing good and damn well that he’s going to destroy most of them. If he really likes a particular set on you, he’ll buy multiples because he knows he’s going to end up ripping them or biting them to pieces or cumming all over the fancy fabric. He also likes to have you pick out your favorites so he knows what kinds you like--he buys you lingerie for Valentine’s Day every year. 

Jax Teller: Jax is a simple man, and so he never really thought he was into lingerie...until he saw you wear it. Now Jax is taking you lingerie shopping every fucking month, finding new pieces that fit your curves perfectly. And don’t think for a SECOND that the Prince of Charming isn’t spending dough on custom sets of SAMCRO lingerie, because he most definitely is. And when you bend down, letting him see the Reaper covering your most delicate area... he almost blows his load just from the look of you. Jax learns pretty quickly that you plus lingerie is a match made in heaven. 

Coco Cruz: He wants you in all white. Like, he’s dropping all kinds of white lingerie sets in your lap as he goes around the store--wearing his kutte--because you’re his angel and he likes seeing you in all white, looking all innocent while being sexy as hell. Coco actually has pretty good taste in lingerie, and he picks out a lot of really nice sets for you. His favorite color on you besides white is light pink, and he may or may not sneak into the dressing room with you and let you blow him (he does. he definitely does). When you get home, he strips you down carefully, making sure not to damage your (skimpy) clothing because he wants to reuse it. You just look too damn good--he wants to get at least four or five wears out of it. 

Angel Reyes: He goes in the dressing room with you, his confident smirk daring anyone to try and stop him. He helps you into the lingerie, complimenting you while his hands are all over your body, and then... he helps you out of it. You and Angel make it a thing: you pick out a set, he dresses you in it, and then he fucks you a little bit in it before you move on to the next piece. He’s not an animal, so he purchases all the sets his penis has touched, and he takes pictures of you in ti, laughing heartily as you pose for him. Shopping with Angel is always a lot of fun. 

Miguel Galindo: Miguel doesn’t bother renting out a boutique. Instead, he pays the designer and seamstress to come to his place. He already has a vision for what he wants you to wear, but he discusses it with you first, making any adjustments that you ask for. He’s with you, dark eyes staring at your exposed body as they take measurements, a small smile on his face. It takes a few days to get the final product, but that’s okay--the wait is half the fun. Once the sets come in, you treat Miguel to a private show, and he enjoys every last second of it. He was patient before, but he isn’t as he tears each piece off of you, ripping the threads and laughing as the fine fabric falls apart in his hands. He devours you, and once it’s done, he’ll smile and ask if you’d like to get some new lingerie to replace the ones he destroyed. You eagerly say yes. 

Nick Amaro: Nick takes you out of town to get lingerie. He likes the anonymity as well as the variety that way. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you shop, his mind conjuring up images of you dressed in every piece his eyes land on. He prefers you in a one-piece set, likes that he is exposed to so much and yet not enough of you. He likes the wait, likes to tease himself as he watches you. Nick has excellent self control, so even though he’s completely hard, he waits until you two get home to pounce. 

Johnny Tuturro: Has the time of his life! Johnny wants you to try on everything, wants to see you in all colors and cuts, wants to see how your body--the body that he adores and cherishes so much--looks in different sets. Price is no object to him when it comes to buying his pretty girl lingerie, especially since he knows that everything you buy, he’ll love. He actually keeps it together long enough to get you home, but once you are home, he can’t even wait for you to pick a lingerie set to model for him before he’s on you. 

Rio: Rio reserves private time at the best boutique in town, and he requests that the seamstress is there in case you need any modifications on a piece. Both of you wander around the shop and pick out a handful of pieces, and Rio sits, smirking, as you model each and every one for him. He keeps his hands to himself, clasped in his lap as his dark eyes stare over at you, but you can see the growing tent in his pants as he stares. He adores you in black, after you model a few black pieces for him, he’s out of his seat and across the room, pressing you against the wall as he kisses you, his hands traveling the curves of your body. “Okay,” he chuckles, breathless, “I think it’s time we take to our bedroom... Let’s head out, mama.”

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25​  @mrsjaxtellerfan​  @rhabakoli​  @encounterthepast​ @realduckvader​   @justvnash​ @knowles-morgan  @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19  @nyxxnoxx​ @carlaangel86  @luminex3 @jigsawlover10  @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart  @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals @amethyst09 @falsehopesndreams  @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @witchygagirl @glimmerglittergirl @nich0lasmatthews  @ben-c-group-therapy​  

[ofstarsandvibranium]

No More Unhappy Birthdays

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Billy Russo x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: Billy Russo has never had a “happy” birthday until you entered his life.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEN BARNES!!

“Baby, c’mon, what is this?” Billy asks when you drag him to a bar.

“I know it’s your birthday,” you watch Billy’s shoulders tense and as soon as he’s about to ask how you found out, you reply, “Frank told me.”

Billy frowns, “God dammit, Frank.” He sighs and shook his head, “Babe, you don’t have to worry about my birthday. It’s not a big deal.”

It was your turn to shake your head, “Yes, it is. The day you were born should be a happy one!”

Billy continues to frown, “I wasn’t even supposed to be born, Y/N. I was a mistake made by my druggie mother and some John she must’ve pulled from the streets. She’s not happy I was born, why should I?”

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso and looking at him, “Well, I’m happy you were born. If you weren’t, I’d never have met the love of my life. I’d never have found this overwhelming sense of happiness. Hell, I probably would’ve never found someone as amazing as you in bed!” You say jokingly, making him chuckle, “If you don’t want to celebrate your birthday, we don’t have to. We can just treat this outing as another date. Nothing special.”

Billy leans in and kisses your lips, “Everything is special whenever you’re around.”

You snort and poke his stomach, “Alright, smooth talker. Now, are we gonna have some fun at this club, or what?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Lead the way, babe.” He lets you take his hand and pulls you straight into the entrance after you whisper your name to the bouncer. How you’re able to get in with ease, he has no idea, but at least he doesn’t have to wait in line like everyone else.

You continue to drag him to the bar counter, slapping down some pills and yelling over the music, “Four shots of tequila, please!”

Billy leans against the counter and snorts, “Shots already?”

You shrugged, “Let’s just get loose!” As soon as the bartender fills the shot glasses, you hand two to Billy and you take your two. You both down them, slapping each glass down onto the counter. You then thank the bartender and grab Billy once more, “Let’s dance!”

Billy never really danced or let loose. He was always so reserved and refrained from doing anything that could rain his reputation. But as he stood in the middle of a sea of dancing bodies, listening to the pounding music, he thought ‘What the hell, right?’

He begins to just move his body to the music, mostly watching you as your body just seems to be in tune with whatever the dj is playing. You look so carefree and he wonders how you’re able to be that way so quickly. Billy likes to stay sharp and professional when he’s out in public, but he knows no one would be able to recognize him with the club’s poor lighting and people in their drunken haze.

You notice the apprehension still in Billy. You take his hands in set them on your hips, “Come on, Russo. Let loose!” You continue to sway your hips and bob your head to the bass, guiding Billy.

You see that hint of a smile and the tenseness in his shoulders begins to decipate. Soon enough, his body isn’t so stiff and rigid. Instead, he’s moving to the beat, doing some weird movements that look like a mix of dancing and fighting??? You laugh and Billy beams at the sound. He adores your laugh.

The night continues on this way, more drinks, more dancing, more letting loose on the dance floor. Billy has never felt so free in a public space before. By the time you call it quits, it’s nearing 11 in the evening. You and Billy, covered in sweat, pile into an Uber and head back to your now shared apartment.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Join me?” Billy asks as he heads towards the bathroom.

“Wait!” He pauses and watches as you pull out a small box from the fridge as well as a lighter and candle.

“Y/N-“

“Please? Just let me sing happy birthday to you? Just this once?” Your giving him that look, that look that he knows will make him give into you. He gives you a nod and walks over to you in the kitchen.

You pull out a small cupcake and place the candle on top. As soon as you light it, you sing the famous “Happy Birthday” song softly to him. The entire time, he’s staring at you and you’re staring at him. And he realizes this is the first time he’s ever truly enjoyed his birthday.

“Make a wish, Billy.” You mutter softly. With his eyes still on you, he leans in a gently blows the candle out, “You don’t have to eat if if you don’t want to.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” He has you set the cupcake down and he laces his fingers with yours, “Can I tell you something?” You nod and he continues, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever truly enjoyed my birthday.” He sees a change in your eyes and he shakes your head, “Please don’t pity me. All I’m saying is that I’m really grateful to have you in my life now, Y/N. And I know that as long as you’re in my life, all of my birthdays will be happy. ‘Cause you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, baby.”

“Aaawww,” You cup his face and press a kiss to his lips, “Happy birthday, Billy. I love you.”

“Thank you, Y/N and I love you too.”

[carry-the-sky]

so delicate the bones

Five months since the hospital. Five months of hearing about him on the news, reading about his exploits in the paper, and unlike the last time he came back from the dead, none of it is speculation now. Frank Castle, the Punisher—

She sees that goddamn skull wherever she looks.

kastlesmutweek 2019 || tantalizing tuesday // ‘i need a place to stay’ + bed-sharing (or couch-sharing, in this case)

+ the following prompts from @spaceismymuse​: the cold, sharp smell of the first frost / the smell of blood / the feeling of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade

also on ao3!

This is the stupidest thing she’s ever done.

The thought buzzes in her skull, or maybe it’s just the sedan shuddering as she hits another rut in the road. Karen tightens her grip on the steering wheel. In five-point-two miles, your destination will be on the right, her GPS had assured her almost half an hour ago.

She flicks her eyes towards it now, tracking the snaking blue route line and the coordinates it leads to. Something constricts beneath her ribs. 

One thing at a time, Karen. Current priority is to not die on this back-country forest service road.

Said road — a very relative term for the narrow, winding stretch of gravel she’s currently white-knuckling her way up — switchbacks sharply, and Karen pumps the brakes. “Shit,” she hisses, and the back tires protest, spinning against dirt, before catching again. 

Stupid. This whole thing is so, so stupid.  

The trees are starting to thin, and between them Karen catches glances of frost-swept hills that arc against a clear, cold sky. She’s reminded sharply of home, how quiet everything was beneath that first blanket of fresh-fallen snow. Maybe that’s why Frank’s here.

Frank.

Five months since the hospital. Five months of hearing about him on the news, reading about his exploits in the paper, and unlike the last time he came back from the dead, none of it is speculation now. Frank Castle, the Punisher—

She sees that goddamn skull wherever she looks.

“In point-seven miles, your destination will be on the right,” the GPS chirps. Her stomach churns, a mixture of nerves from the drive and uncertainty about what’s waiting for her at the end of that thin blue line. Her eyes ricochet between it and the road, heart kicking in her chest as the number of miles slowly drops— point-two miles, point-one— 

There. Nestled a short distance back in the trees is a small cabin. It looks cozy enough, with its snow-dusted roof and smoke curling up from the chimney, and that’s what gives her pause, her foot sliding over the brake pedal and slowing the car to a stop. It’s too cozy. Very much the opposite of Frank. 

Karen’s considering the possibility of turning around, driving out back the way she came and attempting to forget this whole thing, when the cabin’s front door swings open.

It’s him. She’d recognize that stance, those sloping shoulders, anywhere. Even from this distance, she can see that he’s let his hair and beard grow out. 

He hesitates a moment, then lifts an arm in greeting.

Karen’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry.

.

The cabin is— nice. Really nice. When Frank had called her a couple days ago, asking to meet and giving her these coordinates, she’d pictured him holing up in a shack somewhere. She’d pictured guns and a dingy mattress, not a fully-furnished living room and pictures on the walls.

“Lieberman?” she asks, inspecting the closest photo. David and his family, she’s assuming. All four of them are laughing, looking at each other and not at the camera.

“Yeah,” Frank says. He’s watching her in that way he does, like he can see every thought rattling around in her head. “His place. Mostly uses it in the summer, with the kids. He, uh, didn’t approve of my last apartment. Called it a ‘murder lair’.”

Karen laughs. “Sounds like a smart guy.”

“Too smart,” Frank snorts, but he’s grinning. Karen thinks abruptly of the photo of him at the carousel, arm slung around Maria and Frank, Jr., Lisa’s bright smile, all teeth.

It’s a little strange, seeing him smile now. The thought makes her sad.

“You want a beer?” he asks.

“Please,” she says, settling herself on the couch in the living room.

She lets her gaze follow him as he moves around the kitchen with the fluidity of someone who’s comfortable with this routine. He seems so at ease, so calm. Something just sideways of anger simmers under her skin— hadn’t she offered him this? A normal life, a way out, together? Somewhere, somewhen, it could’ve happened. There was only one problem—

I don’t want that. 

“You find the place okay?” Frank asks, returning with the beers.

“Okay enough,” she says. “I used to drive roads like these all the time back home. Guess the city’s made me soft.”

"Where’s home?”

"Middle of nowhere, Vermont.”

She doesn’t elaborate, her unspoken question filling the silence that follows. Why am I here, Frank?

He takes the hint.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. “For the hospital. I shut you out, after you stuck your neck out for me. I’m sorry, Karen.”

She just looks at him for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him fidgeting, his knee bouncing. “I can handle rejection, Frank,” she says. “We’re not in high school. What disappointed me was the reason why.” She hears how tight her voice sounds, and takes a breath before continuing. “You know, you know how I feel about— what you do. You deserve more, Frank. We both do.”

It feels good, saying all of this, feels good knowing hers aren’t the only heavy shoulders in the room. Frank’s been thinking about this. He’s been thinking about her. 

“I thought—” his eyes dart away, then back. “I thought the war was what I wanted. Thought I needed it, yeah? I needed it, wasn’t myself without it. There’s a part of me still buried in that desert, Karen. I need you to understand that. That’s the part I gotta live without. Thing is— the thing is, I didn’t think I could ever be Frank Castle again. He died that day in Central Park, right, every last bit of him, dead, gone. I had to be someone else. I had to be. Putting on that vest— it was a choice, but it was more than that. It was a necessity. That vest kept me alive, Karen. I know how batshit that sounds, I know it, but—” his eyes bore straight into hers, as if willing her to understand what he’s saying. “That’s why I shut you out. You make it so goddamn easy to forget, Karen. When I’m— when I’m with you, it’s hard to remember that Frank Castle’s dead.”

He’s watching her so intently she feels like she might split in half beneath the weight of his gaze. The beer is long-forgotten in her hand; she feels the condensation, now, beads of it slicking her palms.

“You’re not—” she swallows, hard. “You’re still—”

“Still the Punisher, yeah.”

“So where does that leave us, Frank?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his face darkening. “I don’t know, Karen.” 

For a horrible, swollen moment, she wants to yell at him. She wants to scream at the top of her lungs, scream until her throat burns. They’re right back where they’ve always been— the skull in one hand, Frank Castle in the other, and yeah, maybe asking him to choose between the two is unfair, but so is this—

Karen blows out a breath and the fury follows, gone as quickly as it hit.  

“Well,” she sighs, waving her beer bottle, “looks like we’re we’re gonna need something stronger than this to figure it out.”

.

The rest of the night is a honey-colored blur. Frank discovers a bottle of Jack stashed in the cabinet above the sink, and they pass it back and forth as the sun dips low in the sky. Karen starts to feel it halfway through her third glass, warm and tilty like the world’s slightly off its axis. City-living has made her soft — she’s a fucking lightweight, now — but if Frank notices, he doesn’t say anything.

They skirt the nebulous, looming elephant in the room, and instead take turns filling in the blanks from the past year. Matt, Billy Russo, a copycat Daredevil, a leaked NSA disc, the attack on the Bulletin — Frank’s knuckles go white, gripping his glass.

“Don’t,” Karen warns, just as he’s opening his mouth to say something. “You’ve apologized to me once already, Frank, and I appreciate it, but you don’t need to again.”

Frank laughs harshly. “That’s bullshit, Karen. I should’ve been here, I should’ve been here for you.”

She hesitates a moment, neither agreeing or arguing. “You mean a lot to me, Frank,” she says. “But I don’t rely on you. I can’t. Every time you come back into my life, I wonder if it’s the last time.”

Frank tilts a glance up at her, his face a tangle of emotion. Suddenly self-conscious, Karen tears her eyes away and turns to look out the window. It’s now completely dark outside; even if she wasn’t on the other side of tipsy, there’s no way in hell she’d attempt to drive down that road in the middle of the night.

Frank must read something in her expression, because he crosses the room and starts digging something out of the hall closet. When he returns, Karen sees a pile of blankets in his arms.

“You sure?” she asks, hesitant. It’s not like either of them planned this, but it still feels like they’re stepping over a line.

“C’mon, Karen.” Frank jerks his chin towards the couch. “I’ll sleep out here. Bed’s too soft for me, anyways.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Karen says, or tries to, before her words dissolve into a cavernous yawn. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until now. 

“Bedroom’s just through there,” Frank says, gesturing down the hall.

“Thanks.” Her body’s moving before she can talk herself out of it, rocking up from the couch to lean in and kiss him softly on the cheek. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Night,” he rasps, low in his throat. He’s so close she can taste the Jack when he exhales, can see the flecks of green in his eyes. Her pulse is thunder in her ears. She should move away, she should move away now—

“Karen,” he breathes, and a warmth entirely unrelated to her buzz unfurls in the pit of her stomach. She wants to hear him say her name again. She wants to kiss him, and so she does, pressing her lips firmly to his.

This, this right here, is the stupidest thing she’s ever done, but she can’t bring herself to care, not when he’s kissing her back. His mouth is softer than she expects, but she doesn’t want soft. Emboldened, she snags his lower lip between her teeth and nips.

He hisses through his teeth, pulls away, and her stomach plummets. She fucked it up, how did she fuck it up already—

But then she looks up. He’s staring at her in a way he never has before, with a wild hunger that sends a thrill skittering down her spine. He’s looking at her like he wants to pull her apart, make her beg for it.

“You sure about this?” he says, rough like he’s having trouble breathing. “You’re in charge here, Karen—”

She responds by kissing him again. He tastes like Jack, smoky-sweet, and she slides her tongue past his teeth. He groans low in his throat; the slow-moving heat in her belly erupts, and she digs her nails into his shoulder. The other hand darts to his belt.

Frank follows her lead. His fingers move deftly, making quick work of the belt and his pants, and then his hands are at her waist, tugging softly at her sweater. She wrenches it over her head, and his hands slide over her bare skin, splayed just beneath her ribs. She can feel his hesitance, the uncertainty in his touch. Something flickers in the back of her mind, a small warning voice. They’ve crossed a lot of lines together, but not this. Never this. She’s not sure how either of them will come out the other side unscathed.

He’s watching her carefully, pupils blasted wide and his lips slightly parted. There’s a bruise blossoming across his temple, dark circles smudged under his eyes. Familiar landmarks.

Karen reaches up and draws her fingers softly against his cheek. His eyes shutter closed at her touch, his breath swooping out in a shaky burst, and her heart clenches. She meant what she’d said— she can’t, and won’t, expect anything from him after this, but right now—

Frank opens his eyes. Okay? they seem to ask.

She nods softly. Okay. 

They come together again, slowly this time. His hands cradle her waist and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto the couch with her. His mouth is everywhere, taking his time, lips drifting to the hollow of her cheek, then down, tracing her jawline. She shudders, tipping her head back, and the movement shifts her hips forward, against his thigh.

He growls. In one swift movement, he’s pinning her to the couch, the full-length of him pressing against her. It’s good, it’s better than good, but not enough. She wants more. 

“Off,” she commands, grabbing at his shirt. He wrestles it off and her fingers scrabble at her bra and jeans, tossing both unceremoniously to the floor. Frank settles over her, bearing weight through both his elbows as he stares down at her with a mixture of hunger and awe. One of his hands slips behind her head, his huge palm cupping her skull. The other scours a line of fire down her sternum — she arches as his thumb skims the curve of her breast — and slips under her panties.

God, she wants this. She wraps one leg around Frank’s waist, urging him down, and he complies, pushing himself off the couch and onto the floor as he slowly peels her underwear off. The palm of his hand is hot and firm against her thigh as he slings her leg over his shoulder and lowers his head.

It’s been a while since someone’s touched her like this — more than a while. She spasms as Frank’s teeth graze her inner thigh, and he freezes. He’s got a hand on her leg, still, and his thumb presses softly to the jut of her ankle. A signal-flare, something to say, I’m here.

Karen glides a hand through his hair, tugs gently. I know. I’m okay.

And then his mouth his moving again, his tongue slow and slick. Her heart’s beating so fast she thinks it might burst out of her chest. She screws her eyes shut and tries to breathe. The world narrows, everything going concave— nothing is real beyond Frank and his mouth and the tension winding up in her gut. His tongue is moving faster now, laving up her slick-hot center. It’s too much—

Her orgasm hits like a punch. Karen feels all the breath leave her lungs in a guttural cry, her chest heaving. Frank’s breathing hard too; she pulls at him feebly, and he drags himself up to rest his head against her belly. They stay like this for several moments, her fingers buried in his hair and his breath tickling the plane of her stomach.

He moves first, propping up on his elbows to look at her. “You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.

Karen grins and stretches languorously. “Fuck, yeah, I’m okay.” She slips a hand down and laughs softly when her fingers graze against the firm bulge of his erection through his boxers. “Looks like you’re doing okay, too.”

Frank dips his head and kisses her, slow and deep. “You gonna do somethin’ about that?”

Karen laughs against his mouth, working him free of the boxers. Her hand glides around his dick, stroking the length of it. “On your back, Frank,” she whispers, pushing him down and straddling his waist.

Frank gazes up at her. She can feel him trembling beneath her hands. The Punisher, at her mercy.

“As you wish, ma’am,” Frank says. Karen laughs harder, and gets to work.

.

Some time later, boneless and sweaty and feeling more at peace than she has in a long time, Karen lifts her head to see that Frank’s eyes are shut, his breathing slow and rhythmic. She’s sprawled on top of him on the couch, their bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs. Hardly the most comfortable position to sleep in, but here he is, fast asleep. Karen watches him for a moment, committing the way his face looks in this moment to memory. She can hear his heartbeat, and she closes her eyes, anchoring herself to the sound. She’s here, with Frank, and then she’s floating, falling away.

She’s in her old apartment. It’s exactly how she remembers— white walls, white carpet. A blank slate. It’s exactly the same, except—

There’s a man face-down on the floor, and a smell, sharp and metallic, so strong she’s surprised she didn’t notice it sooner. Her stomach clenches. Something’s wrong, this isn’t— this isn’t her apartment, after all, it can’t be. She turns on her heel and starts towards the front door—

There’s nothing there, nothing but a blank stretch of wall. Heart thudding painfully, she spins in every direction, looking— but the windows are gone, too. Turning slowly, her gaze settles on the man on her floor. There’s something, something like a rusty stain on the carpet, framing his head like a halo. How did she not see it before? 

It’s very important, suddenly, that she see his face. She takes a few cautious steps towards him, nudges his torso with her foot, and when he doesn’t stir she reaches down to tug at his shoulder.

The body flops supine. 

No, this isn’t— this isn’t what happened—

Kevin’s empty eyes are staring up at her.

Karen bolts up, then instantly wishes she hadn’t. Her head pulses, bright spots fuzzing in and out behind her eyes. She blinks once, again, and the living room slowly materializes, dark but splintered with milky sunlight. She’s still on the couch. There’s a blanket, twisted between her legs. Frank—

He’s there, the shape of him slumped against the side of the couch. He must’ve moved in the night, but he didn’t leave.

There’s a lump forming in her throat, pressure stinging behind her eyes. It’s too much, this is too much. She needs some air, she needs to be somewhere else.

Moving as quietly as she can, Karen extricates herself from her blankets and searches in the half-darkness for her clothes. She feels around in vain for a few moments for her sweater, then gives up and pulls her undershirt on over her head. Shivering, Karen snags one of the blankets from the couch, draws it around her shoulders, and slips out the front door.

The smell hits her at once, sharp and crisp in the winter air. There’s a thin layer of frost on the ground, dusting the tips of the trees. It makes everything look softer.

Karen curls onto the chair that’s propped on the porch, flinching as her bare legs graze the cold wood. She wraps the blanket more securely around her. The frosty winter landscape before her, while, beautiful, only serves to remind her once more of Vermont, which reminds her of her brother.

She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. It’s been months since her last nightmare, and of course, of course, the night after she’s been with Frank—

Karen doesn’t believe in things like fate, but it does feel like a cruel coincidence, like the universe is reminding her why she can’t have the things she wants. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be happy. 

“Karen?”

Frank emerges from the cabin, fully-dressed but barefoot. He has a wild, slightly-panicked look in his eyes. Karen feels a stab of guilt. Did he think she would leave without saying goodbye?

“Hey,” she says simply.

“Are you—” he shifts his weight between his feet, rubbing his arms. “Are you okay? It’s fuckin’ freezing out here—”

“I had a bad dream. Just needed to get some air.”

He nods, but doesn’t press her. She feels a swell of gratitude. Of all people, Frank understands.

They’re both quiet for a beat. Frank’s still shuffling between his feet, so Karen looks at him and says, “You should go back inside before you get frostbite. I’m okay, I promise.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but seems to decide it’s better if he doesn’t. “Okay,” he says, holding her eyes for a second before turning and going back inside.

She’s not sure how long she stays outside. Her thoughts blur, hazy like the thin scattering of clouds in the sky. Finally, aware that she’s starting to lose feeling in her lower extremities, she stands and pulls the cabin door open.

Frank is sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, but he snaps his eyes up at the sound of her coming back inside. Karen moves towards him and settles herself beside him on the couch.

“Hey,” she says again.

“Hey,” he echoes.

She drops her eyes to her hands. The silence that stretches between them isn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s heavy, full of all the things they should and need to say in the aftermath of the previous night.

“So,” she begins, and feels him tense beside her. “Last night.”

When she glances sideways at him, she sees that he’s squeezing his hands together, his knee jittering up and down. She leans over and folds a hand over his, squeezing gently. “Last night was amazing, Frank.”  

His leg stills. “It was, yeah,” he agrees, the corners of his mouth turning up. His eyes search her face, then drift lower, to where the blanket that’s still around her shoulders has slid off her shoulder. He reaches up and drags his thumb across her bare skin. “Will you stay?” he asks, softly.

“You want me to?”

Frank snorts. His thumb is still moving in lazy circles over her shoulder. “Think you know the answer to that.”

“I do, but I want to hear you say it, Frank.”

He dips his head, presses his lips to her bare shoulder. “I want you to stay, Karen.”

She tucks a finger under his chin, lifting it so she can kiss him gently. “I’ll stay, then.”

There’s more to say, but for now, this is enough.

[banditthewriter]

Welcome Home - Billy Russo

Prompt: Can you write a fic where Billy comes home from the marines to surprise his girlfriend while she’s at work or out with friends or something? I’ve been watching those military homecoming videos recently and they make me cry so much Prompter: @iblogabout-stuff

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

“Day one hundred and sixty five,” you said as you ticked off another day on the calendar.

Billy's deployment would be at least six months, maybe more. You hated when he was gone, but you were so proud of him.

He had told you that this might be his last deployment and you couldn't help the happiness you felt at the thought. As much as you were proud of your Marine boyfriend, you'd be happier when you didn't have to worry about him getting hurt while he was overseas.

The bed felt cold and empty when he was gone but you knew it would be worth it to have him in your arms again.

Your friends had come together to plan a day of getting you out of the apartment. They were worried about you. But not just you.

You did feel a little better that they were dragging Maria out as well. She had been just as hard to get out of the house as you had.

Granted she had two kids, but you meant more in a social way rather than chauffeuring her kids around.

The bar you all were going to was one you had gone to with Billy, Maria, and Frank more than just a few times. Hell, you had a regular drink order there. It had been Ali’s idea to go there and while you had pouted at the memories that immediately assailed you, you agreed.

Drinks with the ladies would be in a few hours so you went through your usual Saturday routine. You checked your emails, replied to any that required immediate attention. The television played in the background as you did laundry and ate cereal for lunch.

If you weren’t going out, you’d put on sweats or one of Billy’s shirts and curl up on the couch for a few hours. There were a stack of books on the coffee table that you wanted to read but you missed reading with Billy during the long days before his deployment.

There were so many memories of Billy in the apartment. Most days you were desensitized to the memories but for some reason they were brighter and hurt more today.

A knock at the door startled you. You glanced at the clock and saw that you had plenty of time before you were to meet with the girls. That in mind, you moved over to the door and pulled it open without checking the peep hole.

“Maria,” you said in surprise as you opened the door a little wider to one of your best friends. “I thought we were all meeting at seven?”

“We are. I just got antsy,” she said as she walked in, stopping to give you a quick hug. “Did you open the door without checking who it was? I think somewhere, Billy just got a migraine.”

You laughed and shut the door behind her. Both of you moved over to the couch and sat down.

“Yeah, I thought about that right as I did it.”

Maria gave a soft smile that you recognized immediately.

“They’ll be home soon,” you said as you reached out to grasp her hand.

She laughed and shook her head as if she was being silly. You watched her wipe her eyes before she met your gaze.

“It wouldn’t be the first time they extended their deployment. You know that as well as I do.”

You hadn’t been with Billy as long as Maria had been with Frank, but this wasn’t the first deployment that you both had been there for. You knew you wouldn’t have made it through without Maria so you were more than willing to be her support right then.

“I know, but we can’t think like that. The what ifs are just going to drive you crazy. And Frank wouldn’t want that for you. Neither of them would want that for us.”

She leaned into your shoulder and you felt her heave a sigh. She knew you were right. It was something she had said to you almost verbatim during the first deployment you had been around for.

“Wanna watch crappy TV before we head out?”

She gave you a smile before she nodded. You leaned into her a little more and flicked the sound up a little higher before you settled in for the time being.

------

The bar wasn’t as crowded as you had expected for a Saturday evening. Alison had positioned you and Maria at a table and the rest of the group sat down with you. It was strange, but Ali was the kind of girl that liked to do things in a certain way.

They were probably just wanting to make sure the two of you had support and enough distractions tonight.

Two drinks in, Ali was checking her phone every few seconds. It wasn’t too unusual because she was on about six different dating apps, but you almost wanted to call her out on it. She usually was the one that called for everyone to put their phones away when you were together.

“How much longer until the men get home?” It was one of your other friends, Sandra, that asked that question softly.

“Another three weeks at least,” Maria said sullenly as she pushed her drink away.

“It could always be longer,” you explained as you gripped Maria’s hand. “It wouldn’t be the first time the government messed things up.”

Ali grinned at her phone before she looked up at the two of you. Her smile grew wider for a second before she tried to lessen it a bit.

“I know you both really miss the guys. And I just know that when they come back, it’ll be a wonderful moment.”

Before you could say anything, you heard someone clearing their throat behind you. You turned your head to glance and see if maybe your chair was blocking the way and immediately froze.

“Billy?”

He was standing in his uniform and once you realized that you were not hallucinating, you squealed and launched yourself out of your chair over to him. You heard applause and the sound of people “aww”ing as well as another squeal, but you couldn’t see anything but the man in your arms.

“You’re home?” You pulled back to meet his eyes and he tugged you into a kiss before you could say anything else.

The kiss made you melt into him even more, his hands wrapped around you being the only thing keeping you up it felt like.

“I’m home,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “We both are.”

You pulled back and glanced to the side to see Frank and Maria wrapped up in each other just a few feet away. Maria was crying, her shoulders shaking. Frank met your eyes and gave you a smile as he hugged his wife tighter.

You looked back at Billy and wiped tears out of your eyes as you asked, “How?”

“Got rotated back early. Frank reached out to Ali because we wanted to surprise the two of you.”

With a gasp, you whirled around to face Ali and the girls who were all staring at you with tears in their eyes. And their phones up to show that they had definitely been filming that moment.

“Thank you,” you called to her before you turned back to Billy. “I can’t believe you’re home. You’re here.”

He tilted your face up and pressed a kiss to your lips that made your eyes start to tear up again. There was so much emotion brewing in you as you held on tight to him, your fingers wrapped in his jacket.

“We’ll get together tomorrow or Monday,” Frank said from off to the side, drawing your attention away from Billy. “I’d stick around but I want to get home and see the kids.”

You separated from Billy long enough to wrap Frank in a hug. You could see Maria doing the same to Billy, her hands on his cheeks before she gave him a tight hug. Frank squeezed you tight and pulled back to look down at you for a moment.

“It’s good to see you again Y/N,” he said as he gave you another brief hug. “I hope you guys don’t mind, but I really wanna go hug my kids.”

“Go,” you said as you pushed him over to Maria. Even Billy was smiling at the two of them. “We’ll meet up, all of us. There’s no rush.”

Once the Castles were gone, you could see that the rest of your table had mostly meandered off to leave you and Billy alone. You looked up at him, tears still in your eyes.

You’d missed him so much.

“Do you want to get something to eat? Or would you prefer to go home and shower? Sleep maybe?”

He tugged you in, tilting your head up to give you a kiss that made your toes curl in your shoes.

“I’d rather take you home and show you how much I missed you.”

You swallowed and gave him a quick nod, your breaths coming in shorter in anticipation.

Neither of you could get out of the bar fast enough.

------

The sound of the shower made you smile as you made your way to the kitchen. After a very eventful evening at home and then a solid nine hours of sleep, Billy had finally gotten up to shower. You wanted to go ahead and start breakfast—well, lunch at this point—so that he could have something to eat once he was out of the shower.

While you waited for the stove to heat up, you looked at the calendar that hung on the wall nearby. The dates were checked off, aimed towards one that had a little dot in the corner.

You hadn’t felt comfortable circling the date that he was supposed to be coming home because you felt like it would jinx it. And the thought of him not coming home when you missed him so much had nearly broken you before.

Hands fell to your hips and a pair of lips brushed your cheek, breaking you from your daze. You hadn’t even heard the water turn off.

“Morning,” he mumbled against your neck as he placed another kiss there.

His hands were roaming your sides and lower. You slapped at his hand with a spatula and laughed as you craned your neck to meet his eyes.

“You need to eat,” you said with a laugh as he pouted. At your words, he started to grin wider and you rolled your eyes. “Food, you insatiable man. You need real food. Or do you miss MREs already?”

“Low blow,” he teased as he pulled back. He followed the direction you had been staring and looked over the calendar with interest as you went back to making lunch.

Just yesterday you had been thinking about how much you missed him being here. His presence had always felt so tangible in the apartment and now he was there. You could reach out and touch him, prove that it hadn’t just been a very good dream.

With lunch cooking, you stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Me too,” he mumbled as he leaned in to kiss you again, pressing you back against the fridge.

Lunch was going to get cold but you didn’t care. You were just happy to have Billy back in your arms.

X

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[something-tofightfor]

Before the Beginning: The Constant

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader, Billy Russo x Madani (....)

Word Count: 3600 (is anyone really surprised?)

Rating: M (language, sexual situations) 

Author’s Note: Again, we jump back into Billy’s mind... which I have no rights to, and Reader’s mind... which is a little more open to interpretation. Interesting. I hope you enjoy. This is for @ooo-barff-ooo, who sent me a strongly worded ask a while ago. Hope she enjoys. 

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Reader POV:

 As you sipped your iced coffee, you scrolled through the pictures on your phone, trying to find the will to delete them. You didn’t have pictures from dates or events like the other women that Billy had ‘dated’; all of the images you were thumbing through were much more intimate in nature, which somehow made things worse. There were pictures of the two of you tangled together on your couch, his lips on your neck, long hair hanging over his eyes and a satisfied smile on your face. There were pictures of you in bed - his dark hair standing out against your sheets, his body almost illuminated in the low light against his own dark ones. 

You bit your lip as you made it even further back, looking through candids of Billy in your kitchen, standing in front of your apartment’s largest window, pictures of the two of you just hanging out… like a normal couple would have, even though you were anything but. Sighing, you began to select multiple images, making quick work of it, because it had been long enough - too much time spent waiting and hoping. There had been similar photos on his phone of you, but you figured that he’d deleted them long ago in order to ensure that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. “It’s time.”

---

You’d met Billy soon after his final deployment, and your first glimpse of him had been memorable.  Billy had been hunched over the bar with his long fingers wrapped around a beer bottle, picking at the edges of the label. He hung his head without drinking, and the first thing you’d noticed was the way that his hair drooped over his eye almost carelessly. I’d love to have those fingers wrapped around my throat. You approached him, sliding onto the empty bar stool next to him, and he hadn’t even looked up until you spoke directly to him, not bothering to disguise the interested tone of your voice. “Buy you a shot?” Though his eyes - and his entire face, if you were being honest - were gorgeous and you’d been stunned as he looked at you for the first time, you noticed that there was an emptiness behind them as he’d looked you over. You hadn’t known it then, but Billy was a master at hiding his emotions, and the few moments of despair coupled with the empty gaze would be all you got in the way of true emotion for months - until he had a nightmare in your bed and woke you by gasping for breath, his skin cold and clammy as his legs jerked. “You look like you need it.”

 The transformation of his face was seamless, and the cold, empty look was quickly replaced with a smooth smile and a glint in his eyes that was almost predatory as he eyed you. “Yeah.” He licked his lips, bringing the beer bottle to his mouth and taking a drink. “Yeah, OK. I’ll take a shot.” One shot turned into two, his hand brushing against your arm multiple times, your knee grazing his repeatedly, and you knew almost immediately that you’d be ending the night in bed with him, which you were perfectly fine with. “To absent friends and the shitty decisions people make when they’re cornered.” He lifted the whiskey and allowed you to clink your glass against his before he tipped it back and swallowed, your eyes focused on his throat and the way his jaw worked as the liquid went down. I definitely want him.

 By midnight, you were in Billy’s apartment, your arms pinned behind your back with one of his large hands, the other gripping your throat as he held you against the wall, his chest pressed to yours as he kissed you like you’d never see him again. And I probably won’t. His hips rocked against yours as he tugged on your lip with his teeth, and you caught a glimpse of them bared in a snarl as he lowered his head to your bare shoulder, latching on there with little hesitation. You knew his name, knew that he was a Marine Corps scout sniper - a lieutenant, he’d told you with absolute pride - knew that he’d just gotten back from his final deployment a few weeks prior - and you also knew that Billy needed to blow off some steam badly. His grip on your throat tightened and his hand slid upward, thumb roughly moving against your lips. Without thought, you parted them, flicking your tongue out against the pad of his finger before he bent it and you sucked it into your mouth, hearing and feeling the low groan in the back of his throat as he bit down harder on your skin.

 With a grunt, he released your hands and pulled his hand away from your face, leaning in again and kissing you hard. You immediately brought your hands up and threaded your fingers in his hair, yanking on it as he worked the button of your jeans undone and pushed them to the floor. “I don’t care where you fuckin’ touch me,” he grunted, pulling your hips flush against his. “I just want your goddamn hands on me tonight.” You nodded and kissed him again, feeling his fingers slip between the waistband of your underwear and the skin of your abdomen. Fucking hell. Billy shoved you back against the wall, pinning you in place with his body and even before anything had really happened, you knew that you were in for a treat that night with the man whose hands had made their way to the muscle of your ass - still beneath the fabric of your panties, fingers kneading and squeezing the skin almost painfully. The man’s built like a God, and I can guarantee that he fucks like one too. That had been your last coherent thought before Billy lifted you and your legs had wrapped around his waist automatically as he carried you to his bedroom.

 ---

 Going back through the pictures had reminded you of the night you’d met, the night you’d gone home with him for the first time - and you knew that it wasn’t good for you, even though Billy had been good for you. Your assumptions had been 100% correct, Billy was everything you’d thought him to be, plus so much more. You’d become friends - not easily, because he didn’t like letting people in, but steadily, and he trusted you. What was almost worse was just how much you trusted him, and how much his mere presence in your life had changed you. Billy had been a calming presence in your life, and even though you knew what he did, what he had done and what he still had to do, you didn’t care.

  “Enough. Just delete them.” Chewing on the straw, you made it to the first picture of him on your phone - Billy smiling at you over a beer from the second time you’d met him, two weeks after that first night, “So that I have a picture to look at when you call me at two am”, you’d said to him, one eyebrow raised as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dark. “Damn you, Russo.” Your finger hovered over the “Delete all 186 photos” button and you knew that it was the right thing to do - the smart thing to do. “Goddammit.” You hit cancel, locking the screen and putting your head in your hands. It had been a month since Billy had told you Rawlins was watching him more closely, that he needed to be careful with you. One month since he’d effectively ended your in person association - after one of the most thorough and memorable reminders of why you had worked so well together in the first place… and you knew that it was for the best, even if it didn’t feel that way when you looked at Billy’s face, smiling or smirking at you from your phone’s screen or from the commercials you’d seen on TV for Anvil. You enjoyed waking up in the morning and breathing, and so you’d understood when he told you that it was for the best. But that doesn’t mean that it’s easy.

 Finishing your coffee, you stood, getting ready to check the time on your phone when it lit up - Billy’s picture on the screen and your heart leaping into your throat as the sight of him. Goddamn him and his perfect face. “Hello?” You tried to keep your tone even, but knew that you sounded just a little too excited and heard him snicker before he even said a word, the sound familiar to your ear and making your heart ache. Casual my ass.

 “Hey.” He cleared his throat. “I need to stop by your place if that’s OK.” You paused. No. It’s not OK, it’s not, I can’t… “Somethin’ happened at work today, someone from Homeland showed up, and I need to talk to you about what happens next with us.” Us? I thought there was no us… not anymore.

 “Yeah, Billy. Of course.” You swallowed, throwing your cup into the trash can and beginning to walk back toward your place. “I’m on my way home now.” Whatever this is, it’s bad.

 Billy’s POV

 The bed was comfortable - sheets soft, pillows just firm enough for him, the mattress conforming to his body as he shifted onto his side. Billy sighed quietly, turning his face toward the pillow and drawing in a deep breath. It doesn’t smell right. He could smell his own cologne mixed with the scent of the fabric softener, but the most overpowering scent in his nostrils was Dinah Madani’s perfume. I shouldn’t be here. Billy’s eyes opened as he took in the face of the woman sleeping next to him; even deeply asleep with the aid of a sedative from her mother, Dinah’s face looked pained, a frown line present on her forehead. This is my fault. All my fault. I shouldn’t be here, I should be...

 It had been difficult for him to get away from the rooftop where he’d stabbed her partner - Stein - to death, rage in Billy’s eyes and blood splattering his face as his hidden knife disappeared into the man’s chest and throat repeatedly. Though he hadn’t liked the man based solely on the fact that he’d overheard Stein calling him pretty more than once, Billy hadn’t wanted to kill him… and yet he’d had to, barely allowing the man’s body to fall to the ground before taking off running in order to leave before Dinah had found her way to the rooftop, too. At least it wasn’t her. What Billy hadn’t been prepared for was the phone call from Dinah roughly an hour and a half later, asking him to come get her.

 Though he’d only known her for a week or so at that point and they’d slept together a couple of times, Billy hadn’t realized that Dinah had so few people that she could call, which made him feel… surprise.

He’d just finished showering, putting himself back together in a casual outfit, briefing Rawlins on what had happened when his personal phone had gone off, Dinah’s name on the screen. “H…hey, Billy? It’s… It’s Dinah. I need… can you… There was an… Sam’s dead.” She’d nearly broken down as she asked if he could come and get her to take her home, since she didn’t think she could drive, and the entire way there, Billy had gripped the wheel of his Wraith tightly, heart pounding. He wasn’t worried that she knew he’d been involved, because she wasn’t in the right state of mind to string him along or set him up, but Billy was still worried about what the phone call meant.

 Going along with Rawlins was one thing - killing American soldiers to keep a secret was another. Frank was another thing, Maria and the kids were something he couldn’t even being himself to think about most days, but this… this was it, and Billy knew that things were going to spiral out of control. Not only had Billy driven Dinah home after wrapping a clean blanket around her shoulders to keep the blood from staining the inside of his car, he’d helped her into the bathroom, shocked at the fact that not one of the other officers or agents had thought to wipe the blood from her skin or get her a clean outfit to wear. Those fuckers, they could have… Billy wasn’t sure what he thought of Madani on a personal level, but as a professional? He knew she would have been appalled at at the way her colleagues had let her leave the crime scene.

 Her mother had greeted them at the front door, eyes widening in shock as Billy had led her silent daughter into the apartment and to her bedroom, turning down the offer for Farah to help with the bath. “Dr. Madani, that’s not necessary. I’ve… I’ve helped people through similar situations before, I know what she needs.” The woman’s kind eyes had locked on Billy’s with a silent thank you behind them, and he nodded as he closed Dinah’s bedroom door behind the two of them, carefully stripping off her clothes without allowing his fingers to touch her bare skin any more than necessary.

 Even as the bathwater had run and he helped her into the tub, urging her to sit down in the steaming water, Billy’s mind had been running a mile a minute, thinking about what would happen next, what he could do to protect himself, to protect you. Dinah was nearly catatonic, barely able to bring her hands together to get the blood from them, and he focused on her face, on her eyes - the tremble of her lips. He talked quietly to her, his voice low and soothing as he bathed her, sponging the hot water onto her shoulders and arms, rubbing gently as the water turned pink. Billy had pulled the plug, letting the water begin to drain so that she wasn’t sitting in the bloody bath, turning the tap back on so that she would stay warm. It was easy, it was familiar, and it was not the first time he’d helped someone wash blood from their skin - hell, he’d done the same thing for himself, not even two hours prior.

 After she was clean, Dinah was slightly more responsive, helping him dress her in a pair of pajamas, telling him where her blow dryer was - but she was also very willing to take the pill Farah had left on the bedside table next to a cool glass of water. Billy had leaned over the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up to Dinah’s chin, his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re gonna be OK, Dinah. It doesn’t feel like it now, but you’re going to be.” She nodded once, her eyes squeezing closed and a few tears slipping out from beneath the lids as Billy stood, stretching his legs out. “Your mom is right in the other room -”

 “Can you stay with me, Billy?” Dinah’s eyes were wide open again, and as he looked down in surprise, Billy saw that she was scared. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.” She’s scared because of what I did, and she doesn’t even know it. He paused and then nodded, sitting back on the edge of the bed to untie his boots, pulling them off of his feet and lining them up in front of the nightstand. Billy stood, undoing the belt of his jeans and sliding them off too before easing himself underneath the blanket, leaving some space between himself and Dinah. “Thank you.” Her eyes had closed again and after only a few minutes, her breaths evened out and Billy knew that she was asleep.

 And there he was, an hour later, staring at the woman next to him in the early evening light filtering in through her curtains as she slept. I’m sorry, Dinah. You got caught up in this, and I’m just sorry that it had to be you. Billy shifted, reaching down toward the floor to pull his phone from his jeans pocket, unlocking it and clicking Instagram open. He quickly navigated to your page, looking at your newest posts and feeling his mood lighten slightly. He’d planned on breaking the no contact rule after the incident that afternoon, to tell you about what had happened, but Madani’s call had changed everything, meaning that he hadn’t gotten to you as he’d hoped. After a few minutes of browsing, he closed the app and tucked his phone back into the pocket, rolling onto his back and putting one arm beneath his head before turning to look at Madani again. He searched her face, and while he wished that he could erase the pain she was feeling, he felt… nothing otherwise.

 Not sadness, not pity, not fear. The woman had made her choices, had pursued him, and been willing to use her body to win him over - what she hadn’t know was that Billy was doing the same to her. Though Billy knew that Madani would likely figure things out at some point, he felt emptiness as he stared at her, and if he was being honest, it was closer to apathy than anything else, similar to the way he interacted with his mother… but without the anger and the hurt. It was routine for him, done because he needed to keep up appearances and nothing more. Madani truly was a means to an end for him, and even though Billy knew that his time under Rawlins’ thumb was likely (and hopefully) coming to an end, being near the Homeland agent for Rawlins was actually more helpful than Billy had ever thought it could be. Lying came second nature to Billy, as did using people for his own benefit, and the situation with Madani crossed both of those things off on the list while adding the benefits of keeping Rawlins placated - and keeping Billy physically stimulated. Not well, though. Not well enough.

 Billy’s eyes went back up to the ceiling, staring blankly at it, and he took a deep breath. It’s all wrong. All of it. I shouldn’t be here, not now, not... He let himself think of you again, of the way you smelled, the way your bed felt beneath his back, the way you fit into his arms. The way he felt for you was entirely different than the way he’d ever felt about anyone else before, and no amount of time spent in Madani’s arms or her bed were going to change that. Even though Billy didn’t want to think about what the future would bring in terms of his own safety and well-being, he was overly concerned with what it meant for you. I have to protect her. I have to find a way.

 The minutes ticked away and the room grew dimmer, but Billy was wide awake, the beginnings of a plan taking shape in his mind. He’d already been backing up your computers, had already planted the bag in your closet - that had happened the night he’d come to you to tell you Madani had showed up in a training exercise - but what exactly did it all mean?

 He needed to figure out a way to get you out of the city with him when it came time - because if there was one thing that Billy Russo knew, it was that time always ran out - and he wasn’t going to let it run out for someone else he cared about.

[benbarnesfrustration]

Black Days 2

I received an ask about making my one-shot Black Days into a series, and I was considering it when I came across the 10 Marvelous Things I Hate About You Writing Challenge. All the pieces started to fall into place. Here we go, and I hope you enjoy!

Prompt 1:  “I loooove your Black Days fic and want more. Would you consider making that a series?”

Prompt 2:  10 Marvelous Things I Hate About You Writing Challenge #41: “Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb butt, I don’t wanna hear about it”

Rated T for angst and language, but part one is rated M for all the smut.

TW: discussion about war-like situations, references to sex, language, training with weapons

Word Count: 1975

Black Days Part 1

It had been a few days since the ambush outside of Kandahar, and your military base was abuzz about what went down. Lt. Russo and yourself were thoroughly debriefed, and as the only two survivors of the attack, you were treated like minor celebrities among the other military personnel. It was determined by the general in charge that everything was done by the book, and there really was nothing else you could have done to avoid the loss of life, which ended up totaling 16 American troops, five Afghan soldiers, and six al-Qaeda fighters. War was messy, and Kandahar was nothing but one big fucking mess.  

You were successfully extracted from the bombed out old hospital in which you took shelter. While waiting for help, Lt. Russo had skillfully dug a bullet out of your arm and then...well. Things took an unexpected turn. Psychologists speak of such moments of heightened sexual arousal after a traumatic event; it’s the mind’s way of coping with something horrifying. It also didn’t help that the Lieutenant was an extremely good looking man-- the guy looked like a model. 

You hadn’t seen him since the debriefing. You figured he was busy, especially considering he was an officer.  Or perhaps he was just avoiding you, since the two of you crossed a line that could cost him his military career. Either way, you weren’t surprised.

“So I did something really stupid,” Russo said.

Frank looked up from his guitar and fixed his best friend with a look. “What’d you do this time Bill?”

Russo lay on his cot staring at the ceiling of their tent. “I had an intimate encounter with a subordinate.”

That surprised even Frank. “Jesus Bill. That’s bad even for you,” he replied, shaking his head..

“OK, before you get ideas, let me tell you it's probably not what you’re thinking,” Billy said while sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the cot to face his friend.

“Oh? Then how was it Bill?”

Russo sighed. “We had barely gotten out of that attack alive. We were alone, injured....adrenaline, pheromones...”

Frank laughed. “Spare me the chemistry lesson.”

“I kissed her,” Russo said, and looking embarrassed. “And then--”

“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb butt, I don’t wanna hear about it,” Frank interjected with a chuckle.

“No,” Russo said, grinning. “No, she was into it. And let’s say things progressed from there. A lot.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You telling me you slept with this girl? A soldier??” Frank hissed. “You’re going to be court-martialed, you idiot.”

Bill shook his head defensively. “The fraternization policies are stupid, if two people who almost died can’t blow off a little steam--”

“Listen to yourself.” Frank interrupted. “What if she talks? What if she has second thoughts and reports you?” 

“She won’t. It’s not like that. We had fun, that’s all.”

“You didn’t take advantage of her?” Frank asked, pointing a finger at Russo.

“Christ, Frank, No!” Russo replied defensively. “I actually tried to stop it at first.”

“You think that’ll matter?  You’re the officer Bill. You should have known better.”

"Well I’m sorry I told you Frank. Jesus, don’t have to judge me!”  Russo slumped back against his pillow and ran a hand through his hair.

Frank sighed, and when he spoke, he was careful to use a gentler tone. “I’m not judging you. I just don’t want you to get in trouble. So what are you going to do?”

“I have no idea,” Russo said. “What can I do?”

Frank shook his head. “If I told you to drop it, would you listen?”

“Probably not,” Russo laughed.

Your dreams were all over the place. One minute you were running from bullets, and the next you felt hands on your skin. Deep kisses, then blood. Chaos and terror warred with ecstasy. You couldn’t sleep more than an hour or so at a time, and you were feeling the strain during the day.  

On the fourth day after the incident, you were standing at your locker, buttoning your fatigues with shaky fingers, when a honeyed voice pulled you out of your sleep-deprived daze.

“How’s the arm, Corporal?”

You jumped and slammed your locker door shut with a loud bang, revealing the face of Lt. Russo. He looked good, even though the shrapnel he took to the scalp left a mottled bruise on the upper left area of his forehead.

“Oh! I...uh...” you stammered, surprised. “Sir. Yes. The arm. The arm is good. The corpsman who stitched me up said you did a great job removing the bullet, thank you, sir.”

Russo nodded. “Curtis Hoyle is a buddy of mine. He told me he looked after you. He’s the best corpsman the Navy’s ever had.”

“He has a good touch,” you agreed. “And... how are you, sir?”

Russo shrugged. “Oh you know. Hanging in there.”  You noticed that he looked tired too. The two of you simply stood looking at each other for a moment. You got the impression that he was trying to decide what to say, and you also were at a loss.  He sighed. “I wanted to check in on you sooner, but I had some pressing things to attend to.” 

You nodded. “Of course, lieutenant.” He smiled then, and it lit up his whole face. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes that had escaped your bun. It was over in a flash, but you broke out in gooseflesh all the same.  “See you around Corporal,” he said, and headed off, smile still on his lips.

“Sir,” you said distractedly to his departing form, and felt that telltale butterfly flutter in your stomach. You silently cursed your excitement. So Russo touched your cheek...so what? It would certainly be for the best if nothing else happened between the two of you. He was an officer, and you were his subordinate. There were fraternization rules forbidding this sort of behavior, but you wanted his hands on you again...his lips, his tongue...all of him. You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the thoughts that were making your heart beat faster. After all, this was a dangerous game you were playing at. The simple fact was that it was not worth jeopardizing your career over one man, and you had to accept that.

You didn’t see Russo the next day, but the following day, a private came trotting over to you. “Corporal! Lieutenant Russo wants to see you in the training tent,” he said, before heading on his way. You swallowed anxiously, no idea what this could be about.  You made your way over to the training tent and were surprised to find Russo alone, standing with his back to you reading some paperwork. He turned around when he heard you approach, and smiled.  “Corporal,” he nodded in greeting. 

“Lieutenant,” you replied.  “What can I do for you?”

“It’s been almost a week since your injury, and I thought I would see how you’re healing up.”

“I’m a little sore sir, but I’m fine,” you replied.

Russo walked over to a weapons rack and gently ran his hand over the top of the various training weapons leaning against it. “Have you been getting in any practice?” He turned his head to look at you. “Gotta stay sharp, Corporal.”

“Not any formal training, sir. Just sit ups and runs, that sort of thing. Trying to take it easy on my arm.”

Russo picked up a wooden training staff and circled around your left side. Without warning, he tossed you the staff and you instinctively grabbed it with your injured arm-- your left-- and you grimaced in pain. You fixed Russo with a look. “You did that on purpose. Sir.”

He smirked. “Think the bad guys care if your arm hurts?”  You shook your head, and he returned to the training rack to grab another staff.  He walked back to you and stood in front of you. “Ok then,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

You nodded, took a deep steadying breath, and stepped forward.  "Sensei,” you said simply, and bowed your head.

Russo chuckled, then before you could say anything else, he leapt into action. You raised your staff to block his strikes, parrying and dodging to the best of your ability. You were in good shape, but he clearly had more strength and experience than you, and you found yourself losing ground. You tried to change tactics to gain the offensive, trying-- and failing-- a couple of times to trip him up. You spun and changed direction, so he had to turn around to face you. His eyes glinted mischievously, and you realized that he was really enjoying this.

His long arms and legs were also a serious disadvantage for you, but you were determined not to make it too easy for him.  The staves were a blur as they spun, swooped, and struck. Your gunshot wound was on fire, and the surrounding musculature was burning from the strain. You started to sweat as you struggled to parry all of his strikes, which didn’t show any signs of slowing. The man was fast.  You were about to lose all hope of ever gaining the upper hand when you successfully swept his left leg, and he went down to one knee.

“Well done,” he said breathlessly, and he was smiling as he said it. “I’m impressed, Corporal,” he added as he got to his feet.  

You chuckled. “You’re kicking my ass, sir.” 

He laughed. “Not exactly, but if you’d like me to be more rough on you....”

“Oh sure, why not?” You replied, and rolled your eyes, making him laugh again.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, and lunged at you.  The staves whirled and clashed again, and this time, your grunts were more audible as you tried like hell to take him down. Your arm was beyond pain at this point; just a numb lump that was somehow still managing to grasp one end of your staff.  You managed to glance a blow off of one of his shoulders, but before you could feel too proud of yourself, he had somehow managed to hook his staff behind your right knee and yank to the side; not only knocking your foot out from under you, but completely throwing off your balance.  You started to go down but instinctively reached out to grab the only thing in your reach, which was Lt. Russo.

You fell backward onto the mat, taking him with you by the collar of his shirt.  You lay there panting for a moment. He was on top of you, but holding himself up by his forearms so as not to completely pin down your upper body. You said nothing, just looked at him. God, you thought. He’s so fucking attractive. You suddenly wanted nothing more than for him to kiss you and tear your clothes off.

You feared that you had let something show on your face when he broke out into a brilliant smile. “What?” You asked.

He remained silent and just looked at you. You could see his eyes moving along the features of your face.  It was agonizing, being this close and doing nothing.

“Nice match,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell and lifting himself off of you. He held out a hand to help you up, which you  grasped with your good hand. You stood up and faced him. “Thank you, sir,” you said quietly.

"We should practice more. You’re good, but I think I can show you a few things.” He tossed you a towel. You grabbed it and mopped your forehead.

“I’d like that sir,” you said as you cleaned yourself up. You tossed the towel into the hamper.  “Thank you. I guess I should be getting back.” You turned to walk away.

“Corporal,” he said, and you stopped to look back at him. “When it’s just us, please call me Billy.”

You smiled. “Only if you call me Y/N.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning. 

Next chapter

@littledarlinhavefaithinme

[darkerpheonix]

Drink Thief: Part I

Summary: When you steal Billy Russo's drink one night at a bar, that should've been the end of it. But you can't get him out of your head, and that's when you know you're screwed.

Warnings: swearing, but that's it for now

Word Count: a sweet little 1.6k

Part II

This all started when your best friend Chloe decided she no longer wanted to work at her dead-end job and quit, which lead to a night of drinking at the shitty bar down the street from your apartment. The same shitty bar where you first laid eyes on Billy Russo.

When you pushed through the doors of the bar, you knew immediately that you weren’t going to be drinking any more than a few sips of whatever was cheapest on the menu. Your best friend was already pretty drunk due to the pre-gaming she'd done at your apartment and you didn't like the hungry looks she was getting as soon as you stepped through the doors of the bar. Besides, this night wasn't for you, it was for her, and she definitely wasn't going to last more than another forty-five minutes before she passed out and you half dragged, half carried her butt home.

Might as well get as close to the source as possible, you thought as you pushed your way through a group of leering men to the bar. You hadn't truly wanted to go out tonight, but as soon as Chloe burst through the door of your apartment and started shouting about how she needed a whole bottle of wine, then proceeded to drink the entire bottle of wine while telling you everything that had happened at her job that day, you couldn't say no. So, you'd quickly thrown on a v-neck, the jeans that made your butt look great and your favorite pair of boots before leaving. You were regretting the entire outfit now, since you could feel the stares of every male’s eyes in the room on you and Chloe. But on second thought, you both could've gone out wearing potato sacks and it wouldn't have made any difference.

Once you found two empty seats at the bar, you waved the bartender down. "We'll have a whiskey and whatever beer is cheapest!" you yelled to him over the music.

"That's a dangerous request in here," the man sitting next to you said.

"Well, you try drinking on a budget when your friend is about to spend the entire month's rent on whatever alcohol she can get her hands on," you grumbled before swiveling your stool to find one of the most beautiful men you'd ever seen smirking at you. Usually, a smirk like that would probably get a person slapped, but on this stranger it made your toes curl in your boots.

He nodded his head in Chloe's direction, "Somehow, I don't think your friend is going to have trouble getting drinks tonight." You turned back around to find Chloe's devious grin and another three shots of whiskey lined up in front of her. You looked to the bartender who shrugged and motioned down the bar to the various guys that were all staring at your friend, waiting for her to throw back their drinks and shoot them one of her dazzling smiles.

You sighed as the bartender made another one for your friend, "If they want to pay the bill for her binge tonight, they can be my guests."

The guy next to you gave a soft chuckle, "So what do you actually want to drink tonight?"

When you turned back to him you had a devious grin of your own on your face, "Oh, I don't know," you said as you reached across him to snatch his drink and take a sip of it, keeping your eyes locked on his as the alcohol burned down your throat. As you put his drink back down, you had to drag your eyes away from his and felt his gaze glide over your body before snapping back up to your face. "This is pretty good," you finally said. The smirk was back as he reached for his drink and downed the rest of it before calling to the bartender for two more. "You better be paying for those-" you paused, gesturing for him to fill in the blank that was his name.

"Billy. Billy Russo."

"Well, you better be paying for those Billy Russo, because I can tell you right now that I sure as hell won't be."

He full on laughed at that, "Don't worry, I can pay for these, but only if you tell me your name first."

You smiled at him, "I'm Y/N and it's very nice to meet you Billy."

"Likewise," he said before you clinked your glass to his and took a swig. You glanced back at your friend to make sure she was still alive behind you and found her throwing back what looked to be her fifth shot of the night. 

Deciding that she would probably be okay for another twenty minutes before you had to go, you turned back to Billy. "So what brings you here tonight to this fine establishment?" you asked him.

The smirk on his face slipped a bit before he answered, "Oh, y'know, the usual stuff."

"Like…?"

"I'm getting shipped back out in a few days."

You nearly choked on your drink at his words, "Like, to war?" You mentally kicked yourself for the stupid question. What else would shipping out mean?

He grinned tightly at you, "Yeah, as you can see, I'm extremely excited about it" he said before knocking back the rest of his drink and waving to the bartender for another.

"Well, if you're so 'excited' about it," you said sardonically, "then why don't you get out?"

Billy cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth to reply, but you didn't catch what he said because Chloe had decided that it was the perfect moment to suddenly grab your shoulder and spin you around. You registered her face just in time to see her clamp a hand over her mouth and start moving quickly towards the bathroom before springing up after her. Billy was hot as hell, but it was best friend rule numero uno to always hold your girl's hair back as she puked her guts up in the bathroom. Once she was done hurling and you'd helped get her to the sink to wash her mouth out, you slung her arm across your shoulder and prepared to "walk" her home. First though, you needed to go to the bar and pay for the first two drinks you'd ordered before the two of you could leave. Of course, it was just your luck that Billy was nowhere to be found. However, once you got to the counter, the bartender waved you off, "The guy you were talking to paid for all of it. He also asked me to give you this." The bartender pushed a napkin towards you with a phone number on it with the words, feel free to call me when you want to steal my drink again, written under it.

You smiled and shoved the napkin into your pocket before dragging your friend out of the bar and down the street towards home.

Billy's POV

Billy watched you push your way through the crowd after your friend and knew that the night was over. He had been sitting in the bar for over an hour and was just about to leave when you had shoved your way up to the bar to the seat next to him. And now that you were disappearing into the bathroom after your friend, there was no way you were staying, so neither was he. Billy pushed himself up from his seat and threw down some bills, knowing that the cheap shit you had tried to drink before would be covered. 

As he was turning away from the bar he had a thought and motioned the bartender back over, "Do you have a pen?" The bartender raised his brows at him as he fished around in his pockets and Billy didn't need the ability to read minds to know what he was thinking, because Billy was having the exact same thought. Really, leaving the phone number on the napkin? That's a little too cheesy. Billy glared back at him when he handed the pen over and scratched his number down, "Will you just make sure this gets to her if she comes back?" The bartender snorted as he read the note Billy had written, but nodded anyway. Billy turned away before the full wave of embarrassment hit him and began maneuvering his way through the crowd towards the door.

Finally outside, Billy rolled his eyes at himself. "What the hell are you doing bro?" he said to himself as he stalked down the street. He was definitely not going to drive himself back to his place since he had to be the most drunk he'd ever been to do something that lame. Billy Russo didn't give his number out to random women he spoke barely ten words too, he got theirs. And she definitely wasn't going to call him after that. Why would she? He wouldn't even call himself if he received that note.

He was almost to the end of the block before he heard laughter and turned to look behind him to see you stumbling out of the bar with your friend's arm draped around your shoulder. "If you puke on me, I'm going to murder you" you said to your friend. 

Your friend pulled you up short, "Can you just give me a piggy back ride? If I walk another step, I can promise that I will puke."

You gave a long suffering sigh, "Fine, just get on before I change my mind." Your friend kissed you on the cheek before clambering up onto your back. Billy watched as you started off down the street in the opposite direction and smiled. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, least of all himself, but he really hoped you called him.

--

Author’s note: Hi everyone, this is my first fanfic ever so the response it’s getting is absolutely blowing my mind since I thought there’d only be like, five of you who liked it. Expect a Part II soon since I can’t resist the dumpster fire that is Billy Russo.

[fadedtoblue]

My thoughts on The Punisher

Surprise, surprise -- I have (extremely scattershot) thoughts about The Punisher! 

The husband and I binged this over the past 3 days (2 episodes Thursday @ midnight, 5 episodes Friday night, and 6 episodes over Saturday) and given its unrelenting intensity I’m pretty sure there are a lot of details I’m not going to fully grasp until I watch this again, but overall impression -- super solid. I would still personally rank it under Daredevil (sorry, he’s always gonna be my number 1!!), but I think it jockeys for second position with Jessica Jones? This particular show did some things amazingly well that the others haven’t, I think largely due to the fact that it was a standalone series, separate from the Defenders, and didn’t need to mess around with rationalizing any superheroics or powers -- at its core, it’s an intense and violent 13-hour examination of Frank Castle, who incidentally exists in a world with superheroes. But anyway, let’s dive in -- it should go without saying that spoilers absolutely abound after the cut...

Let’s start with the good stuff:

Jon Bernthal as Frank. Listen, whether you loved or hated the show, it can’t be denied that Jon absolutely kills it as Frank. This show lives and dies on those fine as hell shoulders and he brings it in every stage of Frank we see on screen. I liked that they never shied away from all of the messy parts of him -- geez, when he’s holding a freaking knife to Zack’s neck...worst parental pep talk ever? Or when he’s genuinely encouraging Lewis to blow himself up. And the unflinching way he goes about his kills. But as you can imagine, it’s those moments when he loses his grip on his steely control, when he can’t rely on his rage to hold him together...those were my favorite ones. When he has those aching moments with Karen by the waterfront and in the elevator. When he realizes that Russo knew about the mission that would kill Maria and the kids. We know Frank does rage well but I’m glad we didn’t fully leave behind broken, grieving Frank either. 

Well-drawn side characters, especially those that had a direct relationship with Frank. As far as main character relationships go, Frank and Micro pretty much made it for me? They balanced each other so well and were such assholes...yet caring assholes lol. I don’t even think I could keep track of how many times I just burst out laughing during their scenes. Frank explicitly trying to fuck with him by visiting Sarah, Frank tying Micro naked to the chair (of course he would), Micro pushing Frank around in the chair (hee), any exchanges that had to do with food (lol the sandwich bit), the drunk shit-talking...I loved it all. Part of me hopes that David can just live a happy, quiet life with his family and not get pulled into this shit anymore but I’m sure that’s not happening...which makes me feel torn haha.

Frank and Karen were a highlight as well. It was definitely very measured amounts of interaction, but I felt like they didn’t waste a second of it. And the way it culminated was quite emotional, but earned. Like that amazing scene in the elevator with Karen, absolutely beat up and exhausted and nearly broken and the only thing keeping them standing in that moment is that unspoken thing between the two of them -- they want so much to lean into each other and just stop but they know they can’t. She knows he can’t. And her implicit support and encouragement for him to continue on was a really strong character beat. There’s no way they don’t see each other again in DDS3 as far as I’m concerned. 

After that, I did like what they did with his connections to Curtis and Billy, I definitely bought all of them as members of the same unit and connected by this unspoken code / brotherhood. I had issues with some of the background motivations which I’ll bring up later but...yeah, I was just like DAMN Frank actually has some really good friends! I’ll call out Billy briefly here, because shit, he was SO MESSED UP but I think they did a really good job evolving his position as Frank’s grieving brother in arms in the beginning of the series to someone who has gone crazy from losing everything he’s worked for and I’m already shivering a little to imagine the pain he’s going to lay at the feet of Frank Castle and characters like Dinah...ugh ugh ugh! But anyway, well done by Ben Barnes!

Considerate approach to examining grief, PTSD and veteran’s issues. Okay, I’m really not super knowledgeable about PTSD and veteran’s issues in general so I’m only speaking from my own limited opinion, but the way it was approached on this show felt...fresh? It was handled with respect -- mainly in showing how different people process and deal with that trauma differently...you could see that in Frank, Curtis, Billy, and Lewis -- but at the same time worked as an unflinching examination of how the system fails...so that part was really solid. At first I wasn’t entirely sure why we were spending so much time with Curtis and the support group and these slightly caricatured individuals but I think it paid off in the end. Lewis was a struggle for me at first but I ultimately think he was an extremely necessary story to tell because he does encapsulate all of the failures the show was trying to examine and I think Frank needed to confront someone like him over the course of this show. 

And the examination of grief. I’ll touch upon what they did with Sarah in this section because I think that’s basically the purpose she was meant to serve with Frank. I’m sure some people weren’t super thrilled with how much it got drawn out, but I don’t know, it really kind of worked for me? Obviously Frank makes first contact simply to freak Micro the fuck out (and it works), but at a certain point, it’s essentially forced into continued contact with Sarah and the kids and despite his best efforts, I think he starts to confront his own issues and demons regarding Maria and the kids through this connection with a woman who actually has a unique and powerful understanding of exactly what he’s going through. And these meetings are almost like therapy for him? I can’t imagine he’s ever had a safe space to process all of the ways he feels like he’s let his family down. And I think he is able to work through some of this by talking to Sarah, by connecting with the kids. This is really something Frank the character needed. As far as the romantic overtones? Undertones? I found it quite realistic actually. I liked that the show towed a grey area with it for a while, and if you think a single mother of two kids who is still intensely grieving the loss of her husband and her children’s father wouldn’t respond romantically to this man who keeps showing up and essentially fixing her life? I was super opposed to the idea of Frank kissing Sarah but I think the way they did it worked. They were very clear that it was a response borne out of her own struggles, and Frank makes it very clear to her and to Micro that this doesn’t mean anything to him. If you see how Sarah reacts to Micro in the last couple of episodes (damn it was a gutpunch) then you wouldn’t worry about what she thinks about Frank Castle! 

Episodic pacing + interesting storytelling devices. People usually gripe and grouse that Netflix shows have pacing issues but I felt like Punisher (even with my minor issues with plot and stuff) really kept me engaged through the entire run. None of the episodes felt like filler or stopped the story in its tracks (which has definitely happened on all of the other Marvel Netflix series). They also took some fun risks with storytelling structure, particularly in 1x05 (with the ambush on Gunnar’s property being mainly told via body cam) and 1x10 (with the time jumps / intercutting between various POV, both reliable and not) -- it was things like that which kept the show chugging along at an exciting pace.

The not so good?

Lackluster conspiracy plot / overall antagonist. So listen, I want to be clear that I liked Dinah Midani, so I hate that I’m talking about her in the context of the not so good stuff -- she injected a dynamic the show needed, which was a strong ass female character that doesn’t really need men for anything, and more specifically, doesn’t really need the “hero” of the show for anything either (except you know, a witness statement lol)! I loved the moments we had with her and Billy (even though, UGH BILLY!!! That washing her off in the tub scene gave me legit shivers and rage) and even the briefer moments we had between her and other characters, like Karen, her mom, even her boss Rafi. But she was also the driver of a conspiracy plot that to me, kind of missed the mark. I liked that they took those threads from DDS2 and tried to build them into a larger, more wide reaching governmental conspiracy in TPS1 but...I don’t know, it just never felt like it was realized enough, and the characters more prominent in that plot never felt more than just one-dimensional means to an end (also it didn’t feel realistic that it was basically just two people doing shit in Homeland Security on any case at given time). Her motivation worked but every time they showed her smarts and intelligence and dedication to her job, they would undercut it a bit by making her less than capable in the field, always making questionable decisions and getting her people killed. Overall, it was one of those, works on paper, doesn’t work in execution kind of storylines. 

And tying this conspiracy plot that never quite worked to the lack of a strong, overall antagonist -- I don’t think it’s something a regular show would have needed, but as a comic book adaptation (particularly a Marvel Netflix one), I was expecting a bit more. Rawlins was literally never a convincing antagonist -- his inclusion felt like a necessity on the conspiracy side, but he didn’t play off Frank in any convincing way. He was a blowhard and an asshole, not really a bad guy. That misogynist asshole Wolfe had more convincing presence to me in the small number of episodes he featured in than Rawlins tbh. As for Russo, he was obviously a much stronger foil to Frank (and a compelling secondary foil to Dinah as the female lead) but since the story was actively building him up to become the villain next season, he didn’t really tick the right antagonist boxes for me this time around either. I also didn’t like how his motivations felt really muddled a lot of the time, I liked that we kept switching back and forth from oh wait Billy is a good guy, oh no, Billy is an epic piece of shit, but I would have appreciated more clarity on why he made the choices he made and why that would justify such an epic betrayal of his brother.  

Heavyhanded approach to certain side issues. As well done as the grief and PTSD storylines were, most of the gun control related side plots just didn’t really work for me. I understood why they included it -- you can’t make a show like the Punisher in this current day and age without addressing the elephant in the room -- but it just felt really clunky. I guess at the very least they made the characters symbolizing both sides of the debate equally clunky? Hypocrite senator was about as annoying as NRA blowhard guy (though he certainly didn’t deserve to meet that end, RIP NRA blowhard guy). I guess I just feel torn because I have a very strong stance on this IRL but I almost feel as if I would have rather they not included it in this show if it wasn’t going to be handled with care. I’ve accepted that the Punisher and really any sort of violence driven show created for entertainment (which is...so much of our programming nowadays) can’t always be a grand statement regarding societal ills. Sometimes they just are what they are. But at least in the case of the Punisher, it didn’t feel like the violence was meant to be glorified or cheered on (I didn’t anyway) or viewed as some sort of heightened violence fantasy. It was brutal and unsettling. Anyway, all of this to say that I clearly don’t quite know about I feel about it since this was such a damn rambly paragraph lol. 

Storytelling issues + plot holes. So while I’ve said that the biggest positive the show had to offer was the lack of reliance on an expected superhero formula, I think this made me struggle a bit more than usual with being able to suspend my disbelief about certain goings-ons in-show...like, the moment Frank shaves off his hobo hipster beard, how does NO ONE RECOGNIZE THE DUDE FROM LAST YEAR’S TRIAL OF THE CENTURY?? (Though I legit enjoyed the hilariously awkward silence of the Lieberman family watching the TV and being like WTF) And how does Frank literally get shot / stabbed / tortured in every other episode but manage to bounce back in a day so he could do more Punishing. Even Matt couldn’t recover that quickly if he tried! Like I don’t know, I would have liked to see Frank wearing more body armor or protecting his head or SOMETHING. And as delightfully fanservice-y the Turk cameo was, no way Frank Castle wouldn’t end him without a second thought. Of course, these are such nitpicks but they did take me out of it every so often. 

So as you can see, for me there were more positives than negatives. Everything that I saw makes me extremely excited to see Frank’s Punisher in the Marvel Netflix universe again. I thought they told a very self contained story here and hit nearly all of the beats that you could want in this particular adaptation. I wouldn’t have expected them to leave it so open ended at the end but in retrospect it was a bold choice and I think one that is very considerate of this version of Frank Castle that we know. As someone who doesn’t have the emotional attachment to him via comics, I’m somewhat glad we didn’t just end this show with him as full on Punisher. I think there are more stories to explore before we get there. I also 100% expect him to reappear in DDS3 at this point and I’m super curious about where he goes in TPS2. I feel by that point, they’ll need to lean into the more comic book-y elements and it’ll be interesting to see how they handle that tonal shift. 

[breanime]

Semper Fi

Requested by anon: (with Billy Russo) the reader is super duper adorable and seems so innocent but she’s former marine and Billy doesn’t even know and they get into a sticky situation where they have to fight and he’s like

This ended up being short and sweet, I hope you like it! 

*gif not mine*

How Billy Russo, ex-Scout Sniper, accomplished security contractor, CEO of a business that dealt exclusively in violent situations, and former Marine with 134 confirmed kills ended up with the human embodiment of sunshine was beyond him.

Yet here he was.

He watched you from his crow’s nest above the main floor of Anvil, hands in his pockets. You didn’t walk so much as bounce, your body too full of sunshine and butterflies and whatever the fuck else to walk straight. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw you…you just made him happy. Your happiness was contagious. You were holding a big pink box that Billy knew contained his lunch, and he watched you chat with his secretary. Ever the beacon of friendliness, your presence soon attracted Curtis, two trainers, and three of his regular staff, and four trainees. Billy watched you talk, eyes following every turn of your head and drinking in your bright smile. He had no idea how he got a woman like you, but he was damn glad he had you.

“When’d the Princess get here?” Frank asked, coming to stand beside Billy.

Billy chuckled. Frank started calling you ‘Princess’ the day he’d met you. You’d been wearing a pink dress and a tiara because you’d just come from reading to your nephew’s 3rd grade class, and you practically floated when you walked. You had greeted Frank—who’d had his hand out to say hello—with a warm hug, and subsequently won his affection and admiration. He called you Princess ever since. “Just now,” Billy answered, “We have a lunch date.”

“You guys are doing a lot of lunch dates these days,” Frank grinned, “Things are getting pretty serious between the two of you, huh?”

“Yeah, they are.” Billy couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were such a source of warmth, people who Billy had worked with for years and barely ever spoke to made it a point to stop what they were doing and say hello to you. You made everyone feel welcome and appreciated, it was effortless—you were just like that, just so…lovable.

Billy went down and took you away from your adoring crowd, needing some alone time with his girl. He watched you bounce up the stairs and into his office, kissing you once the door was closed and he had you all to himself.

“I think half my office is in love with you,” he said against your lips.

He felt your smile against his mouth. “Not the half that matters,” you said back.

Billy wanted to ask what you meant by that, but you started taking out the homemade lunch you’d made him, and he got distracted. After you had eaten, you somehow ended up on Billy’s lap. He, of course, just couldn’t resist how cute you were, and the next thing he knew, he had you bent over his desk and had his pants around his ankles. He decided he’d ask you about that comment you’d made later.

Five days later, Billy had a night off and decided to take his girl on a date. Nothing fancy; he picked you up and took you to dinner and a Broadway show. He was able to get backstage passes (he’d done some security work for the lead actress and the director before), so you spent the rest of the evening talking with the cast. They were all so enamored with you that they ended up inviting you both to their exclusive one-night performance where they’d do songs that had originally been cut, and Billy was sure you’d float into the night sky with how happy that had made you. He held your hand, so small and warm in his own, as you walked back to his car. You were talking a mile a minute, going over your favorite parts of the show and gushing over the performances, and Billy listened intently. He was so interested in what you were saying, that he almost missed the five men approaching.

Almost.

Billy didn’t even have a second to speak before he saw one of the men take out a crowbar and raise it in the air. He pushed you out of the way and sidestepped the blow, punching the man in the stomach as he did so. “Y/N,” he called out, trying to keep an eye on the other four assailants, “Get to the car!” He blocked a blow from another one of the guys, grabbing his wrist and taking his weapon from him. Billy used the stolen weapon to hit the first guy again, making sure he stayed down. He glanced back up, expecting to see your back as you ran—or bounced—to the car, but instead what he saw was his girlfriend, his sweet, bubbly ray of sunshine, flip a man half her size and punch another man square in the jaw with so much force, he knocked out cold. “Oh,” Billy said, stopping in his tracks, “shit.”

You spun around, as graceful as a dancer, and slammed your elbow into one of the men’s faces, breaking his nose without a second’s pause. The three remaining man all turned towards you, and Billy stepped back and watched. You clearly knew what you were doing. You kicked the first one, making him fall to his knees, and stepped over him. Billy watched, appreciating your form, instinct, and quick reflexes, as you took the other two men down, keeping the first one on the ground and unable to interject. He recognized your moves; they were the same moves he’d learned in basic training. You were a fucking Marine.

You were fucking incredible.

Billy leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets, completely at ease as his girlfriend beat four (the one Billy had knocked out was still unconscious on the ground) grown men up. You straightened up as the last one hit the floor, breathing heavily, and turned to Billy. Your bright eyes were wild, and he could practically hear your heart pounding, that’s how loud it was. The adrenaline was coursing through your body—Billy’s too—and you stared over at him.

“I… I was going to tell you,” you said, your voice nervous, “I just didn’t know how. I, um, I’m a former Marine, Private First Class. Spent most of my time on ships, but I did a tour in Iraq, I…” You looked down at the bodies surrounding you before looking back at Billy. Your pretty eyes were wide and sorrowful, and you shook your head, sure that you’d lost Billy forever. No man liked to be emasculated like that, and even more so, no man wanted to find out his girlfriend was a trained fighter by seeing her fight. You should have told him. You should have been honest with him and accepted whatever his reaction was. You stared over at Billy, watching him watch you, and had only one last thing to say. “I’m sorry.”

Billy had something to say, too. “I love you.”

Your mouth fell open. Of all the things you thought Billy might say, that was not it. But you always spoke from the heart, and now was no exception. “I love you, too, Billy.”

Grinning, he walked over to you, stepping over the unconscious bodies without even sparing them a second glance. He put his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. He was still smiling when he pulled back. “Watching you beat those guys’ asses was hot as hell. Let’s go home and show each other how much we love each other, huh?”

You smiled back, nodding excitedly. “That sounds good.”

“I’ve never slept with a Marine before,” Billy said, hands on your waist, “Looking forward to it.”

You laughed, that loud, full, happy laugh that warmed Billy to the core, and kissed him again. You spoke against his lips. “Semper fi,” you said, kissing him one more time.

He grinned. “Semper fi.”

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading, everyone! Let me know what you think, please!

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[something-tofightfor]

POV: The Constant

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader ( Billy x Madani in passing)

Word count: 2174

@ooo-barff-ooo asked for a different POV for The Constant.... so I chose  to focus on the period between Billy and Reader leaving the Anvil facility and getting to the parking garage. 

You’ll probably need to/want to read the entire thing (found on my ML because links won’t allow this to show in search results) before reading this. 

It’s got some language and some mentions of sex, but nothing too zesty. 

His arm hurt. Billy had been shot multiple times before, had felt the sting of the bullets as they pierced his skin and then passed through - clean wounds, from powerful weapons and enemies he couldn’t even see. But the wound on his arm was a different story. He’d seen the person that had shot him, heard her voice as clear as day. Hell, he’d looked Dinah Madani in the eye not even 48 hours earlier when she’d had him in her conference room for questioning, his gaze burning a hole in her as he reminded her of their situation and what she had allowed to happen to herself. And this one hurt worse than any other time he’d been injured - not because the wound was deep or dangerous (it wasn’t) but because it had been put there by someone that had wanted to put it there for personal reasons, not because they had to. How the fuck did I get here?

 Billy’s eyes remained closed and as he took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her car’s interior, he felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks silently. Why the fuck did I let this happen? Billy Russo did not typically cry, but every man had a breaking point, and apparently Billy’s breaking point was reached when in the span of 24 hours, he threatened the lives of a woman and child, chose not to take an easy kill shot, confessed his deepest sin to his best friend - former best friend, watched said friend beat a man to death, got shot… and then destroyed the very thing he’d sold his soul for. Though the tears continued, Billy allowed himself a small smile - if that’s what it took to bring him to tears, then he wasn’t doing so bad after all.

 A small sigh from the front seat brought Billy’s attention back to his current situation and the woman that sat silently a few feet from him, hands gripping her steering wheel tightly.  When he’d called her from Anvil, knowing that he didn’t really need the bag that he’d had packed for weeks, stored in the closet of her apartment, he had figured that she wouldn’t come. He’d done enough to distance himself from her that he wouldn’t have blamed her, really, but she’d not only answered the phone call - she’d shown up where and when he needed her to, ready to listen and… concerned for him. I can’t let her do this. I shouldn’t have involved her.

 His uninjured arm was behind his head as he felt the car traveling over the New York streets - there was little traffic at the late hour, and Billy knew that he only had minutes to collect his thoughts and make a decision before he had to face reality: he had to get out of New York before Frank killed him - and he wanted her with him. Fuck. I can’t ask her to do that. Can I?

 As she drove, Billy thought back to the day that he’d told her that they couldn’t have contact anymore because he needed to focus on Madani, and had to suppress another small smile despite the growing pit in his stomach and the pain in his arm as he bled all over her back seat.

 “I gotta get… I gotta get back in front of this, you know?” He was in her kitchen, one foot tapping on the linoleum and a hand clutching the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit, one that he’d picked up from Frank through all those long years spent watching Castle rub his hands over his short hair and neck. “We bugged her office. She’s gonna come to Anvil for me, and she’s gonna try to get information out of me. She knows I served with Frank. I can’t see you at all anymore, not now, it’s not safe.” He’d watched her go pale, her eyes growing wide, and though she’d set her shoulders before she spoke, the words came out quiet but even.

 “You gonna fuck her?” Billy had just stared, unable to comprehend how someone like her could just stand in front of him and ask a question like that. “You gonna get information from her while you’re tangled up in her bed sheets in the morning?” Her shoulders were still set, but Billy watched as her eyes moved from his down to his lips and then back up, never wavering in their cold gaze. “Rawlins tell you to fuck her? Use your smart mouth to get the answers he wants?” He felt a tightening in his chest and he wanted to reach out, to tell her that no, he wasn’t going to fuck Dinah Madani, that he didn’t want to be tangled up in anyone’s bed sheets except hers, the smell of her perfume lingering on his skin long after they’d separated for the day. But he couldn’t, because it wasn’t the truth - and he wasn’t about to start lying to her.

 “If I need to.” Billy swallowed, taking one step forward, shaking his head. “I gotta do what Rawlins needs me to do, I have to keep this from coming out, keep her from finding out whatever it is she wants to know about Frank. I owe Frankie that much at least.” She’d nodded - once - and then had looked away, eyes darting around the kitchen. Billy knew what she was thinking - that him being told to sleep with someone if necessary was much worse than Billy making the decision on his own. “You know I’d rather -”

 She cut him off, finally looking back at Billy and closing the distance between the two of them in a few steps, her fingertips moving over the skin of his neck roughly as she pulled him down to kiss her - their first kiss in nearly a month. “Yeah, I know.” She breathed the words after she’d pulled back, her forehead pressing against Billy’s, voice stronger than it had been as if the change in proximity between them had helped. “Just don’t enjoy it too much, Billy. You know I’m the only one that can really handle your mouth.” He scoffed, leaning in and kissing her hard, his teeth catching on her lower lip as he pulled back, a low noise coming from the back of her throat at the sensation. “You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”

 It had been hard to walk out of her apartment that day - even harder than when he’d told her that Rawlins was amping things up, that Billy was afraid that if they continued to see each other, that the man would find out about her and do something horrible. At least then, Billy had known that he could keep an eye on her discreetly, but once Madani and Stein had jumped onto the Zubair case, things had changed rapidly. Then, it was better for both of them that Billy had simply stayed away, his only contact being the once weekly trip to her apartment to backup their files - but only when he knew that she wasn’t home. Billy was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that he could look into her eyes in the light of day, watching her search his face wordlessly for conformation about his physical involvement with Dinah Madani.

 It was a risk - but it was one that Billy had been willing to take, because he knew deep down that things weren’t going to go as planned, that Rawlins was going to fuck everything up again… and that Madani was going to be an even bigger thorn in his side than he’d anticipated, which made a getaway plan absolutely necessary. And all of that had been made even more difficult when he’d found out that Frank was in fact alive, and that the story was even more convoluted than Billy had ever imagined. Leaving had only become a possibility once he’d cleared the air with Frank - in a roundabout way, sure, but at least now Frank knew that Billy hadn’t actually been the one to harm the Castle family, he’d just… not done anything to stop it.

 But with Rawlins out of the way for good, Frank understandably pissed at him and likely to kill him at some point, and Madani literally out to kill him at that very moment, Billy knew that the only option for now was to run - far and fast and immediately. “Where do you want me to park, Billy?” Her voice drew him out of his thoughts - soft and sad and scared… but not scared of him, never of him, and Billy paused for a moment. “Billy?” It took everything in him to answer, the four words draining him.

 “All the way up.” The car began to move again, and Billy’s thoughts turned to what he was going to ask in only a few minutes. He’d never defined what was going on with her, never had to, because it worked well without admission. She never asked anything of him, except with her body, when her fingers were clutching his hair tightly, or when they were wrapped around him as she took him into her mouth, or when her heels dug into the backs of his thighs as she pulled him closer to her. But she cared, he knew she did - why else would she have been willing to put up with so much of his shit? As the car slowed again, Billy took a deep breath.

 Being apart from her had been hard - harder than he’d thought it would be. Billy Russo didn’t form attachments, didn’t let people in. When he did, bad things happened - both to him and to them. Billy’s life had been one long string of failed attempts to fit in, to make friends and to make good decisions after another, and the present situation was no different. He hurt the people that he cared about, and so he didn’t care about anyone but himself - because by making so many bad decisions, he’d already hurt himself to the point where it didn’t matter anymore because it couldn’t possibly get worse. Or, at least he’d thought it couldn’t - before her. Billy felt the car stop, but neither of them moved or spoke. Ok. Ok, Russo. Think.

 As he’d pulled the trigger on the men sent to collect him from Anvil, he’d realized what he needed to do. As he’d pressed the button to blow the building up, he’d decided that he was going to do it - but only if she showed up. And when he’d seen her, standing in the doorway with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide and filled with fear as she watched the building go up in flames behind him, Billy knew that it was the right decision, because she was there. He had to ask - and even if she said no, at least he’d know that he tried - tried one more time to care for someone more than he cared about himself.

 Without warning, Billy sat up and took a deep breath, looking at her profile in the dim light before climbing quickly out of the car and making his way to the cement wall in front of it, head hanging down as he looked at the sprawling city below him. I can’t protect her here, not anymore. It’s all or nothing. I leave and she’s safe… she comes with me, and she’s safer.

 Billy heard the car door close softly before she came to stand next to him, both of them still silent. I’ve already lost everything… I won’t lose her, too. “I want to protect you.”

----

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here: Interlude (No Filter Necessary)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 2512

Rating: M. Language, mentions of sex. 

Author’s Note: The idea for this story popped into my head about 2 pm today, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So you’re welcome, and I’m sorry that I ignored my follower event stuff and writing other planned pieces to get this one out. 

This chronologically takes place between chapters 10 and 11 of He’s Not Here - before the second gala, but after Reader meets Frank and Maria. The relationship is still VERY new.

Parts 1-12 can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)!

Summary:  Running into a few women from his past, Billy’s got to fgure out how to make an important announcement... but simply speaking it out loud isn’t enough.

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain@madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants@suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @dylanobrusso @ilkaeliseb @editboutique @marauderskeeper @delicatelilyflower @drinix @likethetailofacomet @king4thesirens @ymariejp @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ethereal-heavcns @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @zaffrenotes @audreychaz @jovialyouthmusic@yesixoxo @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @swiftyhowlz @introvertedlibrary @littlemermaidprobz @ladyblablabla @writing-for-a-chance

Billy had been home from deployment for just over two weeks, and he’d run into his fair share of women from the past in that time, each of them wanting to know why he hadn’t called, why he hadn’t responded to their messages, why he hadn’t inquired as to whether or not they were available to ‘take care of him’. Billy had simply shrugged them off, unwilling to admit to them that he was seeing someone, that he had you to go home to, meaning that he didn’t need them anymore. You’d met Frank and Maria, and that made it more real for him, more… meaningful. He felt content with you, more than happy to climb into bed with you at night and wake up wrapped around you in the morning. He didn’t need them, but at the same time time, he didn’t feel like he should have to tell them why.

And it was a good feeling, but it was still one that Billy was uncomfortable with, because he’d never dealt with an attachment like you before, had never had to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - go home with someone. A simple “not interested”, with a roll of his eyes had always been enough, but even though he’d been away from the bars, away from the women that had seemed to flock to him like they couldn’t help themselves for many months, they were still waiting, still hoping, still reaching for him in ways that he was unwilling to respond to. Circling. Like vultures. He’d been with other women after meeting you - and you knew it, because he’d been honest with you about them, but it had been a long time, so why were they still so eager?

 There had been two in the seven weeks between meeting you and actually taking you to bed. He didn’t remember anything about them, aside from the fact that they’d been more than willing to jump into bed with him with very little prompting. After you, when he was still trying to convince himself that you were going to be nothing more than a friend with benefits - that he’d be able to keep you at arm’s length, even when he looked forward to talking to you and seeing you - there had been four others, spread out over the course of nearly four months. Kaitlin, the first one after you, and Jen, the third woman had been two of the ones that he’d run into after returning. “William Russo.” Jen had stopped him, placing a manicured hand on his arm as he walked down the street, lips pushed out into a pout that he was sure she thought was seductive. “Where have you been?” He rolled his eyes.

 “Iraq.” He pulled his arm away from her, crossing both of them across his chest. “Just got back two weeks ago.” Her eyes lit up.

 “Need to blow off some steam, William?” She raised an eyebrow, and as he looked her over, he didn’t understand how he had ever found anything attractive about her. “I remember what you like.” No you don’t.

 “We fucked once, Jenny. One time. And I left immediately after.” He stared at her pointedly but the girl was determined.

 “Oh, come on. I’ve seen your Instagram posts, seen the way you show off for everyone. No girlfriends, no relationships, no attachments. I just wanna fuck you again, William.” She leaned in, her voice dropping. “It wasn’t a problem before.” Rolling his eyes, Billy shook his head and stepped away.

 “Good seein’ ya, Jenny.” As he turned and kept walking, Billy heard her laughing behind him, telling him she’d talk to him soon. What was I thinking?

 Kaitlin had been the same; Billy had crossed paths with her while at the grocery store, buying - of all things - groceries to cook you dinner. He’d heard her voice calling out his name from the end of the aisle, and as he raised his head to look at her, she smiled widely, showing off teeth that were almost as white and perfect as his own. “Welcome back, soldier.” Inwardly, he’d winced, but he’d just nodded at Kaitlin, gesturing to the basket that she carried over her arm and raising an eyebrow. “Quick stop on my way home. You look like you’re stocking up.” Billy had nodded, looking down at his cart, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw the bottle of wine you’d asked him to buy. “Um.” The girl had cleared her throat, stepping closer to Billy - but not uncomfortably close. “I know… it was a one time thing, Bill.” She sighed. “But if you’re…interested in hanging out sometime, I’m… available.” Goddamn women. What’s wrong with them?

 He straightened up, looking down at Kaitlin, with her curly blonde hair and bright green eyes. Billy had liked her - a lot, actually, at the time - but he realized that it had been a simple physical attraction, nothing more. There was no connection, no spark, no… “Thanks, Kait. I appreciate the offer.” Billy winked at her but it was a tired response, turning back to his cart. “I’ll keep it in mind.” The rest of the time he’d spent in the store, Billy thought very carefully about the women he’d been with, about where they lived (if he knew), and what they did, trying to figure out a way to avoid every single one of them at once. I could move out of New York, that might work.

 Though he knew it would have been easier to come out and tell them that he was seeing someone, the words wouldn’t discourage many of them, especially with how many of them he’d repeated the phrases “no attachments” and “no relationships” to them. Fuck, I’m an idiot. The words meant nothing, as he’d learned over and over while growing up. Actions were what drove home the point.

---

A few days later, you were at Billy’s apartment, waiting for dinner to get delivered. He was scrolling through his phone on the couch, thumbing through Instagram when he got a message alert. “Fucking hell.” Billy swore under his breath as he navigated to the list of messages, his eyes widening as he saw how many he’d missed from various people, how many message requests he had. Jesus, these fucking women. He quickly looked through them, shaking his head at the fact that there were multiple phone numbers, a few unsolicited pictures, even a few sexts that had gone unanswered. I should make my account private. He thought it over for a few minutes, and then Billy Russo did what he did best - he took action.

 Billy stood, slipping his phone into his pocket and moving into the bedroom, where you were sitting on his desk chair, brushing your hair. “Hey, Russo.” You smiled at him in the mirror and Billy leaned down, kissing you on the side of the neck. He felt the way you shivered as his lips made contact and he reached around you, encircling your body with his arms, his lips latching onto your skin. “Mmm, Billy, what’s this?” You sighed, tilting your head away from him as you watched him in the mirror, and when he glanced upward, staring into the mirror himself, he saw that you were smiling. Look at her.

 He stood, moving back to the bed and sitting down. “Come here. Now.” He waited as you put the brush down, standing and walking over to where he sat. “Sit.” You lowered yourself onto his lap sideways, and he brought a hand up behind your head, fingers in your hair as the other arm went around your body, pulling you closer. You mumbled against his mouth, asking him what was going on, and he shrugged his shoulders, taking your lower lip into his mouth and biting down on it. “I donno, I just wanna kiss you.”

 For the next fifteen minutes, that’s exactly what he did. Billy kissed you passionately, alternating between biting and sucking on your lip, teeth grazing against your skin, tongue slipping into and out of your mouth, yours doing the same with his. This. This is what they couldn’t give me. Just you. Breathless, Billy pulled away, looking down at you before pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. “Billy…” Your voice was low and a little hoarse, and Billy loved knowing that he could make you sound that way, throw you off by doing so little. “The food, what are you…” He shook his head, bringing his mouth back down to yours as he eased you down onto the bed, one arm moving to his back pocket to pull out his phone. Quick.

 He unlocked the phone while the two of you were still kissing, quickly opening the camera app as you pulled away from him, taking a deep breath and tucking your face in against his neck. He smirked at the camera, half of his face hidden behind your head, his comforter clearly visible beneath the two of you as he snapped a few pictures, and then turned his head to press his lips to your hair before easing you back into a sitting position. “Just taking a few pictures.” You exhaled and looked at his phone, reaching out with one finger to touch the screen. “I thought… it was time that I post a picture of us.” I hope she says yes.

 “What do you�� Billy?” You looked at him with wide eyes, tucking your hair back behind your ear. He set the phone down, reaching out with his fingertips to touch the side of your face. “Are you sure?”

 “Yes.” He nodded firmly, shaking his head. “I won’t tag you or anything, but…” He sighed again. “I’ve run into a couple of women since I’ve been back, and they’ve tried to… they asked… I just want to show them that I don’t need them or want them. Me saying it won’t matter but…” He picked up the phone again, tuning the screen to you. “This says something. This says… ‘taken’… it says ‘not interested’ it says… ‘I’ve got someone’.” You were frowning, but you nodded slowly.

 “My face is partially covered.” You shook your head. “I mean some people will know it’s me, but…” He frowned too.

 “We can take another one if you want, I just thought… you can stay anonymous for now, but…” He stared at the screen. “Women aren’t the nicest hen they want something. I want to keep you from that, keep you away from the stupid decisions that I’ve made.” You laughed, reaching up to take his chin between your fingers, pulling his face back to yours and biting down on his lower lip, teeth dragging along it as you tugged it.

 “Now I know why you bit me so hard and kissed me like that.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked again. Yep. “You wanted to make sure my skin was flushed and my lip was good and swollen… like you’d just attacked me with your mouth.” Billy licked his own lips, eyes focused on you. She gets it. You sighed, a smile on your face. “Fuck ‘em, Billy. Post it. Tag me. I don’t care.” You stood, straightening your shirt and running your fingers through your hair as you glanced back over your shoulder. “And Billy?” He inclined his chin at you, a grin on his face. “Next time you want to make your prior conquests jealous? Fill me in first. I can’t think of anything more satisfying.” You walked out of the room and he laughed loudly, flopping back onto the bed as he opened Instagram and selected a picture to post.

 His eyes were filled with a warmth that he almost didn’t recognize, but his mouth was curved into that same shit-eating smirk that drove everyone wild. His fingertips were visible, coming around the back of your head, and though the top portion of your face was obscured by your hair, your nose and lips - which were looking quite puffy and freshly bitten, if he was being honest - were quite visible below his stubble and against the skin of his neck , which was flushed, just the same as yours was. Perfect.

 Billy typed one word in for the photo’s caption, hesitating for barely a second before hitting “OK” and posting it, and as it came up on the screen, he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding and reread what he’d typed. Mine. He sat up, looking at the image again before standing and putting the phone back into his pocket. It’s out there now. He shrugged his shoulders and made his way into the living room, where you sat curled up on the couch with your own phone in your hands. He felt a vibration and pulled his phone back out, another laugh slipping out of his mouth as he sat down next to you. “Yours, eh?” He looked over at you and you nodded, darkening your screen and setting your own phone down on the arm of the couch.

 “Yeah, Russo. You told everyone that I was yours, I thought I’d return the favor.” Smiling, Billy pulled you onto his lap and buried his nose in your hair, feeling more at ease than he had since before he’d left on his last deployment. 

---

[breanime]

Heartworm (Part Six)

Double posting takes so long! WARNING: this part has mentions and descriptions of violence, read with caution!

*gif not mine*

You decided that Detective Mahoney was the only good cop in New York City. After he’d introduced himself, he’d asked if there was a place you could go to talk. You knew Trish would have questions if you stayed at the office, not to mention your coworkers, so you took the detective to a small deli a few blocks away. He had assured you that he only wanted to talk, and you decided to play it cool until you could get a final read on this guy. So far, all you could tell was that he was a genuinely concerned cop who was actually interested in justice.

It was his poor luck that you were only interested in Billy.

“Is this okay,” he asked, “I mean, you won’t get written up for leaving early or anything, will you?”

“No, this is fine. I was on my way out anyway,” you answered, “So, um, Detective Mahoney—”

“Call me Brett.” He smiled.

“Brett,” you faked a smile back, “How can I help you? Oh,” you widened your eyes, pretending to remember something, “is this about the noise compliant I made with the city a few months ago? I told the super people had started loitering outside, but he didn’t seem to care…”

“No,” he shook his head with a chuckle, “That’s unfortunately outside my realm of influence,” his smile turned into a serious look, and you braced yourself, “Actually, I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking for you for most of the day. There’s something I need to tell you—to warn you about.” You nodded, silently encouraging him to go on. “Billy Russo has escaped police custody.”

This was, obviously, not news to you, but hearing it from the detective made your breath hitch. “When?”

“Yesterday morning,” he answered, “We have cops staking out his last known addressed and every badge in the city is looking for him.”

“That’s… That’s good,” you swallowed. You tried to bring back all the confusion and helplessness you felt when Billy had first been arrested and recreate it now. Mahoney—Brett—seemed like a kind man, but you couldn’t let him get to Billy…not yet, at least. “But why are you telling me?”

“It’s on record that you and Russo were a couple.”

“That was over three years ago,” you shook your head, “I haven’t seen Billy since then—at least not in person.” You ducked your head down shyly. “I did… I did watch the coverage on the news.” You looked back up at Brett. “But that’s it. I hadn’t heard from Billy since we broke up.” You shrugged. “I could give you a list of places he could be, maybe? I don’t know if it would be any help…”

“I would appreciate that, Ms. Y/LN,” he said, “but I don’t think you understand the danger you’re in. Russo’s dangerous, unhinged. It was reported that he asked for you by name the day he escaped. Now,” he folded his hands on the table, “it’s been three years since the two of you have talked… Why would he do that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you answered, “I mean, he was locked up all this time, maybe he was just going through a list of exes and my name happened to be the one he said outloud.” You shook your head. “I imagine Billy wasn’t doing well in a cage.”

“He wasn’t in a cage,” Brett said, “We were keeping Russo under constant surveillance at a psychiatric hospital.” You made an effort to make a confused face. “Russo sustained some major injuries and some significant memory damage,” he explained, “His therapist said he might not even be competent to stand trial.”

“So he’s faking,” you said, knowing he wasn’t, “Billy’s a smart man, I’m sure he knows it’d be better for him to get off on a plea deal than admit he’s guilty.”

“It’s possible,” Brett shrugged, “His therapist and doctors think he’s legit. Either way, you might be in danger.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. “I want you to give me a call if you hear from Russo,” he instructed.

“Of course.” Another lie. “I mean, I don’t—I don’t think he’d bother coming after me, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“I appreciate that.” Brett gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to have to come to you with this, I can get a squad car to stay outside of your apartment if you want…”

“Oh no, no,” you shook your head, “That’s not necessary, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking up police resources. Besides,” you gave him a weak smile, “I’m telling you, there’s no way Billy would waste time with me. He’s probably halfway out of the country by now. And even if he’s not, Billy never tried to get in contact with me theses last three years, there’s no reason he’d try now.”

“Maybe,” Brett agreed easily. Too easily. “But still, keep an eye out; make sure you’re locking your doors. Maybe see if you can stay with some family or friends until this blows over.”

You chuckled. “You make Billy sound like the boogeyman.”

Brett didn’t laugh. “He’s dangerous, Y/N. He took down a room full of guards and killed at least two men in the last 24 hours.”

Two? You knew about Arthur, who could…? Your mind conjured up an image of Billy in his blood-soaked clothes. He probably didn’t get that hideous shirt and fur-lined coat from the hospital. “So,” you took a steadying breath, “it’s all true? Billy… Billy really did betray Frank?” You had spent so much time trying to block that out, to ignore and deny it in your head, but you had to know—especially since Billy, as he was now, didn’t know.

The detective nodded. “And that’s the other thing: Castle will be looking for Russo. If he comes to you…”

“Call you,” you waved his card at him with a half-smile, “I will.”

Brett stayed with you at the deli for a while longer before he had to head out. You waited until you were sure he was far away to finally take a breath. You whipped out your phone and typed in ‘NYPD Detective Brett Mahoney’ into Google. Of fucking course. Your hunch about him was right—he was a hero cop. There were pictures of him next to Daredevil. He arrested Frank back when he first became “The Punisher”—Brett was a badass with the face of a choir boy. Your respect for him grew as you scrolled through the news reports, interviews, and list of accolades connected to his name. He was vocal in his disdain for Wilson Fisk—a bold move for anyone who lived in the city, let alone a cop—and was an active member of the community. He seemed like a really nice guy, a good guy…

…a threat.

As much as you didn’t want to, you decided to take the long way home. You lingered in the deli for another 20 minutes after Brett left, then made your way to a bookstore, a pet shop, two music stores, three boutiques, and killed an hour watching some teenagers breakdance on the sidewalk. You were pretty sure Brett wasn’t watching you, you got the impression that wasn’t his style, but Frank… Frank would totally do that. You considered what you knew as you wandered around the city: you loved Billy, Billy didn’t have his full memories, Billy still thought he loved you, Billy was guilty, the cops were after Billy, Frank would want revenge, revenge would mean death, and that would leave you… Alone again. Hell, as far as you knew, you were already alone again. How in the hell would you know where Billy was if he wasn’t directly in your line of sight? You sighed to yourself, stepping into a pawn shop and staring unblinkingly at the assortment of things. You had no idea what you were going to do—you knew what you were supposed to do, what common sense and decent protocol would call for—but your common sense had taken a back seat to your emotions. Sighing again, you looked at a glass case of knives and your mind immediately went to Billy.

“What do you do if I come at you from behind?” Billy had asked you.

You wanted to make a dirty joke, but the seriousness of the situation and Billy’s face made you reconsider. “I go for the eyes and create a distance between us while you’re distracted.”

“Good. But what if I grab you by your hair?”

You swallowed down another inappropriate comment. “I stomp on your foot or try to kick you in the shins to get you to lose your grip.”

Billy nodded. “Good,” he stepped over to you, put a hand on the back of your neck and kissed you, “Now let’s practice how to disarm a man.”

You sighed, but complied. Billy whipped out a knife—because he almost always had at least one blade on hand—and took an offensive stance. This wasn’t a new practice between the two of you; Billy had taken it upon himself to teach you how to defend yourself months ago, after reading about some guys on the subway harassing a woman. His dedication to your safety was sweet, you knew for a fact that the number of people he cared about was a low one, and that these impromptu training sessions were his way of making sure you were taken care of. You took a defensive stance, placing your feet slightly apart and raising your hands to protect your face—just like Billy taught you. He made a move to approach you (much slower than he would if he was really attacking someone), and you side-stepped him, avoiding any close contact before slapping your hand over his wrist, twisting it, and grabbing the knife out of his hands.

“Nice,” he licked his lips, “Very nice. Let’s try it again.”

So you did. You spent the next two hours going through drills. Billy was an excellent teacher, he met you where you were and catered the lessons to best fit your size, strength, and style. You weren’t nearly the natural fighter Billy was, and you damn sure weren’t a Marine, but Billy always said you were skilled. He took pride in telling Curtis how you knocked him on his ass on Tuesday, or showing Frank the bruises on his chest from when he made you practice shooting with himself as the Kevlar-wearing, moving target. You liked the training a lot, too. You got to wrestle Billy and learn useful defensive moves all in one. Truth be told, you almost looked forward to the day some asshole mugger tried to come at you.

You would never forget the day that actually happened.

You had been walking home from the corner store. Billy had texted you saying he’d be home late since he was viewing some properties for Anvil’s home office, so you decided to run out and get some snacks for the house. You had your burlap bag hanging from your shoulder, full of chips and a six-pack of beer, and you were a block from your apartment when you felt a tug on the strap of your bag.

You were yanked forward, and you turned to see a tall man in all black. You stumbled over your own feet as he dragged you back into an alley. He pushed you against the concrete wall and you felt the breath rush out of you. You didn’t get a second to scream or cry out before he shoved a knife under your throat.

“Drop the bag, cunt,” he ordered, hot breath fanning your face. “Or I open your goddamn throat all over the sidewalk.”

You did as you were told, heart racing. The blade was cold against your skin, even in the warm summer weather.

“Now kick it,” he gestured behind him with his head, “over there.”

You gave your bag a feeble nudge with your foot.

“Do you think I’m playing with you, bitch?” He hissed, nose pressing against yours as he glared down at you. You felt the sting of the blade cutting into your skin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. He was still glaring at you when you opened your eyes and punted your bag across the alley. Your eyes scanned his face, trying to memorize every detail. Billy was going to lose his shit over this. The man sneered at you, and you felt a chill go through you. “Good girl,” he grinned, “now take your clothes off.”

You froze. Suddenly an image of your downstairs neighbor’s daughters popped up in your head. They were 15 and 13, nice girls, and you knew for a fact that they walked to the corner store all the time, night or day. Rain or shine. What was going to stop this guy from doing the same thing to them? What was going to stop him from hurting someone else?

You were going to stop him.

You lifted your arm and grabbed his wrist. You twisted it with all your strength, ignoring his shocked sound of surprise. His grip loosened and you took that moment to snatch the knife out of his hands. The blade sliced through the palm of your hand a little bit, but you didn’t even feel it. You punched him in the face with your free hand, making him fall back a bit. That gave you the perfect opening to kick him in the chest, knocking him on his ass. You tackled him to the ground and straddled him, putting all of your weight on him to prevent him from moving. His eyes widened when you put the knife to his neck.

“Whoa, whoa,” he gasped out, voice shaking, “I was just playing,” he attempted a laugh, “Don’t—don’t you know we were just playing, you and me? It’s a joke.”

You pressed the knife harder onto his neck. You watched the blood bubble up and felt a surge of excitement bloom in you. “A joke?” You asked, smirking down at him. “Would it be a joke,” you watched his eyes water when you grabbed his hair and forced his head back, “if I open your goddamn throat all over the sidewalk…” Your smirk turned into a full-on grin. “…bitch?”

He had started sobbing now. “No,” he begged, “no, please, I’m sorry, I won’t ever do this again, I—”

“—Shut the hell up,” you hissed, pulling his hair. He cried out. You looked down at this man, this weak piece of shit, and wanted nothing more than to stop him from ever drawing breath again. You wanted to be the last person he terrorized, the last women he called a bitch.

You wanted to watch the life drain from his body.

But you couldn’t.

You flipped the knife around so that the handle was against your fists and pulled your hand back. Then you punched him right in the face with all your anger guiding you. You felt his nose crack, but you didn’t hear it because he was screaming. You hit him again, and again, and again. The handle was wet with blood, and your heart was pounding. You kept punching him until he wasn’t screaming anymore. A quick glance showed he was still breathing, so you got off of him, grabbed your bag, and walked home.

You thought more about that day as you waited in line at the pawn shop. You had tried to block it out, to forgot about the fear that went through you that day, followed by that feeling of absolute power and control…it had been intoxicating. It had been frightening. But Billy had been there, and he had been your safe place.

You waited until you got home to call Billy and tell him what happened. You barely got the words—“I was attacked”—out of your mouth before he was asking you a hundred questions and rushing home to you. You assured him you were fine, and you were, but he hadn’t seemed to hear you. By the time he got home, you’d bandaged your hand, cleaned off the knife, and put the snacks and beer away. You were on your third beer when Billy came bursting into the apartment.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled you towards him and engulfed you in a crushing hug. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him. This was where you were safest, where you belonged. Billy provided everything you needed just by existing.

“I’m okay,” you said into his chest, “I’m okay. I knocked him out.” You had pulled back then. “Oh shit, I should have called the cops. I should call the cops.”

“I already did,” he said, voice muffled as he spoke into your hair, “Left an anonymous tip, saw the squad cars on my way home.” He exhaled, and you felt him relax against him. “I’m so—fuck,” his hold on you tightened, and you leaned into it, “I want to kill him.”

“I wanted that too,” you admitted, looking up into Billy’s dark eyes. They were electric with rage and emotion, and you knew yours were too. “I was going to.”

He kissed you, long and slow, and you kissed him back. You wanted to absorb him, to keep him this close to you always. He stared down at you, unblinking, when you both pulled back for air. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he said, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathed out. “I—Billy, is there something wrong with us?” You asked. “We shouldn’t be so comfortable with this. Because I’m not joking, Billy, I was going to stab him. I was gonna kill him. I—I—”

“—The only reason he’s not in a body bag at this very moment is cause the cops got to him first,” Billy interrupted, eyes hard, “I’ve killed for less, Y/N, and anyone who hurts you,” he put a hand on your face, eyes boring into yours, “is gonna die bloody. It’s you and me, Y/N, I’d do anything for you, and I want you to know that I love you, every part of you,” his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, “and if you had killed him…I would have helped you bury the body.”

That was it. The last thing you needed to make your decision. Billy was a killer. He betrayed Frank, he hurt Curtis, he was a traitor to his country if the news reports were right. Hell, Billy had told you himself that he’d committed multiple war crimes. Those were all facts, undeniable, inexcusable facts about him that you could never change or hope to ignore. But you loved him—that was a fact too. You had never felt more alive, more like yourself, than when you had been with Billy, even up until the very end. He was it for you. So you were in. You were all in, wherever he would go, you would follow.

You practically ran home, heart pounding with your revelation. It was like a bomb went off inside your head—everything you had, you were ready to throw it all away for Billy. You were made for him, and he was made for you. You knew, as you clutched your bag, that from this point on—nothing but death would keep you from him. You had given up on him once, and you had tried to move on with your life, but it hadn’t worked. You had been operating on auto-pilot, just going through the motions and pretending to be okay with being without him, with living in black and white. But now Billy was back, and he brought color back into your life. This time, you would fight for him. You would fight with him.

You practically ripped the door open when you got back to your apartment. You ran into the living room and felt yourself deflate a little. Everything was exactly the way you left it. You checked your room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. Empty. Sighing, you sat down at the kitchen table and put your head in your hands. Where could he be? What if he was hurt? What if Frank got to him? What if… what if he left you? Feeling trapped, you went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. You decided to drink instead of panic. It was getting late, but there was still time in the day. Billy could be back any minute. You poured yourself a drink and went to stand at the counter, contemplating whether you should bother cooking while you waited for Billy to get back when you noticed a manila folder on the counter. This was new…so Billy had been back. You put your glass down and picked up the folder. It had his name on it: Russo, William. The file was packed with papers and packets, full of details of his life. There were little color-coded tabs for Castle, Frank, Hoyle, Curtis, Madani, Dinah, and Rawlins, William. There were notes from what you assumed were his therapy sessions, and pictures of him in the hospital. Words like ‘dangerous’, ‘killer’, ‘psychopath’ jumped off the page. You flipped through the contents of the file, a sense of dread creeping into you. Finally, under all of the papers, was a handwritten note from Billy that had your breath catching.

Y/N,

I’m sorry. I want you to know that I love you. And I’m so sorry.

Goodbye.

******************************************************************************************

Hohohhohohoho! So this was my first time ever writing Brett, how’d I do? Also, anyone recognize where Y/N works? And ohhhh man, let me know what you thought of these last two chapters. Your feedback fuels me! Love you guys!

TAGLIST: @floralpeaceofmind​ @delicatelilyflower​ @dylanobrusso​ @ladyblablabla​ @banditthewriter​ @something-tofightfor​  @starsfragments​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @hisgirlwednesdayaddams​@fictionwillneverdie @maria-beretta​ @sadnessxvodka​ @ymariejp​ @sunnycolors​ @moonlightsay​ @its-all-o-kay @damagelove​ @keyeluh @itsmylife98​ @funerals-with-cake​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @teacuplotus​ @king4thesirens​ @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @thebabblingbook​ @tartelette-aux-fraises​ @madamrogers​  @charlylama​ @iaintnofurry​​ @k-buggz2001​​ @whitewolfslittlesilverfox @drinix​ @elanor-of-imladris​ @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @julliiaaq​ @holamor​ @ymariejp @shadowhunterscloset @songtoyou​ @anabella-baby @sssilverssserpent​ @heyitslexy

[something-tofightfor]

The Punisher Season 2: Episodes 6-10

Initial reactions as I watched these episodes.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. I literally tagged it four different ways for spoilers so if you read them after this it’s your own damn fault. 

6: Nakazat Amy looks like every typical 16 year old girl at the mall Oh frank. Frank frank frank. You with that gun Curtis is such a genuinely good guy. Goddammit. Fuck. He better not bang her. Alright AMY. Don’t bring up the kids. Frank is so fucking sad. Oh so he sees through the transformation bullshit. And he’s apologizing for spying on her. Interesting. SELF ASSURED BILLY IS COMING BACK SLOWLY it’s interesting that she isn’t giving him rules TONGUE So these pictures are literally of men kissing. Interesting. Roughhousing with Frank, must be 18 to ride this ride I actually really liked this scene in the trailer with the gun training. Looks like Billy can do more than 20 pushups now And he’s reading his own file.... WHO IS KM Billy and Curtis...  and he APOLOGIZED. Jeeeeeesus. He’s fucking crying. I can’t. He’s so sad. So angry. So confused. Brett and Dinah again.... hmmmm. Brett still doesn’t know that Frank was there. Madani feels guilt about lying about the carousel.... HE CALLED her out about lying. Frank stole a limo, ok. This confrontation between Pilgrim and Madani is... not that tense. But i mean maybe don’t point your gun st someone on a sidewalk in broad daylight? Is the subplot of this show a fucking Russian election meddling scheme? Yes. Yes it is. When Frank Castle tells you to get on your knees, you get on your knees MY FUCKING GOD WHY DO YOU LET HIM LIVE Where is billy getting money from? He’s finding a group of friends again... he’s earning his spot at the head of the pack again. Giving orders sounds ... natural coming from him. This is billy trying to reassert himself. Trying to do “good”. The accent is much more pronounced when he is in the moment. You’re not a petty criminal Billy. You’re better than this. Way better. Would you do it all over again, frank? Maybe. This poor kid, and Curtis trying to clean up the mess. Again. Welp, guess it doesn’t matter that Frank let him live. Oh Dr. Dumont just hid her most recent notes. Why is she protecting billy? ... he has poor impulse control and yet you slapped him and stabbed him in the damn hand with a letter opener.... and you have a degree in psychology? K. I just threw my glasses across the room. This is not happening. This group therapy session between Frank, Madani and Curtis is constructive.

7: One Bad Day Madani’s interview... ONE YEAR HAS PASSED. MADANI BEING HONEST. Her poor choice in sexual partners got her here I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THE LETTER OPENER lmao madani having to talk about sleeping with Billy in detail. This is what i wanted. Madani admitted to her mistakes. THIS IS EVERYTHING #justiceforstein Frank needs to stop people from telling him what the fuck to do. He can live with killing people ... but it’s not easy. Madani is lying about never wanting to kill Billy herself... but she doesn’t have the balls to do it. Frank doesn’t want to kill him, but he’s going to do it because he feels that he OWES Curtis and Madani. This bitch chewing her pills kills me More billy sex flashbacks ... she’s fucked. The biggest fucking sigh to ever come out of my mouth just came out of my mouth. .... so they’re getting off on hurting each other. I really hate this bitch She’s lying. Billy’s being honest again. The sex helped him more than therapy or medication. Knowing that he has “friends” out there helped. Oh this bitch is a manipulator. Holy shit. Oh. But he put someone ahead of himself for once. Interesting. He just wants to know what it feels like to have part of everything. That’s... different. BYE BITCH. Billy. You. Are. Not. A. Petty. Criminal. The fuck are you doing? It’s really interesting to me that Billy is choosing this path because he fell in with an easy, shitty crowd. He’s better than this. He’s capable of so many things. I get that this is because he’s a wanted man... but.... STILL TALKING ABOUT BETH... She sold you out FRANK, KAREN FUCKING PAGE WOULDNT EVER this drug addict is going to fuck everything up. Everyone wants Billy dead... except Madani... and I think Billy is included in this group of people that want him dead. Talking about a “new normal” This applies to frank and billy and madani and even Curtis ... HMMMM Interrogator Frank Madani and Curtis just standing there and watching with bored expressions on their faces is the best Lots of hand stabbing in this season. Good thing Curtis is a medic. BILLY DIDNT MURDER FRANK’S WHOLE FAMILY we’ve officially reached the point in the season where i feel BAD for Madani. .... nevermind. (Not even two minutes later) This is intense. Goddammit LILLIAN he didn’t kill anyone. He did everything he could to NOT kill anyone. Interesting. OH FUCK THE VEST OH FUCK billy is having a panic attack. Holy hell.

8: My Brother’s Keeper I don’t like the title of this. Billy remembers. Not everything, but enough I think. I have been waiting for billy with this gun for MONTHS Did not disappoint. Frank is literally running down the street in the Punisher vest, like.... is that a good idea or nah? Curtis just saved his ass twice LET HIM REMEMBER YOU ASSHOLES OH WELL OK THEN. Frank and Curtis... are having a moment and it’s much needed. Frank’s analysis of Billy’s response to seeing him and having Frank fire at him breaks my heart. He looked at Billy and saw family. “he does not know what he did” OH FRANK. Oh sweet frank. He had a shot... and couldn’t take it. Billy came back to Krista.... He said please again. Billy Russo is going to beg? He didn’t have to Oh lord. He remembers and knows that frank betrayed him but not WHY. god this is heartbreaking. Ben Barnes is an incredible actor. His tears and the emotions are so goddamn real. This scene after she lets him back in is one of the best acted scenes on TV. “I know but i don’t know. I don’t feel it” Christ almighty take my heart and stomp on it why don’t you “He was my best friend, but he was pointing a gun at me” ... oh Billy. She can’t help you. She’s manipulating you because she wants power. She needs to feel wanted. FUCK YOU KRISTA DUMONT Curtis had a shot too... and he didn’t take it. Neither of them could do it. Curtis just wants to be normal. He wants to have a life - an “AFTER” ... Frank screaming at this girl is great. That’s not the way she thought the day was going to go. Brett knowing about Castle is really interesting to me. This conversation is really interesting to me. He’s not fucking around. Billy would give his life for Frank. And he thinks that he’s not the man he was before... THERE ARE MORE PIECES BITCH. I THINK KRISTA WAS IN THIS FUCKING CULT Now frank is seeing billy ... and Curtis is calling him out on it Still walking around in the vest... This is Frank’s moment.... OH FUCK YES BILLY He just punched a hole into a wall and I think I had a stroke OH YOU MANIPULATIVE BITCH Do not choose her billy Russo ... goddammit Lmao Amy just tried to kill Curtis OH SHIT THIS IS THE ANVIL SPEECH AGAIN. Oh Billy. You’re thinking very big here. I have nothing to say about this little dinner between Curtis and Amy and Dinah Frank visiting Maria and the kids at the cemetery... 

9: Flustercluck Frank’s gonna drop some knowledge. “Let me be what I’m meant to be” This bitch is trying to make plans with Billy in the future.... uhhhhhhhhhh This isn’t Billy. Yeah she “accepts” him.... but..... Ok so they’re growing in numbers and in strength and in visibility, quickly. They could have established Billy this season without making him fuck this broad. He wants to know why frank tried to kill him... but does he REALLY?!?!? So wait Schultz is in this cult?!? Uh oh. This guy knows who pilgrim is. WHERE ARE YOU GOING AMY?!? ..... billy in madani’s new apartment. And he found the journal. HE CUT OFF THE DUDES THUMB OH MY GOD Billy is there. Oh my god oh my god oh my god This is nuts. Billy and madani have more chemistry out of bed than in Madani telling him the TRUTH. YES YES YES YES YES ... but.... there’s no need to be such a bitch. BILLY WITH THE FUCKING MIC DROP i can’t tell if she’s scared or happy or aroused - maybe all three? Oh Amy, you just killed this girl. Why did you leave your bag in the other room. This is a trap. Frank’s very nervous for Amy Billy... deserves more? He thinks he deserves more, at least KRISTA HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT YOU. Billy doesn’t want to run. THERE IS NO ��us” KRISTA. i hope he snaps her fucking neck. Like you barely know this woman...and i get that you feel a connection because she’s been your therapist.... but this isn’t normal. This isn’t right. She.... she’s using you, she’s LYING about something and i am pissed that i can’t figure it out I AM STRESSED AMY SHOT SOMEONE GOOD LORD Dad Frank 🤤🤤 Omg is Krista going to kill madani Just two girls that have both boned Billy Russo hanging out in the same room....  this is going to end well Pilgrim’s real name is... Robbie? WHO ARE YOU THOUGH Who did he steal money from?!? And what did he do with it?!?! 10: The Dark Hearts of Men ... another flashback. :( billy is getting his ASS kicked... and so is frank.... holy hell TONGUE Frank and billy.... GODDAMN. I am sad. Holy fuck Billy’s watching them 24 hours earlier?!?! Oh god someone’s dying The wine is called “decoy” ... billy is listening to this. Madani’s going to go DEEP with this i think... Frank and Curtis are reminiscing about Billy. frank misses being active duty too... just like billy Frank admits they’re the same. Oh yikes. Pilgrim killed some people. He’s very bloody ...and snorting something. Cool. Did he just effing reset his jaw?!? This is what happens when you’re in a cult for 12 years.... you have all kinds of pent up anger and kill 5 people in 3 minutes Instinct and emotion.... justifying it afterward.... Hmmmmmmmmmmmm Frank has done the things billy has done though.... not on the same scale, but.... Welp Pilgrim is apparently on his rumpsringa ... hookers and blow and murder Billy is always alone.... true. But now he thinks he isn’t. And that’s dangerous ... oh, ok. I mean your wife is dying but go on and get a BJ from some methhead Frank and Curtis live on this roof now Billy creeping from a nearby rooftop is me waiting and watching for new content from this show after the teaser was announced at the end of the January promo but before we had any other information John and Rebecca in s sweeter moment ... and she’s questioning him... and she had every right to do so. This description is like Frank and Billy rolled into one... AND SOMEONE STILL LOVES HIM. Krista is getting Madani drunk....... And madani just said she wanted him dead... not the right answer Dinah. “He is just a man alone”.... Billy is a great motivational speaker. ITS A TRAP FRANK. He knows you’re coming. Boom. And here we go Oh this is good This is well shot This is disorienting Frank is getting his ass kicked again Billy is the only one not in a mask. Well. I thought you were better than this billy Holy shit this fight choreography I’m gonna be real pissed if Curtis dies Oh fuck frank just killed civilians FUCK. His desire for revenge killed innocent people. He isn’t any better than Billy ....and Curtis killed someone too. Yikes He was there the whole time. FUCKING billy. Krista is twisted as hell. And i hate her but i gotta kinda respect her for fucking going after what she wants (i reserve the right to change this opinion at a later time and i hope i get to) She’s trying to prove herself to billy..... but I’m not sure if she actually cares or if she just wants the satisfaction of knowing she helped. Fuck... frank is screwed.