#frank x maria

[punisherdefender]

Frank and María ♡

[darlingshane]

Frank ❤ Maria | THE PUNISHER — for @daredevilexchange's Valentine Blitz.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

And all that I have

Part 8 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series

Warnings: Smut (18+), cockwarming, conversations about CNC (consensual non-consent) play, kink discussions, talks about non-consensual kinks, toxic relationship, conversations about burglary, insecurities, angst, obsession with reader, mild body insecurity. Charred the dove and the dove kinda liked it.

Disclaimer: I want to be clear that although the conversations are centred around non-consent, the entire thing is completely consensual, if reader was uncomfortable, the conversation would stop. They are discussing a scene they plan to do in the future, so be warned that this will come up later in this series.

You loved him.

You knew it now, without a doubt.

You’re gazing at him from your spot at your desk, peeking over your laptop so that it’s not obvious to him that you’re staring.

You watch him scratch at his eyebrow, deep in thought as he reads the report on his desk. You feel your stomach flip as he squints for a second, no doubt reading something he disagrees with on the page.

He runs the backs of his fingers over his cheek, scratching at his beard, deep in thought, unaware that just a little distance away, you’re admiring him with every piece of your heart.

Whatever  you had felt for anyone else before was nothing compared to what you were feeling for him right now. Your relationship with Dominic had been nothing but a shell, hollow, it had been filled with moments of self- doubt, separated by spaces of indifference that you’d tried to convince yourself was happiness. But it wasn’t, it wasn’t contentment or satisfaction or delight. Being with Dominic had been nothing but a mediocre meal when you were starving, only perceived as amazing because you were unfed.

Now, with Billy, you knew what it was like to really feel.

“Billy.” You say softly, watching him blink and raise his head. He gives you a tired smile.

“Yeah?”

“I’m bored.”

The corner of his lip twitches before it pulls up into a smile.

He looks down at his report before looking back up at you. 

“Feeling for anything in particular?”

You study him for a moment, before closing your eyes.

“It’s been two weeks since we last had sex-”

“Two weeks and six days…” He pauses when you open your eyes to look at him curiously, “...To be exact, but,” He clears his throat, “who’s counting?”

You can’t help planting your face in your hands and letting out a little laugh.

“Fine, it’s been two weeks and six days, and there’s still about a week left before we can- and I really want a distraction from it.”

He swallows, nodding eagerly, in full agreement with your words.

“I get it," Billy agrees, and you watch him drop his papers onto the desk with a decisive thump, "It's been actual hell to not be able to follow through with any of the things I want to do to you."

You give him an amused raise of your eyebrows, a slow feeling of delight spreading in your abdomen. You take a slow breath to help ease the feeling.

“Well, that didn’t help distract me, just made me want you more.”

The look on his face is one of pure mischief.

“Oops.” Is his only response.

You blink at his audacity.

“You know,” You say, pushing yourself to a stand, “You really shouldn’t tease, there’s no chance of you winning this.” You advise, moving toward him. You don’t stop till you’re leaning against his desk. 

You take your time, moving his phone and staple remover out of the way, and when it’s just papers, you lie down on his desk, smiling proudly as you turn to face him.

The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches his teeth, eyes skimming your body as you lie on his desk, knees bent for comfort. After a moment, the pins in your hair begin to stick your scalp and you grunt as you unpin your hair and let it splay across his reports.

“Everytime you tease me, I play this game in my head where I come up with payback.” He says, eyes fixed on you, “At the rate you’re going, you’re not gonna be able to walk after.”

You smile at him, your only response is to raise one hand, and undo the top button of your shirt.

His eyes follow the movement. 

“I doubt,” You hum undoing another button, “That you’d be able to last long after four weeks of no sex.”

“Maybe not.” He sighs, “But I’ll find a way.”

When you reach for a third button, his hand reaches up to cover yours.

"Mercy." He whispers finally, "You're pretty, and I want you and I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Poor baby." You tease.

He grunts out a laugh, closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"God, you're really in for it when I’m fully healed."

“What am I in for?” You tease, tugging your shirt open as wide as possible.

He looks up, as if asking a higher being for his sanity back.

“You really wanna know? It might scare you.”

“God I hope it does.”

He groans, low in the back of his throat.

“Alright. I’ll tell you.” He looks down at you again, the back of his fingers tracing over your cheek softly.

You smile, closing your eyes as he touches you softly.

“I want to tie you to our bed, and use you whenever I want. I want to leave that sweet little cunt dripping with my come.”

He lets out a soft sigh, his thumb tracing over your lips gently.

“I want to… rent a cabin in the woods, and chase you, make you run, play with you and when I catch you- I want to make you regret running.”

You swallow, excitement swells like a wave within you.

“I’d love that.” You confess to him softly, “Make me regret running from you, sir.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes a hue of darkness you’ve never seen before.

His fingers slip down your chin, tracing its way over your jaw.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… open about this.”

Maybe I'm just right for you, you think helplessly.

You smile up at him.

“I’ve always wanted to explore that side of myself, but Nic wasn’t very accommodating, so I hid those desires from him. But I’ve… I've wanted to be touched the ways you want to touch me for a long time.”

You think about the last time you’s asked Dominic to choke you- he’d done it so poorly, despite the way it had intensified your orgasm, and then he’d never done it again, it was like he wasn’t willing to learn what really got you off, so why would you ever try to push him further, or ask him for more?

Billy grips your jaw tightly, pulling you back into the present, into his dark, hungry eyes.

“Let’s come up with something, that we can,” His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip eagerly, “do together.”

You feel a smile creep onto your face.

“Of course, Mister Russo.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours softly, contradicting the rough implications of his words.

“Come sit on my lap.” He offers when he finally breaks from the kiss, and you nod easily, rising from his desk, giggling when you feel some papers stick to your arms. He helps you remove them, and then guides you into sitting on his lap, your legs being tossed over one of the arms of his chair.

“Will this even hold us?” You ask, resting your cheek against his chest.

He wraps an arm around you, humming an affirmative.

“Am I hurting you?” You check next, worried.

“Not at all, Mrs. Russo.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “Now, tell me about your limits.”

You smile, looking down, playing with your fingers.

“I’m not that into anal, or hitting. Those are hard limits. I like being spanked.”

Billy hums in acknowledgement, his arm on your knee to keep you steady.

“What about slapping?”

You feel your insides clench.

You shake your head, looking up at him.

He smiles, the hand on your knee moving up to cup your cheek.

“So you like small amounts of pain? But nothing harder than a spank?”

“Yeah.” you answer, breathless at the conversation. No one had ever made you feel this comfortable and safe talking about topics like this.

“I like being scared.” You offer up, “I wanna be scared into acting like a good girl.”

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“God you’re so fucking hot.”

You giggle in disbelief.

“What about pet names? I know you like the nice ones, but what about degrading ones?”

“I like ‘slut,’” You offer, “But not ‘bitch’ or ‘whore.’”

You groan when a thought pops into your mind.

“Literally, I think calling me your little plaything would make me see stars.”

His laugh is deep and alluring.

“What about you?” You ask, desperate to hear him affirm your desires with his own, “Tell me some things you like.”

“The idea of forced breeding is nice,” He starts, and you nod eagerly, already obsessed with that idea, held down and made to take his cum, being teased about having his kids. It makes your skin flush with heat.

“I have- uhhhhh-” He hesitates, and you adjust yourself to watch him carefully.

“Sorry, fuck, it’s embarrassing to say.” He mutters, and you realise that maybe he needs some reassurance.

You raise your hand, cupping his cheek, loving the feel of his coarse beard against your hand. You trail lower, fingers caressing his neck, before you try to slip your fingers under the collar of his button up shirt.

“You can literally tell me anything. I won’t run, I promise.”

He goes still, looking up at you, something unnameable in his eyes. After a moment, he blinks, looking down.

“I have a little fantasy about being a thief, maybe you have something valuable I want. Maybe it’s not what you think it is.”

You swallow, nodding your head eagerly, thinking about what it would be like to find him rifling through your home, touching things that weren't his to touch. You think about the way he’d grab you, about the way he’d lean in to kiss you harshly, the way he’d rip at your clothes-

“T-that’s a nice idea.” You whisper hoarsely. 

You think about him all masked up and taking you on the floor of your home. You shift a little in discomfort caused by your definite arousal.

“I can't- I really need to be inside you.” He rushes out.

“Couch?” You offer, and then you slip off of his lap when he nods.

While he settles himself, you reach up under your skirt, pulling your panties down the length of your legs, smiling when you catch him staring at you.

You carefully climb onto him, reaching to undo his belt, the sound of it making you more and more aroused. 

“You're so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, and you glance up at him feeling a little shy under his obsidian gaze.

“Thanks.” You whisper, your voice so soft that you barely hear it.

The back of his hand traces your cheek.

“Do you need help?” He asks, and you manage to be amused at the question, considering how absolutely wet you were between your thighs.

You shake your head, clenching when you finally get his cock free, giving him a few gentle strokes that has him groaning and dropping his head back.

He's so big, heavy in your hand, you love the slight curve of him, the wideness.

“Ready?” You ask, and he raises his head to look at you.

“If you are.” He says, voice pained.

You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips before raising your hips to guide his thick cock to your entrance.

His head falls back again, his breathing shallow as he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling.

When you start slowly sinking down on him, you watch him suck in a deep breath, his hands gripping harshly at the couch.

“You're so wet, sweetheart. Fuck.” Billy exclaims, finally able to look at you once more.

You clench around him, your prolonged denial in support of his, claws at the walls inside your mind.

You feel a pinch of pain, the size of him stretching you open but you pay it no mind, your wetness makes taking him in so much easier.

Your eyelids flutter as you sink down onto him fully, you bite your lip harshly when the head of his cock presses firmly to your cervix.

“Oh my god.” You groan, panting, unable to comprehend the world around you with his cock so deep within you.

Before him, you weren't so desperate. You could usually go a month without sex without any problem at all, now though, Billy made lasting four weeks the biggest challenge.

He stays perfectly still, But you can't help yourself, making micromovements on his cock, rolling your hips a little just so you can feel something more.

“Princess.” He warns, and then groans loudly when he feels you clench hard around him in response. He loses himself for a moment, rolling his hips into you, before he grits his teeth, stopping his motions.

“You've never called me that one before.” You purr, trying to distract him while keep your body still.

His hands grip your thighs, blunt fingers pressing into your skin, sliding up to grip your ass harshly.

“It's cause I've got you so spoiled right now.” He hisses, "Couldn't tell you no if I wanted to.”

It makes you clench down on his cock a second time. You watch your own desperation mirror itself in his expression.

“You're so big, Mister Russo.” You moan, gripping his shoulders to keep your body steady.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to relax the vise grip your cunt has around his stiff erection.

Billy has always thought of himself as a man with great strength, but it's in this very moment, he learns precisely how weak he is. Watching his gorgeous, breathtaking wife, try her best to sit still on his cock, brings out a darkness in him, gives him ideas of what exactly he's going to do the moment he can.

No woman has ever felt as good as you, and he knows no woman ever will.

You're having your own debate in your head at the same time, wondering how you're going to last another week without him fucking you into oblivion.

“Tell me what you want to do to me.” You plead, eyes squeezed shut to hide from him.

He doesn't speak for a moment, the only sound filling the room is both of your laboured breaths.

“I want to see you submit to me completely.”

You squeeze your eyes tighter, nodding.

I want that too.

“And I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes, I want to fuck you until you're just my messy pile of wife, no brain at all.”

You whine, a low sound in the back of your throat, you can almost taste the pleasure on your tongue as if it’s something physical.

You roll your hips, feeling him inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass tightens.

Your eyes meet his, half lidded, panting and desperate as you gaze at one another, you know that it wouldn't take much to get you off, and you're trying your hardest not to, you really really want to support him this way.

It makes you a true mess, aroused beyond thought. You can see it in his eyes too, delirious yearning looking right back at you.

“What else?” You ask, needing to know the exact ways he wanted to unravel you.

He licks his bottom lip.

“I wanna fill you up, watch my come drip right out of you with the number of times I come inside you.”

“Yeah? M-maybe you can… use a plug if you get tired of watching your cum drip out.”

The sound he makes next is nothing short of a gowl, pulling you closer until your noses brush, You swear there's a fire in his eyes that you've never seen before.

“I can't stop picturing it,” he whispers roughly, one hand leaving your ass, trailing around to your front. You cry out when the tips of his fingers press to your aching clit, “The way you'll look when I'm done with you, passed out of course, my come messy between your thighs, I'll ask you if you're okay and you wouldn't be able to do anything more than make a little sound.” You tilt your head to the side when his finger begins rubbing softly at your swollen bud, he doesn't take kindly to the movement, his other hand reaching to grip the back of your head, forcing you back to him, “Maybe I'd keep fucking you. Even when you're out cold I could still fill you. You'd be so far gone you wouldn't even want me to stop.”

You nod, whining, knowing that you'd let him do anything he wanted so long as he was doing it to you.

“I know how that makes me look- I've been so ashamed of this side of me, but I want this, every little bit of it, and I want you.” You confess.

“There's nothing wrong with you I promise.” He says, leaning in to kiss you softly, his fingers speeding up their touch on your clit.

You gasp into his mouth.

“S-stop or I'll-” You find that the words evaporate on your tongue.

“You'll what, little wife? Come around my cock? Don't you want to?”

You shake your head violently.

“Not if you can't. Don't make me.”

He drags his fingers away, and you sigh in relief despite the way your body burns, aching for you to just take the edge off.

He kisses you again, harsh and all-consuming, you hum happily, trying to return his passion with a little of your own.

“No more.” He says, and you nod, rising from his cock, your cunt clenching as you get free of him, registering the emptiness, before you feel disappointment immediately follow.

He reaches down, grunting as he wraps his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing in what you can only assume is a method to avoid orgasm.

He’s beautiful, the way his skin is so flushed and his breaths are shallow and you think it’s mostly because of you, and you wonder why on earth would someone like him ever-

You swallow nervously, looking away.

You don’t want to ask, exhausted with your own insecurities to voice them.

Luckily you don’t have to, because at the same time, your cell on your desk starts ringing.

You turn to it, standing, adjusting your skirt before taking the few steps to it. You sigh internally when you see it’s your mother calling.

“Hey mom.” You greet softly.

“Hello. I’ve been sending so many messages. Why haven’t you responded? I thought you were dead.”

You try to hold it in but a laugh comes out against better judgement.

“Dead? Really? Wouldn’t someone have given you a call?”

“Who? Who’s going to call me if you die? Dominic? Your friends? This mysterious husband I have never met that might be the person doing the killing?”

“Why was murder the first thing you thought of?” Humour dripping from your voice.

“Because you’re living with a random stranger and I’m very worried.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I get it mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reply to your messages, I’ve been trying to take care of Billy.”

After a moment, you swear you can hear the anger leave her over the phone.

“Okay well… how is he?”

You feel like you've won something.

“He's doing great, recovering well, that's what the doctor said, a few more weeks and he'll be recovered.”

“That's good to hear. When am I meeting him?”

“Soon.” You promise.

“That's fine. I also have something I want send to you. Can you give me your new mailing address?”

“Yeah, no problem, I'll message it to you.”

She's silent for a long time, and you know she's thinking about saying something terrible to you. You tilt your head back in frustration.

“Mom? You still there?” You ask politely.

“Are you doing okay? Dominic said you gained some weight.”

Your mouth parts in surprise.

“Why are you still talking to him?” You ask in disbelief, looking down at your body automatically. Why did everyone care so much about the way you looked?

“I called him. I wanted to hear his side of the story and to hear more about this Billy guy.”

You stiffen, realising that Billy was still in the room somewhere overhearing this conversation.

“Tell me that you didn't believe a word he said.” You beg.

“Some of it was definitely a lie, I remember when you'd called to tell me you'd broken up, that sounded genuine. I don't think you actually cheated on him, and I know you well enough to know that gold digging isn't your style.”

You smile, “Thank you.”

“But,” she continues, “One thing that confuses me is the custom rings. How did those happen?”

“Um,” you squeeze Your eyes shut, shaking your head, “We um,” Fuck, you didn't know what to say, “We had them made the day after.” You lie.

“Why? Why a stranger? Wouldn't you have tried to get the marriage annulled first?”

Shit.

“Um, we tried and then decided not to on the same day. Hey mom? I gotta go, my next meeting arrived early.”

“Okay, cupcake, talk to you soon.”

“Yeah,” you say with a shaky voice, “Bye, love you.”

You hang up before you can hear her parting words.

You stare at your phone, forgetting how to breathe for a long moment.

When he says your name, you turn quickly, looking at him. You finally find the strength to take in a breath.

“I'm fine. I just need a minute, be right back.” You rush out, walking out the room without a second thought.

You press your hand to the wall outside, taking a few deep breaths. You wanted to hide, to stop being perceived at all.

You glance at Martha, sitting at her desk, typing into her computer. When she senses you looking, she turns her head with a smile.

“Are you doing alright, Mrs. Russo? Do you want me to get you some water?”

Mrs. Russo. That was you.

You straighten.

“I'm okay, thank you though.” You say with a smile, turning in the direction of the elevators.

You press the button for his floor when you're inside, and only after you shift your feet impatiently, do you realize that you're not wearing any panties.

It gives you more confidence if anything, you were just sitting on your husband's cock, and he'd asked you to. He'd called you beautiful, he'd wanted you. 

You squeeze your hands into fists, Dominic would not take him from you.

He’s in a meeting, his receptionist says to you, apology in her voice, and when you inquire with who, you find out that it’s just his boss.

You give her a smile, before walking right past her desk and knocking on his door.

You open it without waiting for a response, a smile on your face when you see both men looking at you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but can I please have a moment to speak with Dominic? It’s urgent.”

Both men glance at each other, and you know that his boss would not deny you your request.

“Of course,” The man says, rising from his chair, “We’ll pick this up later.”

Dominic only nods, his face set into harsh lines.

The door closes behind him softly, and you don’t speak for a moment, studying the landscape picture on his wall.

“That day we broke up,” You declare, not turning to look at him yet, “You told me that I wasn’t as pretty as some of your old girlfriends, you told me my laugh was irritating, that my friends annoyed you. You gave me reason upon reason as to why you didn’t like me and why we weren’t a good match, and I’d sat there and apologised to you.”

“Look,” He interjects, “I’m sorry I was so harsh-”

“-I’m not done.” You interrupt, turning to look at him, showing him that there was nothing between you anymore, that he could look into your eyes all he wanted, he would not find the version of you he once knew.

He lets out a breath, raising his eyebrows to seem amused by your intervention. 

You didn't care.

“I can’t believe I ever did that, apologise to you for not being what you wanted. If I could go back, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

He blinks, stiffening his shoulders.

“And then, you come back, assuming that I’d forgive you for the shit you said, and get back together with you. But I was never going to, marriage or not, I’d rather be alone forever than spend another minute with you.”

“So stop trying to mess with me, stop trying to destroy my life over something that happened after you broke up with me. You can’t hurt me anymore, and if you try to, I’ll show you exactly what I’m made of.”

You turn to the door, reaching for the handle.

“I love you.” He blurts, making you freeze in place.

You can’t help it, laughing softly at his admission.

You pull his door open, a smile still on your face as you glance back at him.

“You don’t even know the meaning of the word.” 

.

“Where’d you go?” Billy asks when he sees you come in a few minutes later.

“To give some closure.” You say with a smile, approaching him, cupping his face in your hands, and leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.

You feel him relax under you, you hum softly at the feeling of it.

“Are you in any pain?”

“A little,” He confesses, “I might have pushed myself a little too much.”

Your eyebrows draw together, worried that you might have hurt him.

“I’m sorry, my full weight-”

“-was perfect. It was the tensing up when I got too close to coming that caused the strain.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, one hand pressing to your tummy.

“Why do you even like me?” You rush out, in disbelief that you were literally making power moves just now, to come back to him with your insecurities.

Maybe power was exhausting to hold on to for you.

“Because I do.” He says softly, with an encouraging tone of voice, “Because you see me.” He’s quiet for a moment, biting the edge of his lip in deep thought. 

“Growing up in the system was bad, it was real shitty. I don't think I’ll ever truly recover from the abandonment. I pretend I’m okay, and I pretend that I’m whole but,” He shakes his head, “I’m just pieces on the inside. Broken glass.”

“You make me feel like something more. A mosaic.” He utters, as if the word has just come to mind.

You take in a deep breath, your face contorted into one of sorrow.

I love you, Billy Russo.

You simper, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Let’s go home.” You suggest.

He’s nodding before you can even get the sentence out.

.

The hardest thing is keeping your hands to yourself. You want to touch him all the time, run your fingers through his hair, slide your hands under his t-shirt, gently trace the veins on the back of his hands. You want to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows and taste his collarbones and you try your best to resist for a couple of reasons.

The first reason is that you don’t want to get him hard- you don’t want to torment him any more than he’s already being tormented. The second reason is because you worry he’ll eventually get annoyed with your insistent touching, that he may find it irritating eventually. The smallest hint that he’s getting annoyed with you might be enough to dissolve you into thin air, you don’t think you’d ever recover from it.

So sometimes you find yourself reaching for him, only to draw back at the last second, hoping he doesn’t see how hard you’re fighting yourself.

You should be more open about it- you know that- he tries so hard to open up to you and the least you can do is respond with the same effort.

And yet, your experience with Dominic lingers. 

You and him had been so good at one point too, and the next thing you know, every aspect of you had irritated him.

How long would it take before Billy felt that way too?

This was bad, you had no support system in place, no one to talk to aside from him, no one to tell you that your thoughts were unreasonable. This, this was why staying with him wasn’t sustainable.

You’re lying motionless in the bath when he finds you after excusing himself to take a work call.

You turn when you catch movement, smiling up at him when he approaches. He’s got an apologetic look on his face, one that tells you that he has to leave you alone before he even says it.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes, coming to sit on the edge of the tub, “There’s an issue with our servers and I have to go.”

“It’s 8 p.m.” You state, “You can’t do this tomorrow?”

He shakes his head.

“Some of our guys are at risk without the intel.”

You take a deep breath, giving him your easiest smile. You wanted to fight, but maybe in this moment you didn’t know if you were capable of winning.

“Alright, Billy, I’ll see you later.”

He leans in, kisses the top of your head, then your cheek, and then tilts your head up for a quick kiss.

He leaves the room, and you hear him grab his things before the front door closes.

You close your eyes, letting your body sink below the surface of the water.

.

You sneak out maybe an hour later.

You wait by the door till the guard stationed there gets up to use the bathroom, and then you slip out in your fluffiest coat, making it to the elevator right outside with your heart slamming into your ribs.

Only after the doors close do you realise that you don’t have anything to help you get back inside, and that you should have maybe left a note. No worries though, you know Billy will call once he gets home and finds you gone.

You’d called Martha earlier, and begged her to find the address you were looking for, apologetic for disturbing her evening.

You take a taxi there, and you knock on the door softly once, in the cold air, before realising that you hadn’t knocked loudly enough.

The second time you knock, you hear footsteps, and you suck a deep breath in, smiling at the peephole before you hear the door unlock.

Maria looks concerned, her lovely brunette hair pulled over one shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She says with worry heavy in her tone.

You try to give her a cheerful expression.

“I’m great, I was just a little lonely, Billy left a while ago.”

She opens the door wider to let you in.

“Yeah, Frank left too.”

“I figured,” You admit, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind some extra company?”

“Of course! I’m just cleaning up. You can hang your coat over there.” She says, pointing to a place behind you.

You thank her, shedding your coat with minimal difficulty and hanging it on the spot she had pointed to.

You follow her into the kitchen, where she’s mostly done with her dishes, only a few left to dry.

“Can I help?” You offer.

“No, thank you, I’m almost done. I have some leftovers if you want. Chicken parm, or do you want tea or coffee or something?”

You’re a little shy in her presence, trying to pick something easy so that she doesn’t insist.

“Water, for now, though I might pick at your teas later.” You say politely.

She smiles, and you feel so soothed by it, you find yourself smiling back. Not long after, she places a glass of water in front of you. You thank her again, sipping on it gratefully.

“So,” She starts off easily, looking over her shoulder to glance at you while she wipes a pink plate dry, “What brings you here at this hour?” 

God, you wanted to tell her the truth, fold like a stack of cards because you didn’t think you could lie to her. For once, you wanted to be honest about your situation.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to her, and you definitely couldn’t do that to Billy. You’d ruin their friendship if you said anything, you’d ruin his relationship with Frank, he’d hate you for it.

You let out a pained breath.

“All my friends kind of hate me.” You murmur, deep in thought, “and you don’t seem like you’d hate me.”

She nods in understanding.

“Why don’t you tell me everything?” She says easily, and you nod, willing to try.

“My ex- Dominic- we’d been together for two years before we broke up. He works at Anvil, and for a long time I thought I was going to spend forever with him.” You look down into the glass of water, studying the stillness.

“Looking back at it now, I realise how wrong we were together. He never really liked me, I was just a convenience, he only kept me around because it was better than being alone, you know? We took care of each other at first, but somewhere along the way he stopped caring and then any little thing I did pissed him off.”

You watch her finish one plate, reaching for another.

“Our breakup was really brutal, he literally just picked me apart and left me outside my apartment, and then three days later I woke up married to Billy.”

“And you think,” She says, interrupting your thoughts, “That this one is going to end up like your last one.”

“Isn’t it?” 

She smiles, shaking her head.

“You wanna know how long I knew Frank before we got married?”

“A reasonable amount of time?” You offer.

She laughs.

“Four months.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“I’m in no place to judge.”

She grins.

“I got pregnant three months into dating him, and we were married a month later. The first time I met Billy, was stepping on him when I woke up to pee in the middle of the night.” Her shoulders shake as she laughs, remembering the entire story.

“According to Frank, he’d climbed into our small apartment at the time from the fire escape, drunk off his ass, and crashed on the floor before Frank could help him to the couch in the living room. The way Frank says it, he just tossed a sheet over Billy, and stuffed a pillow under his head where he passed out and went back to sleep. I woke up, and stepped on him and he didn’t make a sound,” She laughs,” I screamed though, because there was a random man on the floor and I’d just put my full weight on his leg and he hadn’t made a sound. I thought he was dead.” 

You try not to grin at the imagery.

“After some convincing from Frank, I fell asleep, and in the morning both men were gone. Billy… well he didn’t like me at first. He was sure I’d trapped his friend in the marriage or something, but over time, he… honestly he didn’t really warm up to me until I went into labour.”

You sit there, transfixed by her story.

“Frank thinks she came a week early, but she was just on time. He was supposed to get back before she came but something top secret kept him there longer- anyways- Frank called Billy and Billy showed up at my doorstep in maybe ten minutes. Back then, he had this old, beat up Harley- strictly american- you know?” She glances at you as if you’re supposed to understand what she’s saying, but you can only shake your head in confusion.

She grins, “Sorry, he used to be real patriotic, American brands as much as possible,” She shakes her head, “He’s grown out of that since his discharge. Anyway- that was maybe the first day he actually cared about me, held my hand all the way to the delivery room, almost punched a nurse that told him family only. I was so mean to him too, probably almost broke his hand with the contractions. And then Lisa decided to wait, had me in labour for fourteen hours.”

Your eyes widen drastically, mouth dropping open. She laughs when she sees your face, finishing up her last mug to sit next to you.

“Yeah, gave Frank just enough time to get there. And then there were four of us.”

She blinks, smiling, deep in thought.

“Billy was scared of her, he didn’t hold her for at least two months after, he’d somehow worked it into his head that she wouldn’t like him, but one night I got real sick, and while Frank was taking care of me, he’d begged Billy to come over and take care of Lisa. The first time Frank put her in Billy’s arms, she cried, at the top of her lungs. I thought Billy would have given up immediately, but he didn’t, he rocked her in his arms till she was asleep, and even after he held on to her for as long as he physically could.”

“The moral, of my very long story is that Billy isn’t someone who gives up at the first sign of trouble, and he’s definitely not someone that gets annoyed with someone he loves. If he chooses you, he’s going to stick with you. He knows what it’s like to have no one on his side, and because of that, his loyalty is unbreakable.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. You wanted to know him the way she did. You wanted stories like this to smile at when you thought of him. You wanted to know what he looked like, riding an old era motorbike, and to see him so drunk he can’t make it to a couch.

“I lost all of my friends because of him.” You whisper, heartbroken, “They thought I cheated on Dominic. Friends that I loved, blocked me because they thought I’d done something terrible.” 

She reaches to place her hand over yours, squeezing tightly.

“Maybe they weren’t very good friends to begin with.” She suggests softly.

You nod, understanding the point she was trying to get across. 

She makes you tea, something calming that makes you sluggish, offers up one of Billy’s old shirts for you to sleep in, and shows you to the guest room. Not once, does she suggest you go back to his home, so easily welcoming, that sleep is attainable within minutes.

Maria, considers for a moment while watching you sleep, that she should tell someone that you’re here. No doubt Billy doesn’t know you left, travelled all the way here by your lonesome. She unlocks her phone, pulls up her husband’s number, and hesitates on the call button. Maybe Billy’s reaction to finding you gone would set the both of you straight. 

She grins deviously, putting her phone away and getting ready for bed herself.

.

It’s almost three a.m when Billy gets back home. He’s tired, his shoulders sagging with having to carry the weight of them. His eyes hurt, feels so much discomfort in his whole body that only sleep can provide.

His shower is quick, functional, though the warm water begs him to stay and enjoy it, he gets out as soon as he can, ambling to the closet to grab a pair of comfortable pants for sleeping.

He moves in the dark, working on a memory of where everything is to stop him from making too much noise, not wanting to turn on the lights either, he really doesn’t want to wake you.

In the dark, his bed is deliciously comfortable, he lies on his front, before the area where his appendix was removed screams in protest and he’s forced to roll onto his back. He tucks his body under the soft duvet, feeling a thick sense of coziness overcome him.

He reaches a hand out- won't be fully comfortable until he touches your skin, confirming that you're there. In his drowsy state, he struggles to find you. He groans, moving even closer to where he thinks you are, fingers scanning the bed, only finding chilled sheets. He opens his eyes, squinting at the other side of the bed and sees no shape that even resembles you. You simply weren't here.

Were you sleeping somewhere else? 

He sits up, rubbing an eye so that he can see a little more clearly, turning to flip on the bedside lamp to confirm that you really weren't next to him.

Yeah, definitely not in bed.

He stands, sways, groans, pads his way to the living room to find it empty, then searches your office, then his. He says your name, but the only thing that answers is the silence.

He grabs his phone, looking into the almost too bright screen, trying to decipher words that help him find your contact. He squints, pressing the call button before waiting.

Your phone rings and rings and rings and no one answers.

It's then, that Billy begins to feel the panic. He takes a deep breath, calling your number again, searching his house for anything he might have missed, anything at all that tells him where his wife had gone.

He calls for you, all sleep erased from his mind, he does a finer walk through of his place, looking for items out of place, signs of struggle.

If you'd left, someone would have seen you and told him, right?

What if you'd been kidnapped?

Billy feels his lungs seize up.

He looks down at his phone again, hands shaking, opening up the location app he'd installed just in case. He'd told you about it, told you how to disable it if you really didn't want to be found. This would help him narrow down what kind of situation he was in.

He lets a breath out when he sees your little symbol pop up- you'd chosen the image of a black cat for some reason- he zooms out, eyebrows drawing together when he sees where your phone is.

He closes the app, calls Frank.

“Whad'ya want, Russo?” Comes Frank's sleepy voice after a few rings.

“Is my wife in your house?” Billy asks, a lot calmer than he feels.

Frank says your name in question.

“Yes, Frankie, ask Maria.”

He hears some shuffling.

“It's four in the morning Bill, I'm not waking my wife for that, I'll just check the guest bedroom.”

Billy waits, listening to Frank's slow breaths, his hand gripping his phone tightly, his other hand curled into a fist.

“Oh yeah, there she is.”

Billy sags with relief.

You were okay.

“I'm coming.” Billy announces.

“Use your spare, I'm going to bed.” Frank grunts, before ending the call.

Billy grabs his coat and the keys to his fastest car and nothing more, leaving his apartment quickly, wide awake now more than ever.

He breaks every speed limit possible, makes it to Frank's home in half the time it usually takes. His body hurts as he has to move slowly now, quietly so that he doesn’t disturb the peace in the house.

He uses his spare key, locking the door behind him, double checking Frank's security while he's here. 

He finds the guest bedroom easily, having stayed here countless times, he knows this place like he knows his own.

His stomach twists, he wonders why you left. Did you not want to be around him? Had something else happened? He knew that the chances of you running away were low, ever since he'd shamelessly listened to the conversation between you and Dominic (He'd bugged the office of course) he'd had an inkling that maybe you were growing to love him as much as he loves you.

The door clicks shut behind him, and he feels a sense of ease wash right over him at the sight of your sleeping form. 

He pushes his coat off his shoulders, torso bare underneath as he climbs into bed and hovers over you.

His hands cup your face, waking you with a little start.

“Billy?” You hum, voice so tiny, his little wife disturbed from slumber.

He can't help it, leaning in to kiss you softly, followed by him wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Why'd you leave home, baby, hmm?” He asks, cheek pressed to the top of your head.

Your voice is muffled in his chest.

“Was lonely.” You say.

It damn near breaks his heart.

“I'm sorry.” He sighs, and he means it with every bone in his body.

“S’alright, you're here now.”

And he is, crawls under the sheets, wraps you in his arms, and feels the stress drip right out of him. Only then, does he allow sleep to take him.

.

He wakes to laughter. He blinks, sitting up, an automatic response to the sound.

Hearing laughter while he slept was never a good sign. In the group home it meant that some poor kid's face was being written on. In the military, it was shaving cream on your hands, or dirt in your bed.

He bolts up, looks around, determines no danger before he relaxes.

He smiles, slips out of bed, and goes in search of one of the shirts he keeps around for situations like these.

.

“Honestly,” Maria says enthusiastically, uncapping the milk she just pulled from the fridge, “I thought we were goners, Billy was still recovering from that gunshot that almost made him bleed out in the desert, and Frank had several grazes, but even injured like that, the burglars never stood a chance.”

Your eyes are wide in suspense.

“Where was Lisa?” 

“In bed beside me, Frank shook me awake and we hid in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he came and got me cause the fight was over.”

“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying. I've had some almost run-ins with burglars as well at my old place.”

“Really? What happened?” Maria asks, really interested, concern in the undertones of her voice.

“It was close to Christmas and almost everyone in the building was out visiting family, but I was studying for an exam the next day for my old job.” You think back to it, deep in thought, “I remember hearing heavy footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of doors shaking. I had my lights off because they’d made my eyes burn and I was just using my lamp lights, so it maybe looked like I wasn’t home. The person was trying each door, shaking them hard. I can still hear the rattle. I texted Nic, and he’d told me to hide, but before I could call the police, the rattling just stopped. I sat in silence for a long time. I was kind of shocked dumb, and I didn’t call the police because it seemed like he left without any real harm being done. I probably should have, but also I really needed to study for this stupid exam. I did tell my landlord though, and she tightened security and it never happened again. I really regret not calling the police though.”

Maria nods, relating to you.

“Fear can really hold you in place. I’m sure whoever it was, got what they deserve, don’t stress about it too much.”

You smile, mimicking her nod. She really understood you, and you find yourself hooked to the Castles just a little bit more.

Just then her smile widens as her eyes flit behind you for just a second.

You turn to look back curiously when suddenly you get pulled into someone’s arms. You know it’s him from the moment you touch, you grin widely at the way he squeezes you.

“Excuse us for a second, Maria,” Billy says, hand gripping your wrist to tug you in the direction of the guest bedroom, “I need a moment with my wife.”

She nods, before remembering something.

“There are kids in the house.” She warns sternly, locking eyes with Billy.

“Wet blanket.” He shoots back as he tugs you around the corner and out of the room.

The door to the guest bedroom can only slink shut before you’re pressed against it. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth meets yours, your heart fluttering so surely that you’re sure it’ll fly soon. He kisses like he’s starving, hands holding your face, mouth eager against yours, you copy his fervour, pulling him closer by the shoulders, the delight of feeling your passion mirrored isn’t lost on you.

You smile up at him happily when the kiss breaks, only for him to drop his head once again, ever eager for just one more kiss.

“Is everything alright?” You whisper softly, confused about his feverish kisses.

“I’m sorry.” 

“...For?”

He touches the tip of your nose softly with his.

“Where do I even fucking begin? I’m sorry I left you alone, I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak out, I’m sorry that I’m the reason you have no friends-”

“-That one wasn’t really all you,” You interject, “They didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

He shakes his head.

“I’m just… sorry for all the pain I put you through.”

You can’t bear to hear him say it, your throat squeezes tight at the very sound of the words.

“It’s alright,” You reassure, rising onto your toes to kiss him, “We’re alright.”

.

You peek at him while he drives, wondering if now was the best time to talk to him.

He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow curiously, eyes turned back to the road.

You think that maybe there’s no time like the present, and you take a deep breath, reaching out for his hand before you catch yourself, moving your hand back to your side.

Before you can get fully there, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. You turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“Notice you’ve been doing that a lot.” He murmurs, tugging your hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of your hand, “Reaching for me and stopping halfway. Making fists with your hands to stop yourself. Why?”

“I just, don’t want to annoy you is all.”

He huffs in amusement, you feel his warm breath on the back of your hand.

“You’re funny.” He hums, giving your hand another kiss.

“I’m serious.” You whisper.

His lips part, eyebrows drawing together as he slows his driving a little to look at you.

“You’re serious?” He echoes, “You think you could annoy me?”

“I think I could annoy a saint.” You grumble.

“You know that I’m… obsessed with you right?” 

“Are you? I hadn’t noticed.” You say dryly.

He huffs out a breath of amusement for a second time.

“Do you know what that means? It means I’ve seen your medical records.” 

You glance at him, shock running down your spine.

“And?”

“And I’ve done background checks on everyone you’ve ever met.”

You try to swallow but your throat has gone dry.

“And?” You whisper, his hand is still in yours, holding on to you.

“And I know where you went to school, I pulled your student records, I’ve scoured the internet for your face and I’ve probably seen photos of you that maybe you don’t even know existed. I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and nothing could have stopped me,” He turns to look you in the eye, “Not even you.”

“I’m sorry to scare you, but if you think that I don’t know how needy you are, how touch starved, how badly you want to be held, what makes you cry, you’re lying to yourself. I know all of these things, and I want you because of them.”

You close your eyes, trying to process his words in a reasonable way.

God, there had to be something seriously wrong with the both of you. Him, for saying those things, and you, for managing to somehow feel reassured by them, even if there was a little fear mixed in.

You don’t say another word to him the rest of the way back.

There’s a silence all around you as you follow him into the apartment, a whirring in your ear that sounds like waves of static, disconnecting you from reality.

You reach out, gripping his arm tightly. He turns, looking down at you with an unnameable expression.

“I need you.” You say softly through half-gritted teeth, pulling him roughly, feverishly toward the living room.

He doesn’t say a word, and you’re grateful for that, he’s said enough already.

“Take it off.” You breathe, reaching for your own pants, pulling them off, followed by your shirt. He catches the intention behind your movement, and drops his coat easily.

When you get yourself naked, you lie back on the couch, not having to wait long before his naked body covers yours.

“Do you need me to-” He offers, and you silence him by pressing a finger to his lips.

You shake your head, reaching down, pumping his hard cock a few times before guiding him into your dripping wet core.

Billy gasps in surprise.

“Shocked?” You tease, “I thought you knew everything about me.”

His eyes darken, something terrifying crosses his features. He moves his arms, braces one on each side of your head. Your eyes flit to the snake curled over his shoulder.

“I don’t know everything about you,” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, “But I will.”

.

.

.

A/N: Happy Holidays to you!

[pumpkinbxtch]

Maria's (pumpkin's) 730 follower event

hola, hello, whatever. i'm too nervous. I never thought I would reach 730 followers in such a short time. I've been here for TWO AND A HALF MONTHS???, and this happens. Wow. You don't know how grateful I am to each of you! for your constant support and warm welcome. That's why I decided to do this event (inspired and stolen from @hopelesslyromanticshark mi amor, sorry as well as all the people who have been involved in creating this beautiful way of celebrating.), THIS IS to have a little fun and thank you.

— SOME OF DAYDREAMING

really small blurbs with any character (pjo, hoo)

— SIGNS FROM SPACE

a moodboard + tiny playlist of some of my works. choose wichever you want!

— CLOSENESS TO OUTER SPACE

You can ask me anything, I will answer solemnly!

— SECRET OF THE STARS

(moot only!) I will share my thoughts about you, what I have managed to perceive in you.

EVENT MASTERLIST!

—

STOP! GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM!

— we have some rules:

— the event ends june 20th — one option per ask! — you can request the times you want but you have a limit of 4 per day! — Let me know in your ask it's for the event! — check up on the blog rules! — patience please 🌙

tagging my moots (don't pressure babies);

@apollosfavkiddo @gentlehue @riordanness @canonfeminine @hopelesslyromanticshark @pinkdiorluvr @balletfilmss @maybxlle @ssparksflyy @aezuria @aryxchse @cinemaconrad @sunnitheapollokid @crownofgildedlilies @starrynightmovietheatre

[mariatesstruther]

okay but wait @bumblepony u GENIUS. you gave me an idea:

mariatommy step up au

in which pro-dancer maria miller is in desperate need of a waltz partner for the american dance championships. to her rescue comes tommy miller, the younger and more troublesome and secretly phenomenal swinging-dancing brother of famous ex swing-dancer, joel miller

guess what i did 😋 i made it long

so we start with pro-dancer maria miller as she wins as many dance titles as she possibly can, trying to prove to her mother that quitting law school for dance was worth it. she’s already been taking home a fuck ton of titles as a ballet and lyrical soloist, but lately she’s been interested in smooth forms of ballroom, like the waltz and tango

a good friend of hers, frank, has been her partner for three months, and they’ve been unbeatable so far. literally every competition she they shows up at, other dancers will groan and rolls their eyes like “aw come on bro this is unFAIR” because they already know who first place is going to: maria motherfucking miller. every goddamn time

then, four titles in and two months away from their biggest competition, frank tragically breaks an ankle doing some stupid gardening shit with bill. and it is exactly that: a tragedy. he’s maria miller’s partner, and now he can no longer be that. he might as well be a dead man

frank makes bill tell maria, both because it was his idea to have sex do work in the garden and because he’s too scared to. when he does, she cusses him out so bad that, for once in his life, he has no grumpy smartass response. maria is fucking pissed—because that entire competition, that title, that trophy is supposed to be fucking hers. they already have the perfect choreography, the perfect costumes, the perfect music, the perfect everything. she’s already made space on her awards wall for the crown, the sash, and three-their trophy. this is a batrayal, frank. how could he do this to her????? how could he?????

but maria miller does not dwell on problems: she fixes them. she has replace bill or withdraw from the competition—which she has never done in her entire life. withdrawing, like losing, is not an option. she needs another partner, and she needs one fast

of course homegirl tess would come through—her best friend, retired fellow dancer, and one of the most reputable talent managers in the region. maria calls tess hoping to get in touch with her ex-partner, joel miller, because she wants only the best. he’s known and respected in the dance world as an amazing swing dancer and phenomenal lead in partner-work—much to her chargrin, unfortunately, he’s not dancing anymore. he’s apparently too busy with a new baby, which—great, beautiful, kids are great—does not help her. maria needs someone available, someone good, and someone now

enter tommy miller 🤠 who maria is at first not even willing to consider, because he’s never danced competitively in his entire fucking life (“are you fucking with me, tess? are you trying to fuck with me? i thought we were past the point of fucking with eachother. i though we were friends.” she says, when tess tells her. she gets an eye-roll in response)

to his credit, tess tells her, he’s been dancing alongside his joel all his life. he’s watched him and learned from him and is apparently just as good—he’s even danced with tess, and he impressed her. this impressed maria. when she asks tess why he hasn’t done anything officially to actually prove himself, tess says he’s “not the competitive type,” which is a major turn-off. maria is more than the competitive type—she’s the competition entirely.

still, tess convinces her to give him a chance. they basically meets blind-date style because tess is just like “dude just trust me trust me TRUST ME. meet him at our studio on saturday and freestyle with him. one song. then tell me what you think”

so maria goes, and she waits. she’s dutifully ten minutes early, as she is to every rehearsal. what would be five minutes before their meet time, she hears the studio doors open behind her and lets herself be only a little pleased that he is early. then she turns around to him—and boy, is she very much so pleased

tommy is broad-shouldered and well-dressed and tall, but not too tall, and well-groomed for a man—especially with one with so much hair. my god, just this man have a beautiful head of hair. as admires him, she also appreciates that (aside from his audaciously hot suede fur-lined jacket and cowboy boots, lord help her), he look’s ready to dance: black loose muscle tank, black breathable joggers, and black sneakers held in his left hand. in his right hand, to her suprise, is a single red rose.

is he fucking with me? she immediately thinks. a rose. a fucking rose?

“what’s that for?”

“uh, the rose? it’s—,” he hesitates, clearly thrown off guard. somehow, with only three measly words, maria notices that his voice is nice and low and gravely and— “it’s for you, ma’am. you’re maria, right?” —southern and sexy and distracting. his voice is far too distracting. it will present problems for her.

“right. i’m maria,” she repeats, mostly to remind herself who she fucking is—maria fucking miller. maria miller, who does not get distracted by tall sexy cowboys at dance rehearsals. “you’re tommy?”

“yes, ma’am.” he has to stop. he has to stop with the ma’am thing. it’s another distractor.

no distractions. she’s at a rehearsal, albiet an unofficial trial one. it is still a rehearsal—one for a competition that she will win.

maria straightens her shoulders, gets her head on straight, and steels her voice to say coldly: “well, tommy, i don’t like flowers. i like trophies. you think you can get me one of those?”

at that, tommy smiles as bright as the sun, white and pearly and perfect. distraction number three. she’s fucked. “i reckon i can,” he says, amused and sure.

“then prove it,” she responds, voice still steely. “let’s dance.”

and they do

for @bumblepony for your amazing writing as always and @marceltheshellwithflipflopson for your loveliness and inspiration and @clickergossip wifey and @ameerawrites miss u baby and @liveandletcry23 MISS U CAT and @hypnotisedfireflies because the work youve been doing with IO????? INCREDIBLE????? its been making me want to get back to writing so bad

all my mariatommy truthers love u guys kiss kiss kiss

[zushigirl]

For Day 4 of @kastleexchange Come What May 💀💛

I Take My Coffee Black Chapter 3…a quiet scene starring Karen Page ☕️

The coffee is warm in her hands – a stark contrast to the cold air nipping her fingertips.

Karen inhales the billow of steam rising from her cup and takes a sip.

Dark chocolate. Marshmallow. A sprinkle of cinnamon.

She puts the cup to the side of the tombstone and takes the bouquet of white roses out of her black purse. Studied the roses for a second before placing them in front of the grave.

“Hi Maria…”

[dear-gods-wtf]

Drooped a new chapter for Waterboy 😭😭

[ao3sdaredevil]

"Good boy, Max," the stranger says, and Max's nub of a tail is wriggling like crazy. Frank has never, ever seen his dog react to a stranger like this. Hell, it'd taken Max a good week to warm up to Karen, and she's one of the nicest people Frank's ever met.

"What the fuck." That seems to be the only thing Frank can think of to say tonight. The stranger's grin slides from his face. Frank refuses to feel bad about it. "It's past two in the morning, man. What the hell are you doing? You high?"

"No!" the stranger says quickly, sounding genuinely offended. "'M just -- I'm -- I'm really, really drunk." He slowly grins again, then laughs, stroking Max's fur. "And lost. And I lost my phone. And my keys. Then I found your dog... 'M sorry."

Frank sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. It's too goddamn late for this. At least he didn't find the guy passed out on his lawn, he supposes.

[hb-writes]

The Punisher Masterlist

Reader Fics

Life As We Know It - OC Lenny Falconio (Maria's Sister) x Billy Russo

[peppercheeni]

I want to draw more Bill & Frank, but also The Last of Us characters in general -- shoot me some prompts if you want :')

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 15

Masterlist

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, implied torture, kidnapping of a minor, very intense predator vibes, angst.

Billy could feel the sweat rolling down his back.

Though the midnight air of the forest was cool, the gear wrapped around his body trapped the heat, and didn’t make it easy for Billy to be comfortable, especially with the additional adrenaline running through his system.

He ignored it, years of marine training meant that he could bury his body’s signals of discomfort, he remained focused on the task at hand. 

He was hunting.

Frank’s youngest had been missing for five hours. 

Billy had hit the ground running, setting up monitoring stations at every entry and exit point in the state. It wasn't perfect, but it was all he had for right now.

If this was who Billy and Frank suspected they were, they wouldn't be using any official pathways anyway. 

Billy finds the spot Frank Jr. was last seen and starts there, he follows the scent, the footsteps on the forest floor, a boy happily running through the woods he's grown up in.

He'd been chasing fireflies, Frank had told him, wanted a jar of them to come home with. It had taken around an hour for them to notice something was wrong, searched for another hour before beginning to panic. Frank had found the spot where the boy’s tracks had interacted with two larger adult footprints in the dark of the night, and had immediately hiked out of the forest and to a phone.

Billy had gotten here as fast as he could, starting his search, knowing he only had a few hours left before kidnappers would make it to whichever edge of the forest they were going to and get out.

Billy had to be faster.

He would be. Panthers were arguably better trackers than bears, quieter too. Frank had made a good choice to call him when he did.

Even if it had pulled Billy away from you.

He shakes his head, can't afford to get distracted by you right now.

He adjusts the rifle in his hand, taking a deep breath of the forest air to clear his head. If he focused, he could still smell the scent of you on his skin.

It gave him peace, made his body burn even hotter at the reminder of you, of why his hands smelled the way they did. He didn’t even get a chance to write a proper note, only a hasty one of apology placed on the pillow next to you. He’d left his phone at his place to avoid it being traced here. He knew he would have to do a lot of apologising when he got back.

.

He loses the trail at the river.

Large volumes of water rushing past him and heading into the far off ocean, Billy pauses and thinks. He hears the crunching of dirt under Frank's boot as he approaches.

"I lost the scent here." Frank says.

Billy nods, moving closer to the river, eyes scanning the embankment, searching for scuffs in the rocks, anything to show him where they would have crossed.

At one spot, he finds the dirt has been disturbed.

"He fought back here." Billy points out, "Must have realised that crossing water meant you wouldn't be able to find him."

Frank's breathing is laboured.

They find a shallow spot to cross. The water is frigid, biting, and he knows that he's running out of time to find them.

On the other side, he notes that one boot print has gotten deeper.

"They picked him up… here, probably knocked him unconscious." Billy voice is calm, calculated.

He hears the air leave Frank.

When he finds that the footprints have split off into two groups, he makes a split second decision, pulling his gun off and tossing it in Frank's direction, his gear follows next.

"I'm shifting." Billy says with finality, “Follow those prints,” Billy points to the lighter steps, “They probably take you out of the way for a little, but they have to reunite with these,” he points to the heavier ones, “at some point.”

Frank doesn’t argue.

The predator comes to him easily, ready to protect his family. Billy grunts quietly as he shifts, feels his bones dislocate and realign. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, he’s looking through the eyes of the panther.

The panther can see so much more, a wider field of vision, better darkness adaptability than his human eyes can. He takes off running in the dark forest, doesn’t stop, his paws barely making a sound as he leans away from the controls and allows the panther to guide his movements, letting instinct take over and make split second decisions.

Nearsighted in his panther form, his brain can hyperfocus on the little things, able to observe the smallest indications of the kidnapper’s presence and direction. Half footprints, the pattern of disturbed grass, the size and depth of his gait giving an indication of their size, Billy finds that he learns more about the mysterious people as he hunts them. 

He’s temporarily disoriented when the scent he was following is drowned out by something overpowering. Lavender oil dumped hastily to deter anyone with sensitive noses from following. Billy huffs angrily, circling in the dark of the forest to relocate the scent lost.

It’s not there, and when he looks around, he notes two sets of tracks, one of which has most likely been faked to throw him off. The panther huffs angrily, moving between the tracks, trying to look for any sign that one is fake.

It takes him a moment, before he sees it, a button, pulled from the sleeve of the younger Frank’s shirt dropped and half buried in the dark foliage of the forest, a sign that the young boy was coming back to consciousness, showing Billy the path to him.

He takes off running again, adrenaline coursing through his veins, telling him to move faster, to protect his pack, to bring young Frank home safe to his father.

The hunters most likely wanted a young shifter they could train, brainwash into killing their own, fighting fire with fire, was most likely their reasoning for such a dangerous excursion in the first place. If they couldn’t train him to kill for them, they’d experiment on him, testing weapons on him that they could use to hunt the rest of his kind. It made Billy run faster, the knowledge that a little boy like Frank was in that much danger.

The panther huffs again, trying to keep Billy focused so that he doesn’t think about his own misshapen past. Remembering his own unique traumas would not help here.

When he reaches the cliffside, he realises the plan of escape. The kidnappers intend to escape with a boat, making it harder for Billy to track them. 

He won’t let them get that far ahead.

He stays in the tree line, looking for signs of human life when he finally catches what his eyes have been searching for- movement.

Two men, busy uncovering a small boat, dressed in very detailed, forest camouflage. 

Billy watches them for a long moment, analysing both figures in the dark of the night. The men wear night vision goggles, and hearing aids to raise the sensitivity of their human sight and hearing. The problem with these technologies was that there was an inability to filter out too much stimuli, which made it difficult to focus on one sound. Billy knew that one good flash grenade would take both men out. 

Still, he had yet to find Frank Jr.

They had probably taken great care in hiding him, the most valuable thing to them now. The panther knew, just like Billy did, that the hunters would rather kill the young shifter, than let him slip from their grasp.

So he had to pick the right moment to strike.

Billy moves quietly, paws padding on the forest floor so softly that no trace of his movements can be heard, not the brush of the leaves on his fur, not the scrape of his claws on rocks as he’s forced to climb down from his vantage point.

The only time he freezes, is when an owl hoots somewhere behind him, and one of the hunters turn to look.

The figure doesn’t speak, they know better, know a single word would be heard for miles. They were trained for this, seasoned and experienced.

And yet still, they wouldn't expect him.

He finally senses the young boy when he’s closer, covered under a shroud that’s been designed to look like foliage. Billy can hear his heartbeat, the soft breathing of an unconscious boy. He feels the anger of the predator inside of him sharpen. 

He stalks closer.

He’s hidden right beside them now, the very items used as strategic cover now works against them, allowing Billy to get very close.

These hunters were only anticipating bears, they would never see the panther coming.

.

When Frank finally gets to them, Billy shifts back into human form. He takes the shirt and pants hastily tossed his way, and watches Frank kneel beside the shroud covering his son.

Billy looks over, pausing as he puts on his shirt to assess the boy, same as Frank.

Breathing, unconscious still, a red bruise on his cheek where someone might have slapped him aggressively. It makes Billy angrier, wishing he’d made the hunters suffer longer. He’d torn them apart too fast for his liking.

Frank scoops up his son, trying his best not to wake him, most likely to avoid him witnessing the carnage left behind by the predator, sprays of blood and body parts scattered- it had been surprisingly silent throughout- no screams because Billy had torn out their vocal cords first.

 “Thank you, Bill.” Frank murmurs, his arms full of his son.

Billy only nods, glad to have been able to help keep his family safe.

They only make it a few steps, before Billy hears the sound of branches snapping. 

He only has a second to act, lunging at Frank and knocking both bodies out of the way as someone opens fire.

The sound echoes through the forest, as Billy and Frank take cover behind a rock. It only takes a moment to figure out where the sound is coming from, before Frank turns, placing his son into Billy’s arms.

“I want this one alive.” Is the last thing Frank says, before grunting loudly, his clothes tearing as he shifts.

And then he disappears.

Billy wants to help his friend, but he also understands that Frank Jr’s safety holds much more priority. 

In any case, he knew who would be winning this fight anyway.

.

He’s holding Frank’s son in one hand, and dragging the unconscious hunter by the ankle along the forest floor when Maria finally spots him.

She runs up to him, he can smell the salty flavour of her despair in the forest air.

“He’s alright.” Billy reassures as she makes her way to him, “Just asleep.”

She takes the sleeping boy from his arms, cradling him closely, a little sob slipping from her lips. He drops the hunter’s foot and pulls them both into his arms. 

He breathes in her flowery smell, presses his cheek into her hair.

They were safe.

“Where’s Frank?” She asks after a moment, looking up at Billy.

“He’s behind, making sure the forest is clear.” Billy explains, “You got a place to put this bastard?” He follows up with, inclining his head to the unconscious man beside him.

Maria nods, turning to show him the way.

.

Billy waits outside the little backyard shed for Frank to step out. He’s spent the last few minutes listening to Frank beat the man bloody. Frank doesn’t even ask any questions- just getting all of his residual anger out.

Billy’s not surprised to see the state of Frank’s hands when he steps out, covered in blood with splashes on his shirt.

“Have at it.” Frank says in a very rough voice, the anger too potent inside of him to get any further words out. Billy watches him grab a rag from his back pocket and begin wiping at his hands. He knows the darkness raging inside of the man, can almost taste it in the air. More than anything, Frank needs his family now to get back into a more stable headspace.

Billy doesn’t speak, only nodding, before opening the wooden shed door to do a little bit of interrogation.

The smell of blood and sweat is heavy in the air. The predator perks up at the atmosphere, scratching at the edges of Billy’s mind to give this pathetic man exactly what he deserves.

“Can you talk?” Billy says calmly, tilting his head at the man, watching the blood drip from his mouth.

The man doesn’t respond, simply eyeing Billy warily from his spot tied to the wooden chair.

“Would you like some water?” Billy follows up, grabbing a clean cup from one of the little shelves and filling it with water from the tap. He moves to stand in front of the man, his boots thumping on the wooden floor, tilting the cup toward him with eyebrows raised.

The man only gives him a bloody smile, his face illuminated by the lone incandescent bulb hanging above them.

“What is this?” the man rasps, “Bad cop- good cop? You think you’re gonna get anything out of me?”

Billy grins, laughing along with the man for a moment, before angling the cup upwards and dumping the cup of water on his head.

The man doesn’t flinch, though he knows that the water stings at the open cuts and scratches on his face.

He tosses the cup aside, walking to the far wall of the shed and examining the tools on the table carefully.

“I’m just making sure you can talk because I want some answers.” Billy responds, tracing his fingers along the hunting knife on the tabletop- deciding against it because it was too sharp.

He pauses on the wireless drill for a second, before deciding that cleaning that up would be too much of a pain.

“I’m not saying shit. So you might as well kill me.” The man responds.

It makes Billy laugh again, fingers pausing on the pliers. He tilts his head, deep in thought before reaching for them.

“I am going to kill you,” Billy clarifies, walking back around to him, “How quickly is up to you.” 

He raises the pair of pliers in his hands, clicking it open and closed twice for emphasis.

“Now why don’t we start with who exactly sent you?”

“Fuck you.” The man spits.

Billy grins.

.

Like Frank, Billy is wound up and agitated when he finally steps out of the shed a few hours later. Having surrendered to the whims of the predator for too long, it’s not easy regaining control.

Frank’s waiting for him outside, eyeing him steadily.

Billy nods at Frank, silently telling him that even though he’s not at his best, he’ll get there.

“Hungry?” Frank asks, and the absurdity of the question is not lost on either of them. Truth is, they’ve both been desensitised to violence, the wars they’ve been through, the things they’ve seen makes this small event easier to handle.

“Starving.” Billy answers, watching Frank’s mouth pull up in amusement.

Frank might not be blood related to Billy, but they were brothers, in every way that mattered.

.

When Billy finally gets back to New York, it's almost 9am. He only has enough time to shower and change and get to work, a small pile of concerns having been built up in the three days he's been gone.

He can't wait to see you, to apologise for his absence, to make amends for such a hastily scribbled note left behind on the pillow beside your head and a soft kiss to your cheek. His heart is beating so fast in his chest that it might as well as be a vibration at this point. 

Except he doesn't get a chance to see much of you at all. He only catches a solitary peek of you when you're heading to the elevators during your lunch break while he's standing at Katerina's desk deep in conversation.

"You should go get something to eat." Kat says, interrupting his long stare at the elevators.

"What?" He asks, not even paying attention.

"It's lunch time, and I think the cafeteria might have something you like."

He blinks, turns to look at her. She's giving him an expression of complete understanding.

He takes a slow breath.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" He asks softly.

She nods.

"I don't want you to starve."

Why he was trusting Katerina, was a question beyond his scope of thinking at the moment. Maybe he wasn't trusting her at all, maybe she had just given him the nudge he was looking for.

He heads toward the elevators, and presses the down button. 

He waits.

He torments himself. Why was he doing this? He didn't need to- he could just send you a message to ask to talk to you like a normal person, instead of whatever he would subject himself to in the cafeteria. 

He turns away, officially changing his mind.

The elevator doors pull open.

"Hello, Mister Russo." You say behind him.

His heart stops.

He turns.

He's held in place by how stunning you look, the way your hair falls and the gloss swiped onto your soft lips.

Lips that he kissed.

His stomach knots as he says your name in greeting.

If you have any indication of how frozen he is, you don't show it, barely meeting his eyes before looking away.

"Enjoy your lunch." Is all you say before you turn and walk away, never even sparing him a proper glance. 

When he replays the little interaction in his head, it's only then that he realises that you addressed him by his last name.

He was no longer Billy, and had once again, become only your boss.

He swallows, a sour feeling in his stomach, acid swelling inside of him until it devours everything. 

He doesn’t know what to do, so he turns, and walks back to his office.

“I’m not all that hungry.” He says to Katerina when he notices her studying him, doesn’t like how small he feels in that moment, wants to hide, and not be seen again, maybe take Frank up on his offer to live with him in the woods.

He lets his office door close behind him, before he’s taking a deep breath in an attempt to soothe his emotions.

The panther is hurt too, your indifference is like a sharp knife to his sternum, where he’d been craving heat, he only gets frostbite.

He sits in his chair, moves on autopilot, and doesn't focus on anything for the better part of an hour. He tries to reason with himself, tries to figure out how to fix this gaping wound that has opened up.

Worse yet, he’s afraid to go talk to you. Afraid of your rejection of him, that you’ve looked at him, and decided that you do not want him.

He hides instead.

.

.

.

[sl-newsie]

Cool Your Jets- Ch. 6: Under Arrest (Riff x newcomer)

At the police station I find the odda Jets have been brought in for questioning. Everyone except Riff. The cop has me sit down on a bench next to some odda goils. On of ‘em (I think it’s Anybodys) and the odda Jets get into an argument, but I’s too dazed to listen. All I can think about is how noivous I am ‘bout being questioned, how scared I am for Riff, and how anxious I am for Tony and Maria. God, my whole world’s turned upside down in one day!

Soon Anybodys escapes the officers and leads a chase outta the room, leaving only me, the lady next to me, and the Jet boys. Baby John must also share my uneasy nerves ‘cause he keeps pacing back and forth.

“He ain’t ever been arrested before?” I hear the lady ask.

“He ain’t ever been noth’n before.”

She looks at me. “What about her?”

“Hey Marylin, ever been arrested?” Mouthpiece asks from the bench across from me.

My eyes widen. “Arrest? As in… locked up?”

“Technically you wait for a trial but yeah, locked up.”

“N-No I haven’t. But- But I can’t stay here! I thought I was just being questioned! I don’t wanna be arrested-!”

“Too late!” Action calls from across the room.

Panicking, I run over and try to bust open the locked door.

“No no no! Let me out! I don’t belong here!” I cry against the window.

“Better believe it, toots. You’s here same as the rest of us,” Diesel remarks.

“B- But I’m good… I’m a good person! I’m… I’m not in a gang!”

“Still. You associate with us, you become one of us.”

All because I wanted to make friends!?

I punch the glass and cut my wrist, causing Mouthpiece to gasp.

“Marilyn! Ya shouldn't hurt yourself! What would Riff say?” He comes over and starts wrapping my hand, only I yank it away.

“I don’t give a damn about what Riff thinks! I don’t give a damn ‘bout what any-a you’s think! All I wanted was to have a halfway-decent fresh start, but I guess I don’t even deserve that- let alone to have my parents back!” I slope against the door.

“Let me go

Far away

Somewhere they won't ever find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today

And the city's finally sleepin'

And the moon looks old and gray

I get on a train that's bound for Santa Fe…

And I'm gone,

And I'm done!

No more running. No more lying.

No more fat old man denying me my pay.

Just a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day!

Dreams come true. Yeah they do. In Santa Fe.”

Mouthpiece puts a hand on my shoulder. “Aw, c’mon Marilyn. You’re get’n yourself all worked up. Be’n a Jet ain’t so bad-”

I push away and shake my head. “I never wanted to be a Jet! I wanted friends, friends who could be there for me when I needed them and not bring more trouble into my life!”

“But ya gotta admit… the Jets have always had your back.”

“I’ve known you for a day, and I’ve already been arrested! Now I just godda get oudda here before I’m imprisoned!

Where does it say you gotta live and die here?

Where does it say a goil can't catch a break?

Why should you only take what you're given?

Why should you spend your whole life living trapped where there ain't no future,

Even at 17!?

Breaking your back for someone else's sake!

If the life don't seem to suit you, how about a change of scene?

Far from the lousy headlines, and the deadlines in between.

Santa Fe, my old friend,

I can't spend my whole life dreaming.

Though I know that's all I seem inclined to do.

I ain't getting any younger,

And I wanna start brand new!

I need space. And fresh air!

Let 'em laugh in my face. I don't care!

Save my place, I'll be there.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes, and give a desperate sigh.

“Just be real is all I'm asking,

Not some painting in my head.

Cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today.

I got nothing if I ain't got Santa Fe!”

The guys are all stare’n at me, but I don’t care. All I want is my life back.

“C’mon, cheer up! You’re a mess, we’re a mess, we’re all in one big mess!” Mouthpiece trots up with Krupke’s hat on. “Look at you’s, you feckless frigg’n disappointments. Now gimme one good reason I shouldn’t throw the book atchya!”

He looks at me with a serious frown, and I can’t help but give a small smile. Now the boys get the hint.

Diesel looks around, then sings:

“Dear… kindly Sergeant Krupke,

You gotta understand.

It's just our bringin' upke

That gets us outta hand.”

“Our mothers all are junkies.” Big Deal adds.

“Our fathers all are drunks!” A-Rab pretends to drink from a bottle.

“Golly Moses, naturally we're punks.” Diesel shrugs at Mouthpiece. Then he pulls me up and leads me to stand with the odda Jets.

“Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset:

We never had the love that every child oughta get.

We ain't no delinquents,

We're misunderstood.

Deep down inside us… there is good.

There is good!”

A-Rab joins in:

“There is good, there is good.

There is untapped good.

Like inside, the worst of us is good!”

Mouthpiece snickers. “Aw, that's a touchin' good story!”

Diesel spreads his arms. “Lemme tell it to the woild!”

Mouthpiece shoves him towards Diesel. “Just tell it to the judge!”

Diesel gets pushed in front of Balkan, who stands on top-a the desk pretend’n to be a judge.

“Dear kindly Judge, your honor

My parents treat me rough.

With all their marijuana

They won't give me a puff.

They didn't wanna have me,

But somehow I was had!

Leapin' lizards!

That's why I'm so bad!”

Balkan bangs a hammer and looks over at Mouthpiece.

“Right!

Officer Krupke, you're really a square

This boy don't need a judge, he needs an analyst's care

It's just his neurosis that oughta be curbed

He's psychologically disturbed.”

Diesel shouts: “I'm disturbed!”

The odda Jets join in:

“We're disturbed, we're disturbed,

We're the most disturbed!

Like we're psychologically disturbed!”

They start whooping and hollering, with Mouthpiece pull’n me all around the room. When Balkan bangs the hammer again we all look up.

“Hear ye hear ye! In the opinion of this court, the boy’s depraved on account of he ain’t had a normal home.”

Diesel looks around. “Hey, I’m depraved on account of I’m deprived!”

“So take this nut to a headshrinker.”

Mouthpiece shrugs. “Ooh, why not?”

“Wait no no-!” Diesel gets shoved up against a lean’n table, a makeshift therapist chair, while A-Rab stands over him.

“My father is a bastard,

My ma's an S.O.B,

My grandpa's always plastered,

My grandma pushes tea.

My sister wears a mustache,

My brother wears a dress,

Goodness gracious!

That's why I'm a mess!” His eyes widen.

A-Rab points a finger at him and looks at Mouthpiece.

“Yes!

Officer Krupke, you're really a slob.

This boy don't need a doctor, just a good honest job.

Society's played him a terrible trick,

And sociologically he's sick.

Diesel shouts again: “I am sick!”

Now everyone sings, and I decide to join in with a smile on my face.

“We are sick, we are sick!

We are sick, sick, sick!

Like we're sociologically sick!”

A-Rab paces back and forth in front-a Diesel.

“In my professional opinion, what we got here is a run-of-the-mill juvenile delinquent!” He gives Diesel a slap. “And juvenile delinquency-!” Slap!  “-is a social disease!”

Balkan gives a disgusted grunt as we crowd around. “Ew, Diesel, you got a social disease?

A-Rab nods. “Bring him to a social worker.”

As Diesel walks off, Mouthpiece calls: “Wait, can I catch it by touchin' him?”

Diesel walks up to Big Deal, but then Baby John pushes up front.

“Dear—”

“Kindly social worker,

They say go earn a buck.

Like be a soda jerker,

Which means like be a schmuck!

It's not I'm antisocial,

I'm only anti-work!

Gloryosky!”

We all sing: “That's why I'm a jerk!”

Big Deal scoffs, pretend’n to be a lady social worker.

“Officer Krupke, you've done it again!

This boy don't need a job, he needs a year in the pen!

It ain't just a question of misunderstood,

Deep down inside him, he's no good!”

Baby John shrugs. “I'm no good!”

We all chant:

“We're no good, we're no good

We're no earthly good

Like the best of us is no damn good!”

By now we’s all scattering papers, kick’n over chairs, and push’n Diesel left and right.

Mouthpiece smirks. “The trouble is he's crazy!”

“The trouble is he drinks.”

“The trouble is he's lazy!”

“The trouble is he stinks.”

“The trouble is he's growing!”

“The trouble is he's grown.”

We all sing:

Krupke, we got troubles of our own!

Gee, Officer Krupke

We're down on our knees

Diesel shrugs. “'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!

“Gee, Officer Krupke

What are we to do?

Gee, Officer Krupke-”

Just then the door opens, revealing Krupke himself.

“Krup you!”

The officer just stands there look’n around at the mess we’ve made as the Jets start to trickle outta the office. I follow Mouthpiece, who quickly turns back to hand Krupke his hat.

“This is for you.” He then grabs my arm and leads me out. “So, ya feel bedda now?”

I try to hide my smile and give a surrendering nod. “Yeah.”

Mouth grins. “Good, ‘cause I don’t want Riff see’n you’s so upset! Now c’mon, he’s wait’n for us.”

I give him a pointed look. “I don’t got anything to say to Riff. He knows where I stand, and I can’t change his mind.”

Mouthpiece considers this. “True, but have ya thought ‘bout what peace of mind you could give him before the rumble? Even just a quick ‘good luck’ would help him out a lot. I know it. He really does care for ya, Marilyn.”

I really wanna believe him, but I shake my head. “If he cares, he wouldn’t be do’n this stupid rumble. He’s fighting one-a my friends’ boyfriends, and I feel like i’m the one caught in the middle-a this mess. One way or anodda, somebody’s going down and i’m gonna get dragged down with ‘em. If Riff wins, Anita won’t ever speak to me again. If Bernardo wins, I-” I play with my hands and avoid Mouthpiece’s heavy gaze.

“You what, girly? You care for him too, dontcha?”

I bite my lip. “Yes! I do care! If Bernardo wins and Riff dies I- I don’t know how I would take it! He’s supposed to be a wicked, racist bastard, but something inside him is… scared. Call me a lunatic, but I’ve grown to luv a complete stranger in one day! How does that even happen, Mouth?!” I turn away to hide my shuttered crying.

Mouthpiece don’t say anything and instead wraps his arms around me in a soft hug.

“You’s been through a lot in the past month, so it’s all ok to be feeling all this. You just gotta trust that things’ll get bedda, Marilyn.”

I chuckle dryly.

“That's life.

That's what people say.

You're riding high in April,

Shot down in May.

But I know I'm gonna change that tune,

When I'm back on top, back on top in June!”

I start marching towards my apartment, still followed by Mouthpiece.

“I said, that's life.

And as funny as it may seem,

Some people get their kicks

Stompin' on a dream.

But I don't let it, let it get me down

'Cause this fine old world it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate

A poet, a pawn and a king

I've been up and down and over and out

And I know one thing

Each time I find myself flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life! I tell ya, I can't deny it!

I thought of quitting, baby

But my heart just ain't gonna buy it!

And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,

I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly!”

When we reach my apartment building, all the Puerto Ricans are giving Mouthpiece odd looks, But when they see he’s with me then they leave us alone.

Before we start up the stairs, Anita rushes down.

“Marilyn! There you are!” She seethes. “You tell those- those- those fiends that they are not welcomed here!”

I frown. “Who? What happened?”

Anita scowls and points up at my apartment window. “Your boyfriend and his gang are in your apartment, so please kindly tell them to vamos!”

With that she storms off towards the market, leaving Mouthpiece and I exchanging panicked looks.

“Riff’s holding a Jet meeting in my apartment, in a Puerto Rican neighborhood?!”

This can’t be good.

[pumpkinbxtch]

SOME OF DAY DREAMING ask :3

sooo I saw ur event and KNEW I had to send a lil sum sum in!! I luv ur writing style babes (gender neutral nickname🎀) it’s soo descriptive and it paints a picture!

I was hoping for a small blurb or frank x fem!hades! reader? :3 no one writes for him he’s sooo underated

no rush to write ofc!! have a great day/night :3 <3

Hi! I'm very happy to see you here! I am so moved by what you think about my writing. It is something very special for me, thank you. 🥹

And of course, Frank is one of my favorites, it's just that sometimes I can't think of a story that can do him justice, so I also appreciate you asking for him. So, of course.

✧⁠*⁠。SOME OF DAYDREAMING w' frank zhang x daughter of hades!reader

you carefully ran your fingers over the wooden cylinder, tracing the marks etched into it and a smile appeared on your face as you went over the initials: F. Z.

You wondered if he would like that quiver you had bought him at a street market. The man told you that he made it himself and each one had patterns that had a certain meaning so you chose the one that meant "Strength" after all, was a virtue that your boyfriend possessed in more ways than one.

You were careful to wrap it in a large purple silk cloth and put it on your bed, you were waiting impatiently for him to knock on the door of your cabin and surprise him but when the moment arrived he entered with his face shocked and body tense.

"Frank?" You asked and he tried to soften his face but it only made it worse, he seemed really upset about something.

"My quiver," he said angrily, "a son of... Ares broke it." You checked in your mind if any of your powers could have caused that. Any ghost wanting to show off for you? the daughter of the lord of the Underworld. Or it was a silly coincidence that had nothing to do with it? nibbling on your lower lip as as you tried to think of something when Frank pointed to your bed.

"That?" Now you didn't know if it was right to give it to him but you took a step to the side to make him understand that it was the surprise you were talking about all the week. Frank ran his hands over and opened his eyes as he noticed the luxury of the fabric.

“baby, you better not have spent a fortune” you snorted a laugh.

"Can you promise something before you open it?"

"Sure," he said.

"Don't hate me" Frank frowned and undid the knots slowly, although halfway the little he had touched gave him the exact idea of ​​what had been wrapped there. He remained stunned for seconds as he gave you a quick glance over his shoulder, your cheeks blushing.

"no way," he pronounced once he had the new quiver in his hands, holding it up like a precious object.

You got impatient and started babbling, ending up apologizing. "I'm sorry—I didn't— know, I had nothing to do with what happened to the old one, sorry—" Now he understood the predicament you seemed to be in so he hugged you, wrapping his body around yours and trying to calm you down.

"forget that, this is better" he said worried about your plight but he never lied.

"Are you serious?" Your eyes shone with hope and he gave you a kiss on the nose.

"Sure, thank you babe."

[wallissa]

Noticed an overlap in my Frankenbilly & Butchlander playlists. Everybody’s darling with ego issues desperate for some attention from a widower with a vendetta. A guy named Billy is there.

[bumblepony]

🍄!

🍄 ⇢ share a headcanon for one of your favorite ships or pairings

Oh so I'm going to share three because I can, I make the rules.

Bill/Frank: I believe that Bill secretly loves being Frank's model for his paintings. I think it makes him feel extremely good about himself, and yeah, he'll grumble and complain, but then he's all ready to strip down to nothing and pose like one of Frank's French girls. I also think that if Joel had gone up into the attic of Bill and Frank's house before he left with Ellie, he would have gotten an eye full because that is where they hung all of the NSFW paintings of Bill.

Joel/Tess: I think that if Tess had made it to Jackson with Joel and Ellie to live in that little (not really little like it's so big in the show, but we all say little in fic, so I'm going with it) blue house, she would have filled that place with books. Like all kinds of books. Every surface and shelf would have books on it; living room, check; bedroom, check; kitchen, check; front hall, check; bathrooms, check (even Ellie's); both porches, check. Woman loves books, and finally, being in a place where she can find and collect them, that's what she would do.

Joel always brings back a new one for her after every patrol; she doesn't care what it's about, and she's not picky. Eventually, when Ellie moves into her own place with Dina, Joel makes up her room into a library, and Tess spends most of her time sitting in the window seat reading.

Tommy/Maria: Maria loves cowboys. She has had a thing for them since she was old enough to start thinking about boys. As a teenager, she used to have posters of cowboys hanging up in her room; when she read YA romances, they were about cowboys. When she got older, she stopped showing it so openly because of some of the teasing she got about it when going to college.

So when this gorgeous, handsome Texas heartthrob, with his long black curly locks, thick southern drawl, big belt buckles, and cowboy boots, came moseying up to Jackson's gate, she was already halfway head over heels for him. The first time, he put on a Stetson got up on a horse, and started roping one of the calves she was fully done for.

[samasmith23]

The Ouroboros Cycle of the Punisher, as conveyed by Jason Aaron & Maria Castle

I love how the 10th issue of Jason Aaron’s Punisher maxiseries highlights how even though in the previous issue Frank Castle killed Ares, the literal Greek God of War, said-death does NOT bring Frank’s personal war to an end like this series previously heavily implied it would. Instead Ares’ demise only serves to further escalate Frank’s systematic mass-slaughter of everyone that he deems “deserving of punishment” on a global scale. Aaron expertly portrays the addictive nature of Frank’s absolutist beliefs through not only the killings themselves, but also through his resurrected wife Maria’s increasing frustration with her husband’s obvious inability to actually commit to his empty promises that, “After today, it’ll all be done. My work… after today.”

In large measure, Aaron highlights the inevitable Ouroboros cycle of Frank’s war. Just like the mythological snake that eats its own tail, the fascistic “might-makes-right” ideology of individuals like Frank Castle is inherently self-destructive. In the process of killing everyone that Frank personally perceives as “evil” in order to satisfy their own rage & bloodlust, he ultimately ends up further damaging the already-fragile relationship he has with his wife Maria. Essentially for the Punisher, the war can never truly end because in his own twisted perspective, “There are [always] others,” which in turn pushes Maria farther away from him.

There will always be other names in the eyes of the Punisher. A list of names that will only continue to increase as Frank views all of humanity, “As things of meat, indistinguishable from one another… except when it comes to man’s most important features. His sins. The ones they’ve already committed. And even the blessed ones yet to be.”

And as Rogue from X-Men: Age of Apocalypse once eloquently stated in refutation to the death-cult mentality that ultimately defines fascism:

“How many lives have to be lost… how much blood has to flow, until y’all are satisfied?!”

As much as Maria desperately wants her husband to, “Come home,” she’s gradually beginning to realize just how truly far gone and incapable of returning home Frank Castle is. While there was a small part of Frank that did want to move past both his childhood vigilante murders and service as a marine in order to be with his wife and children, Maria herself questions in the previous issue that, “If the man [she] married… was a man [she] knew at all. If maybe [she] was the mistress. And it was the war he was wedded to. It’d always been the war.”

And how appropriately fitting that Maria’s narration occurs in conjunction to the Punisher’s murder of Ares, the very act which further feeds into the Ouroboros cycle of Frank’s war instead of ending it like he repeatedly falsely promises to his wife.

Furthermore, Aaron illustrates that even when Frank attempts to finally uphold his promises to “come home” to Maria when he refuses to kill a child that was indoctrinated into a hate group, it is already far to late since not only are several of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes currently planning to bring the Punisher to justice once and for all, but Maria herself begins to learn the horrible truth of just how monstrous her husband actually is (Maria still doesn’t know about all the murders Frank committed as the Punisher following his wife and children’s deaths…).

Overall, I’m really enjoying Aaron’s deconstruction of the Punisher and cannot wait to see Frank Castle be held accountable for his crimes in the final two issues of the 12-issue maxiseries!

From Punisher (2022) #10 by Jason Aaron, Jesús Saiz & Paul Acazeta.