#netflix billy russo

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

one - deja vu

tags: n/a two // masterlist // MAD AT GOD (DD CANON)

welcome back to the MAG universe! this time around we are rolling through the Punisher series. i’m so excited to develop her friendship with Frank and see what happens between her and Billy!

Pairing: Billy x Reader (casual), Frank x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 5, 728

Summary: Being back in the Kitchen almost immediately pulls her back into a fight. But without Matt, what has she become?

You moved over quickly, using Luke as footing to jump from after he knocked her into a short spin so she faced away from you. You moved in a fluid motion to connect the wires between your wrists as you hooked one leg over her shoulders and jammed the other against her spine. You leaned forward enough to get the wire across her throat before you dropped to land on your feet.

She was quick to flip her sai in her grip and slam it through your thigh. Your leg buckled and she used the chance to free herself, spinning to slam her foot against the side of your head. You fell to your back with a wet thump and you pushed to your elbows, craning your neck to see her weapon skewering your thigh. The red stained tip poked through and any movement sent a sharp pain through your body, eminating deep within your bone. She dared to move closer and you kicked the opposing foot against her chest.

Once that foot landed back on the ground, the pain on the other side made you cry out. You managed to drag yourself to your feet and stood unsteadily, hopping on your good leg to try and maintain balance. You reached awkwardly behind yourself for your staffs, having to connect them quickly and use them as a cane for the moment.

“You’ll die down here with us.” Elektra’s voice taunted you, though she was no where to be seen. “As you should.”

You hobbled in a small circle while you tried to find where the voice was coming from. But there was no one, not even the ghost of footsteps or shuffles to give her away. The rest of your group was gone, as if they never came down with you. Not even the elevator.

Hadn’t they just been there?

The tunnels around you stretched as far as you could see, dripping and collecting small puddles. Your labored breathing filled the silence between drips and you felt something eerily out of place about the whole thing.

“Come on then.” You challenged weakly. A deep breathe before you screamed into the wet darkness. “Come out and kill me!”

“Y/N.” He said calmly and you spun so fast you nearly slipped in the water. But when you glanced down to find your footing, you were in a puddle of blood. All of the water had turned to blood. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head, assuming it was your own mania creeping in, but when you opened them the sight hadn’t changed.

“This is what you wanted.” He used the same eerily calm tone, even as the ground shook beneath your feet.

“You should’ve left.” You said angrily as the drips began to land on your forehead. “You shouldn’t be here, Matt.”

“Then why didn’t you keep him safe?” Elektra appeared at his side, walking around him like a predator taunting her prey. Her fingers trailed along the back of his shoulders.

But even in the dim light, neither of them looked like themselves. They were soaking wet and it looked it was water on their bodies, but it reflected red once it hit the ground. Their skins were tinted blue, cyanotic to match their puffy lips and swollen bodies. Their eyes were hollow, sunken in and hardly even there. Everytime their mouths open, blood spilled. They looked like corpses that had been left at the bottom of the river for months to decay in silence.

“I tried.” You answered but the sound barely registered.

Your eye suddenly stung and when you reached to wipe it, your hand came back with fresh red blood. The scar above your eye, the deep gash your mask left from your fight with Fisk, was now fresh and seeping into your eye. The scar on your cheekbone stained the lower half of your face. Your chest snapped and the cartilage fell loose and the old cracks in your ribs fell open. One by one, old injuries became fresh again and each one felt like a hit to your stamina, to your strength, until you fell back to your knees.

Elektra appeared in front of you now, reaching with a sadistic smile for her sai that still dripped with your blood. You tried to back away but landed against Matt, who moved quickly to pin you to the ground. You struggled against him, but he leaned more of his weight against you and left you flailing and kicking.

“Matt? Matt, what are you doing?” You said in a panic but your own blood filled your mouth.

Elektra twisted the weapon in your leg and you screamed out, a gurggled sound that nearly choked you. You kicked your other foot at her but it moved through her, as if she was never really there.

“You’ll die. Painfully.” She threatened before a second sai appeared in her hands.

She climbed over your body, knees on either side of your ribs as she lined her weapon with the center of your chest. By then you were crying, hair sticking to your face and thrashing your body under her weight. But she didn’t move. Matt didn’t move. Instead, they offered each other wicked smiles before both looking down at you.

“You could’ve saved me, Y/N/N… Why didn’t you?” Matt asked.

You opened your mouth to answer but before your voice could find you, Elektra’s weapon began to press into your chest.

Breaking the skin earned a whine.

Her jamming the heel of her hand against it to break through your sternum drew a groan.

Her slow, intentional pressure against your heart earned a plead.

“I can fix this.” You tried, barely a whisper above the shattering thuds of collapsing rock.

“If you could’ve…” She said lowly, leaning forward to meet your panicked eyes, dripping blood from her lips. “You would’ve already.”

Your eyes went wide at the wet sound of the sai piercing your heart.

———————————————————————————————————————

You shot up in your bed and a hand instantly moved to your cheek. The skin was clear of blood but covered in a layer of sweat. You felt above your brow and found the same. With a small noise of stress, you threw your comforter back and shuffled to the bathroom. A hand was rubbing the center of your chest, haunted by the tip of Elektra’s weapon.

You flipped the light, squinting through it for a minute until your eyes adjusted. You planted both hands against the countertop and leaned in to see the faint lines of scars around your eye. The subtle discolorations that followed the shape of your mask, permanent memories of your time as a vigilante, of that hole deep inside you that you couldn’t quite fill. Quantico had done very little towards that gaping feeling, that hole somewhere too deep for you reach that felt like it would swallow you everyday.

You thought that FBI training, getting away from the Kitchen, would maybe be good for you. It’d be time to breathe, maybe even grieve. But those words didn’t seem to mean anything to you anymore. It just felt like they were adding to that depth, sucking out any remnants of progress you had made.

Maybe coming home wasn’t going to be any better.

You blew out a sigh and splashed your face with cold water, a contrast to the heat that seemed to live in your blood now. You felt warm, everywhere you went. No matter the temperature outside, you were boiling inside. But if someone were to touch your skin, they’d never know.

That was who you were now. Not Y/N. Not even Exodus. You were someone else. Someone with Y/N’s memories and tendencies, with Exodus’ mania and skills, but other things were left unaccounted for. Who’s morals did you maintain? Who’s relationships were important?

Who’s heart beat in your chest? Who’s blood was in your veins?

But if you thought about it too long, Matt’s voice would creep into your thoughts. Random things he had told you throughout the time you knew him. Empty promises he made to Exodus. Honest sentiment he gave to Y/N. The last words you heard him say.

You shoved those thoughts to a deep corner of your mind as you headed back to the living room. The chest in the closet seemed to call out to you. The chest full of boxing memorabilia pertaining to Matt’s father, some of his own collection and some you were able to add for him, one of his bibles, and the false bottom that allowed him to hide his suit.

The suit that would never be there again.

You sighed and shook your head before heading to your bedroom to find clothes for the day. You might as well get ready since you knew your mind wasn’t going to let you sleep again anytime soon.

Wasting as much time as you could, you got ready and headed out into the city. You had been back from Quantico for about a week and you were trying to settle back into the Kitchen, but the nightmare of Midland haunted you every night. It was a little different everytime, sometimes the words they spoke to you changed and once it was Matt that killed you with your own blade, but it always the same premise. The three of you, everything coated in blood, and you died.

It was either your conscious gnawing at you and refusing to let you escape, even in sleep, or it was the universe telling you that death would find you. Either way, it never left your mind.

As you were out, you saw Matt in every face. Everywhere you went, you saw him. You almost called his name a few times until you got a better look and remembered he was dead. It felt like you were losing yourself in the grief, in the hopes that it was all a bad dream. Maybe you were still dreaming?

But then someone bumped your shoulder walking by and you knew you weren’t. Weeks had passed and you still couldn’t fully stomach the fact that he was gone. In your mind, you just wanted him there and he was everywhere but nowhere all at once.

You were wandering your usual streets, fighting through the relentless deja vu, stopping at one of the few lunch spots you missed, and ended up at the only building you thought could help. It was one of the few places you didn’t avoid prior to your time away, and now, maybe it was the only chance to cool the blaze under your skin. To fill the hole.

You walked in with a shaky breath and found Father Lantom outside the confessional, talking to one of the nuns with hushed urgency. But as you approached, he sent the nun away and turned to you with a small but welcoming smile. He gestured to the small, private conversation box and you simply nodded. He stepped inside first and you followed suit into your side about a minute later.

“Good to have you back.” Father Lantom said after a short silence. “How was your training?”

“Good, yeah, it was good.” You answered simply. “Dex said everything went really well so now it’s just waiting for approval or something, I don’t really remember…”

“It was quick.”

“Yeah, it was a specialty.. Accelerated… Accelerated program.” Your eyes fell and you noticed you were wringing your fingers. Since when did you do that? “Look, Father, I don’t know if there’s something I’m supposed to say to start this but…”

“Whatever you need to say, Y/N.” He offered genuinely. “Whenever you’re ready to say it.”

“I keep having this nightmare, Elektra and Matt and me. Under Midland and we all die together… Usually El does it but Matt’s done it too, killed me. And I thought being away would make it easier. But it feels worse… I can’t sleep. I hardly eat. I just feel empty.”

“Have you ever felt anything like this before?”

“When I was younger, when I realized what I was going to have to do in the Red Room. I didn’t feel like a person…”

“Hmm..”

“But then I got out and out of nowhere I meet Matt and suddenly… It was like my heart was beating in my chest for the first time.” You couldn’t fight the sad smile that stretched your lips. “Now, it’s like anytime I think about him, my heart can’t beat. It’s just there, weighing down my chest like a rock.”

“When Matt would first tell me about his night activities, he was so twisted up about some of the things he found.” He spoke carefully, treading a fine line between breaking the seal of confession and finding the details that he hoped would offer you comfort. “Some of the things he had seen, what some people in this town were capable of…”

“People like me?”

“No. He never spoke unkindly about you, even before he knew.”

That seemed to fill the hole a little but the blaze remained.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the type…” You sniffled. “Were you able to help him?”

“What I offered wasn’t the help he needed. I could offer bible verses and quotes to him every day, but he knew them all. He knew the stories and the psalms as easy as he knew his way here.”

“So what’d you say?”

“I told him to listen to his heart, because his had always been good. Angry and hurt, yes, but also good.”

“I’ve never felt this alone.” You spoke, a distance in your voice as you stared at the wood door in front of you. “I’ve been left before, by others and by my own choice. I’ve sabotaged my life to a point where I had to be alone and I’ve sacrificed my lifestyle to protect people around… I don’t want to feel this again.”

“Feeling these kinds of things is what makes us human.”

“Yeah..” You nodded, finding the familiar mental ledge that could take it all away. That could turn it all off so it didn’t matter, that would let Y/N rest. All you had to do… Was give her… A little push. “Maybe that humanity is the issue.”

“Guilt is a good thing.. It’s a soul’s call to action, the innate feeling that something is wrong. The only way to rid yourself of it is to correct your mistakes.”

“Correct my mistakes…” You repeated slowly. “I can’t correct this one… Not the way I’d need to. But I know how to get rid of these feelings.”

“Y/N?” He asked quickly and the concern was palpable in his voice.

“Thanks, Father… It’s been nice catching up.”

And with that, you left the church. You took a deep breathe when you stepped out, the crisp New York air hitting you as soon as you stepped out. There was something freeing in that breath. The heat still blazed with every beat of your stoned heart, leaving a trail of warmth through your veins. The hole still lived in your soul but now you fed it, all the sorrow and despair and loneliness was shoved into the hole. It didn’t fill it by any means, but it satisfied it enough that it wouldn’t swallow you whole. It allowed you to live, and for now that was enough.

The rest of your day was relatively uneventful. You went home for a while and did some reorganzing. You cleaned up some of Matt’s leftover belongings that you were unable to touch before. You even started a pile of things that you figured you should donate. Someone else in the Kitchen could probably use some of those suits.

You took down some photos and put them in the closet with his chest. You even took down that painting from the art gallery you bought. It was the red one Vanessa had showed you. You bought it because you had liked it. It made you think of the Man in the Mask and how turbulent your relationship was but now that he was gone, it was just another token of a dead life. So you shoved it away as well.

You cleaned some of the things you had been neglecting and began to feel like you were actually getting some sort of normalcy back. It wasn’t the normalcy that Matt would’ve wanted for you. You could recognize that, but you never expected to have that anyway. You never had the normalcy he wanted for you when he wasn’t around, so you felt no requirement to find it now that he was gone. And maybe you owed it to his memory to live a real life, live a life of peace, but that was never part of you.

It was later that night when you realized what day it was.

Curtis’ support group for veterans.

You were always welcomed there, ever since you started with Anvil. He never made you talk but the option was always there. And you did, occasionally, if only to shut down one of the other guys. There was a certain respect from Curtis that you didn’t find in other people. He knew you were from an ‘elite covert kill squad’ since childhood but he didn’t ask other questions. He didn’t need to know everything to know that you were lost. It was refreshing and you liked to stay after official sessions to talk about whatever you were thinking or feeling.

But glancing at the time, it was too late for that. So you shrugged it off and decided you’d go next time. At least to say hello to an old friend, the least judgemental one you had left. Instead, you decided you’d go to the bookstore and add to your to-be-read collection while continuing to ignore texts from everyone that knew you.

It wasn’t long until alleged vigilantism found it’s way to you. That next morning, stories of an assault at a construction zone hit your ears. Bodies found under fresh concrete with more blunt force injuries than they should’ve had. Then, estimated to be a few hours later, a hit against a prominent crime family.

It had a familiarity to it that you couldn’t quite place, but it gave you an odd sense of comfort. There was the haunt of concern in your bones, as if you worried that there was something left unanswered within you, but Matt took that part with him. When he died, so did that part of you that wanted to do something good. That wanted to help the neighborhood you loved. You liked the fact that someone else was handling it for you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t vaguely set off an old itch that liked to be scratched. An old manic, sadistic, worrisome itch that could easily spiral to a full blown bloodbath.

So instead, you carried on with your day. You went to the grocery store to refill your fridge and your pantry. You bought some new clothes, more fitting for an FBI agent, and got some plastic totes to put away some of Matt’s things. The things you didn’t want to look at but couldn’t quite bring yourself to get rid of.

While you were out, you decided to stop by an old warehouse. You weren’t even sure if he would be there, but it was the only starting point you had. You knocked lightly on the door before heading inside, watching the corners and dark shadows carefully.

“Melvin.” You called out when you saw the vague shape of a man sweeping in the corner. “I just wanna talk.”

“Whoever you are, I don’t talk.” He said sharply, coming into full view with a wrench gripped tightly in his hands. “Just go on back the way you came and this never happened.”

“We had a mutual friend.” You said simply, lifting your head a little. “Our Man in the Mask.”

“Shit.” He breathed, slowly dropping the wrench. “I uh, heard he’s gone… That true?”

“Yeah. Your suit protected him from a lot but couldn’t withstand a falling building.”

“Shit.” He said again.

“Mmm.” You agreed. “I came to ask you for something. A vest. Clean lines, simple build. Something I can wear daily, under my normal clothes.”

“Guess that makes you Exodus, huh?” He broke into a small smile that didn’t last. “Sorry but I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I figured… Neither do I, not really. Ever since Red went down, I…” You took a deep breath. “I got a good job lined up, just need a little something.”

He sighed heavily and turned to the ceiling before facing you again.

“I’ll do you a favor, just this once cause your friend always kept his word. But don’t expect anything else.” He said firmly, pointing a finger at you.

“One and done.” You nodded.

“Alright.. Ah jeez, okay. Your measurements the same? Red and black still?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You looked at your arms and chest. “And uh, no. No red.”

“C’mon.” He guffawed. “You and Daredevil were partners. You don’t want anything to remember him?”

“Just do whatever.” You shrugged. “How much?”

“It’s on me. I never charged your buddy so… Just gimme a day or two. I’ll get you something nice.”

“I appreciate it.” You offered a smile, though you didn’t quite mean it. “Thanks, Melvin.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off. “Don’t ask me for nothing. Alright? I mean it.”

“I get it.” You insisted as you backed towards the door. “Looking forward to it.”

Later that day, not long after you had unloaded all of your groceries, a hard knock sounded at your door. You ignored it, assuming it was just your friends coming to see if you were home yet. Either that, some kids screwing around, or it was just someone from your past coming to kill you. Who exactly was out to get you at that point, you weren’t sure, but there were enough skeletons in your closet that hadn’t fallen out yet. So you went about your business until the door flew open and someone rushed in.

Calmly, you grabbed the gun you tucked between the fridge and wall and turned to face whoever was in your apartment. You gripped it comfortably and cleared your throat, seeing them turn with a sharp gasp. Your brows raised expectantly and Karen’s hands shot up instantly.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.” She breathed before covering a hand to her chest. “How long have you been back?”

“How often do you come into my apartment?” You asked instead, lowering the gun but not putting it down.

“I just-” She tried to explain but her eyes kept falling to the gun. “Can you put that down, please?”

“Don’t trust me anymore?” You raised your brows before tucking the gun into the back of your waistband. “Answer my question.”

“Has he reached out to you?” She asked instead.

“I’m not playing games, Karen. If you have something to tell me, then spit it out and get out of my apartment. If you only came here to fuck around…”

“Frank.” She said quickly. “Frank’s back.”

“Explains the news.” You tilted your head in acknowledgement. “What’d he come to you for?”

“Something about some Micro, a guy that came after him recently. Knows who he is, that he’s alive.”

“Micro… This guy have a real name?”

“David Lieberman, NSA analyst that is officially shot dead by Homeland Security a year ago.”

“Only he’s not.” You nodded. “Okay. Where’s Frank now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he going after Lieberman?” You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead, weighing the pros and cons of you getting involved.

“Probably… But Frank said he’s a- He’s a spook. How would he find him?”

“Well, he wouldn’t go for him directly, but someone that knows him or is relevant to him just might work to draw him out. What other names did you work out?”

“Carson Wolf got the whole story cut, could be something there.”

“Probably.. Name sounds familiar.” You felt the scales tilting back and forth in your brain. “Why did you come and tell me about this?”

“Because I-” She hesitated, as if she had just noticed your reaction. “He doesn’t really seem like he wants me involved.”

“So you want me to go run into a fight I know nothing about?” You dropped your hand against your leg with a smack and opened your eyes. “Don’t you think if Frank wanted my help, he would’ve came to me himself?”

“Maybe he didn’t know where to find you.” She offered, clearly searching for anything to convince you.

“Or maybe he didn’t care enough to find me.” You countered with a shrug. But seeing the desperation in her eyes, feeling the plead in her bones, you sighed heavily. “I’ll think about it… I’ll look into Lieberman, maybe there’s a wife or siblings or something. And this Wolf guy, I think I heard his name around Quantico so I guess I can pull some strings in that direction.”

“Thank you.” She let out a sharp exhale, as if she had been holding her breath for your response. “Have you told Foggy you’re back?”

“No.” You turned away to busy yourself in your kitchen. “Haven’t told anyone.”

“I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She tried gently. You noticed the hesitation in her words and realized she was walking on eggshells, completely unsure of how stable you were. “Or at least hear from you.”

“The last conversation we had was an argument.” You admitted, though your voice lacked the remorse it should’ve had and it was too late to add it in now. “And he flinched away from me… He told me that if I wanted to get myself killed, I was more than welcome to as long as I didn’t try to blame anyone other than myself for it.”

Her mouth opened and closed in silence, like she was chomping at the air while she tried to find a response. Finally, her voice found her and it was the same response you expected.

“He had to have still been in shock.”

“He had more than enough time to get over it.”

“I know he wouldn’t say that to you and mean it.” She reasoned.

“Yeah, just like Matt never would’ve said half of what he said to me during the Castle trial, right?” Your brows raised in accusation and you saw her expression drop. “Yeah, sometimes pain or shock bring out what people really mean.”

“Y/N-”

“Doesn’t matter.” You cut in firmly. “Next time you see Frank, ask him if he wants my help. In the meantime, I’ll poke around and start building some intel.”

“Thanks.” She forced a tight smile. “And I’ll talk to Foggy, if you want me to.”

You simply shrugged.

“He’s one of your best friends, isn’t he?” She asked gently, scared for what your answer would be.

“Most of the people I’ve called friends have grown to hate me for one reason or another… I guess I always knew I’d add Foggy to that list one of these days.” You answered flatly.

“C’mon, Y/N.” She tried again.

“Better that than dead… You can go now.”

With a small gesture of defeat, she left. And you wondered if you were going to regret getting involved.

Some quick research into Lieberman showed he did leave a family behind, a wife and two kids. You had no intentions of hurting them but should there be a need, you had blackmail material. He was allegedly shot dead by Homeland after resisting arrest. There was nothing about why he was wanted by Homeland, nor was there anything about his career. But he was NSA, so there should’ve been something other than a passing mention.

That all just meant someone wanted it to go away, and that someone was likely this Carson Wolf character.

You thought about going over to the address you could find for Sarah Lieberman but you assumed Frank would’ve been there already. And two unfamiliar visitors in one day would’ve triggered some sort of concern in the wife, who you had to assume was helping hide her undead husband until you knew otherwise. Instead, you wrote down the address and looked into Carson Wolf. You found that he was one of the higher ups at Homeland Security. It was an interesting connection that you’d have to poke at later.

With a little digging, you also found some information on the construction site incident. There was a feature on the company’s webpage about a new employee, which was asterisked as inactive the day after the bodies were found. There was no picture on the page but you could only assume that Pete Castiglione was the one and only, Frank Castle.

You decided to get out of the house and headed out to get something to drink. You passed by Josie’s and thought about going in. But when you reached the door, you were hit with one of many memories of you and Matt in that place so you had to pass. You passed other bars as you wandered and none really seemed inviting. Eventually, your feet grew tired of aimlessly moving so you settled on a bar you had been to with Billy a few times. Low and behold, Billy was already there.

You felt his eyes following you as you passed by, taking a seat at the bar a few seats down. You ordered your drink and when it came out, you spun the liquid around the glass, listening vaguely to Billy talking about his service and Frank.

The woman kept asking questions pertaining to Frank and their conversation held your interest. Without making it obvious, you noted what she was asking.

Did he get dirty? Could he have been involved in drugs over there?

But why ask questions about a dead man? Who was she?

The gears in your brain were turning when you heard Billy’s question.

“So you’re single?” He asked, clear flirting in his tone. Your head cocked slightly and your brow raised, noticing he was already looking at you for a reaction. He laughed and tilted his bottle towards you but you simply smiled and shook your head.

He went back to his flirting and you rolled your eyes slightly at his next remark. But you did hear a name.

Special Agent Madani.

You could tell she was either going to be one hell of an obstacle or one hell of an ally.

You watched her leave and then decided to slide into her seat.

“Billy Russo, always the player.” You teased with a sly smile and he grinned. “How’ve you been? Lonely?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” He said happily. “And here I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, Quantico was fun but I got bored.” You shrugged playfully. “Knew everything they wanted to teach me.”

“Yeah, I bet you did..” He nodded, never dropping that sly smile. “Bet you made one hell of an impression too.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do… Y’know, I missed you.”

“You did not.” You scoffed lightly, gesturing to the bartender for a second drink. “Judging by your latest visitor.”

“Ah, I see what this is.” He chuckled. “You’re jealous.”

“In your dreams, Russo.” You rolled your eyes with an amused smile. “Who was that anyways? She was asking a lot of questions…”

“Dinah Madani.” He answered simply. “Homeland agent that brought a team through Anvil earlier.”

“Homeland, huh?” You turned towards the door even though she was long gone. “Interesting…”

“Why?”

When you didn’t answer, he reached for your chin and turned your face towards him.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” His eyes darted between yours as he tried to figure you out, but you knew he never would. Not in any way that would mean anything.

“Just curious why a Homeland agent is asking about a dead man is all…” You shrugged. “And it’s a pattern.”

“Oh, it’s a pattern.” He said with a nod, acting as if it explained everything. “What does the pattern tell you?”

“That you like women in power.” You answered plainly. “Me, now in the FBI and everything else I’ve done. Madani, in Homeland with what I would assume is solid standing. Next thing you know, you’re gonna bed a senator.”

“I’ll still come back to my best girl.” He smiled, tapping under your chin with a click of his tongue.

“Yeah, like there was any competition.” You chuckled.

“When’d you get back?” He nodded towards you, decidingly dropping your previous conversation topic.

“Week ago. I thought about coming by, decided not to.” A slight shrug of your shoulder.

“Why not?” He almost sounded hurt.

“Just tired. Needed sound time to settle in.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in slightly and raised his brows. “How about we spend some quality time tonight then, hmm? You got any other plans?”

“Hmm.” The corner of your mouth lifted to a small smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule, Mr. Russo.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back, wagging his finger at you with an amused smirk of his own. “I missed hearing you say that, pretty lady.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You nodded and sipped your drink.

You spent a little while longer drinking with Billy, catching up and teasing each other playfully. It was almost enough for you to forget what you had been asked earlier that night, to involve yourself in Frank’s latest crusade that he likely expected to cover on his own. Finding Frank would’ve been easy enough if you had a general direction to go in, but where could be? Would he be going after Micro or would he be taunting Micro to go after him again?

If this guy was as much a spook as Karen’s been led to believe, it wouldn’t be easy to draw him out. But knowing Frank, he would find a way to pull him out of his hidey-hole. Which meant you could follow your own leads tonight and potentially meet him, or you could worry about it tomorrow and waste a night with an old fling.

Billy was tempting… And Frank would be fine for one more night, wherever he was.

[geminijade]

His Handsome Face 💞💞

[apara-dise-penguin]

@blairwaldorfvibezzz ____ ♥

[dreamsuvivor]

I just saw someone on twitter call Ben Barnes ugly?!

THIS MAN???

UGLY??!!

Imagine being so tasteless…

[iloveprettyboysblog]

British Boys Do It Better 😏💞💕

[binbonsescape]

Songs for You | The Bowery Ballroom - New York (February 10, 2023)

[bullseyelover]

here are a bunch of text posts i made in 2021

[loubombshell]

Billy being protective.

Another day, another mission. Luckily for Y/n she loved her job, she loved the people around her. The missions and her boss. Her boss was her boyfriend, obviously.

Having your boyfriend as your boss makes life much more interesting, she was able to spend her breaks with him or going on special missions, like today.

Today Anvil was there, to protect a very important senator, being threatened. He is supposed to speak in front of a big crowd and needs a lot of protection.

Billy didn't like the guy from the beginning, but he paid well and in the end, that's everything that's important to the Anvil founder.

Y/n put on her uniform and got her bag, to go to the hotel, Billy told her about. Her mission was to stay by his side, near the senator.

The woman used the elevator, moving up into the 20th floor, the doors opened with a cute sound and released her boyfriend, already waiting for her.

"welcome." Billy gave her and blinding smile, which she returned immediately. Both of them walked next to each other, when he pulled her into a quiet corner.

"That's not professional, Sir." Y/n smirked and leaned with her back on a wall, looking up to him with a smirk.

"I love it, when you call me Sir." Billy smirked and leaned down to pull her into a hungry kiss. She responded immediately to him, pulled him impossible closer by his jacket and while he moved with his hands around her waist, holding her in place.

"Isn't your client waiting?" She asked trough the kisses.

"He's an idiot, he can wait for a few more minutes. I've better things to do." He answered but Y/n pulled slowly away.

"Come on, the earlier you start the earlier we're ready, we still have day and night together." Y/n told him, fixing his tie and jacket with a smile.

Billy rolled his eyes, still with a smile and nodded. "Alright." He agreed and fixed her hair, moving with his fingers through her hair.

Both of them, looked around the corner to see, if someone was walking in the hallway. When everyone was gone, they sneaked out and walked down the hallway to Billy's client.

Billy walked through the door, into the room to introduce her to the Senator.

"Senator?" Billy called him. "That's Y/n, she'll be at your side, together with me." He introduced her to him.

"It's nice to meet you." Y/n hold her hand out for him to shake it. He took a step closer and looked her up and down once, accepting her hand.

"Are you sure you can handle this? I'm afraid some big boys are running you over." The Senator smirked.

God, what an asshole.

"Don't worry, I'm educated enough, to know how to handle it." Y/n explained to him.

The Senator chuckled. "I'm just kidding, sweetheart." He told her and patted her cheek and walked past her to go and talk with a man, standing in the doorway.

Y/n took a few steps back and turned to Billy, who was about to go after him.

"No, don't." She stopped him immediately. "It's not worth it." The girl added.

Billy looked down to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he's so much of a fucking idiot." He told her.

"It's no problem, I'm old enough to ignore it." She gave him a smile and took her backpack off and go with the others through the plan.

-

There are only a few minutes left, until the speech was supposed to start. Billy was somewhere in the hotel, to go and check on all the others.

Y/n stood in the room, together with the Senator, she was looking out of the window to check everything there when an arm sneaked around her waist.

It wasn't Billy's arm.

She looked to the side, to look into the Senators face.

"I just wanted to excuse myself for my behavior earlier." He told her with a smile.

"It's not a problem, don't worry." Y/n smiled and tried to take a step away but he didn't let go of her.

"No, I really mean it. I'll make it up to you maybe this evening? I know a good restaurant." He told her.

Y/n gave him a nervous smile. "Look, I'm sorry I don't want to. Besides my boyfriend wouldn't like this." She explained to him.

"Come on, he's not going to find out." He told her.

Suddenly he got pulled away from her. Y/n turned around, to look at Billy.

"Get your fucking hands off of her." He told the Senator.

"What is going on? I didn't do anything to her." The Senator said.

"She is clearly uncomfortable!" Billy yelled at him.

"Why do you even care?! She's just one of your idiotic workers!" The Senator scremed back.

Billy straight his back immediately and walked even closer to him, looking him directly into the face. "I care about her, because I am her boyfriend, do you understand it?" He told him.

"What? I didnt-" He started but Billy interrupted him immediately.

"If you call my people idiotic one more time, I'm gonna fucking kill you." Billy told him and took Y/n's hand to leave.

"Hey! What are you doing? You can't leave, I paid all of you!" The Senator told him.

Billy stopped and turned around to him. "I thought you called them idiotic? I don't think you'll need us anymore. Just like I don't need your money, shove it up your ass." He told him and pulled Y/n out too.

They got into the car and drove away, after talking with all the others to leave. Billy pulled up in front of their penthouse and was about to step out, when Y/n stopped him.

"You alright?" Billy asked immediately. "I'm so sorry, I left you alone with him. I should've known-" He started but she interrupted him with a little kiss.

"You're fucking sexy, when you're being protective." Y/n smirked. "And don't worry about it, I already forgot about it." She added.

Billy laughed and pulled her in for another kiss. "You wanna switch to the back seat?" He asked her.

"Our bed is not far away, you know?"

"I know, I just want to make it more exciting." He said and Y/n laughed about it.

Not even a second later, they switched to the back seat.

[celestialspecial]

One of my good friends drew The Darkling and Alina and it just came in the mail and I’m salivating 🥵

Go follow him! His artist account is @portraitsbyalan

[peterman-spideyparker]

Mr. Russo (Billy Russo x Secretary!Reader)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this fic and other Billy Russo stories in my drafts for ages, and I figured while I was working on other Daredevil and Moon Knight fics, I’d throw in some of these older ones that I’ve never posted. I think the original intention was for this to be longer and a multi-part series, but I don’t like that idea anymore. I cut about a thousand words, and I might include those as a bonus separate part--I’m not sure yet. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Working for Billy Russo wasn’t a challenge like most people would expect. You know how to do your job and how to do it well. One late night of working allows something about your past come to the surface, changing the trajectory of the relationship you share with your boss.

Warnings: Fluff, Billy softening up, angst (mentions of crappy experience in New York and the foster care system/Billy Russo being brooding and sad/hurt and rage/delicious tension), implied smut, cursing, mentions of addiction (drugs/alcohol)

Other Characters: Frank Castle

Word Count: 5,495

Another day in the books. Although everyday at Anvil is never the same, it can get a little monotonous. You answer the phone, respond to emails, draw up contacts, and do whatever Mr. Russo needs.

Oh, Mr. William Russo.

Intelligent, suave, cultured, and the definition of sex on two legs.

He works so hard in his business, and he cares about what he does. Anything that you can do to make his day less stressful, you’ll do it, and that definitely came in handy today, even if it still is a late night for him. You catch a glimpse at the clock on your screen—7:14pm. With a tired sigh, you hear him shuffle some papers around and push his chair out, moving a short distance to slide on his coat. You hear the click of his Italian leather shoes move closer to where you sit, and you smell his expensive cologne in the gentle breeze he brings by. You watch him as he walks with a purpose when he stops in his tracks, turning around to address you. “Do you ever even go home?” he asks.

“Sir?” you ask, unsure where he’s going with this.

“You’re always here before I get here—no matter how early—and you always stay after me. I just don’t get it.”

“I do my job,” you tell him. “It’s that simple. I do it, and I make sure that I do it well.”

“You also deserve a break—a life. Don’t you have friends around to go out for a drink or anything?”

“No, actually,” you admit. “Last friend I made in New York was one from when I got here. She then took 180 dollars from my wallet and ran away, making me scrape by for food for the rest of that week. My family isn’t nearby, either, if that was your next question. Work—this—is all I have, really.” Oh God, do you sound pathetic.

“Where is your family?” Mr. Russo asks, slowly moving back to your desk.

You scrunch up your bottom lip in a frown and shake your head. “I don’t know. I grew up in the system. I’m assuming whoever my parents are, they live in the Boston area, since that’s were I grew up.”

His expression softens to something to one that you have only seen twice before. It’s not quite pity, but it’s deeper than sadness. “You grew up in the system?” he asks softly.

You give a small nod. “It changes you pretty quickly.”

“It does.” His lips part like he wants to say something more, but he presses them in a tight line and sticks his hand in his jacket pocket, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. 

“Is there anything I can do for you before you leave, Mr. Russo?”

He blinks a few times before he shakes his head. “N-No,” Billy breathes. “Have a nice night, (Y/N).”

“You too, sir.”

There’s flowers on your desk when you walk in the next morning. How are there flowers on your desk?

“Hello?” you call into the office, sliding pepper spray out of your purse. “Anyone here?” Dead silence. Nothing looks out of place except for the bouquet, and after a quick sweep of the office, you see that you are alone. You look through the flowers and don’t see any card. Logging into your computer, you quickly pull up surveillance to see who delivered these. Your jaw drops when you see Mr. William Russo himself walk in at four in the morning with the same giant vase of flowers to your right. You lean back in your chair, your brain not really comprehending what you just saw. After a few minutes, you move towards the beautiful assortment of white gardenias, yellow lilies, red tulips, and magenta lilacs. You stick your nose to the flowers and take in a perfume of scents that make your chest happy and bring a smile to your face, and that smile remains on your face as you get to work and organize Billy’s day.

“Mornin’,” Billy says with a nod, walking a few hours later, not acknowledging the assortment on your desk.

“Morning,” you respond as he moves closer. “Thank you,” you say just before he enters his office. You don’t need to turn around to know exactly where he is—about a stride and a half from being in the doorway to his office, his right foot mid-step. “They’re beautiful.”

He doesn’t respond, but he takes a minute before he continues his gait into his office. 

The rest of the day proceeds as it normally does: you respond to client emails, answer the phones, do other office work, and hand Billy files, briefing him before his meetings.

“Have a nice night, (Y/N),” he says, adjusting his scarf on his peacoat as he walks past your desk.

“You too, sir,” you say. “And remember you have a 7:30 meeting tomorrow morning at the Four Seasons with Thaddeus Ross to discuss security for the SHIELD weapons conference.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he says, turning to look at you, flashing you the faintest of smiles. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, considering you built this company from the ground up, I think you’d manage.” His smile grows a hair bigger. “Safe travels, Mr. Russo.”

The next few weeks proceed as they usually do, but you are dumbfounded yet again when you walk in Monday, about a month after you found the flowers on your desk.

“Morning,” Billy says, placing a coffee cup on your desk as he walks by. “Sweet cream cold brew, right?”

You turn in your chair and look at him, confusion and surprise written all over your face.

“Yeah,” you say. You notice he has a hot cup for himself in his hands. “You hate Starbucks.”

“I needed some extra caffeine this morning,” he shrugs.

“So the ‘shit-water jet fuel’ is what you were craving this morning?”

He nods, taking a sip of the drink in his hand. “Exactly,” he answers after he swallows. You can tell he still hates the brew.

“Well, thank you for thinking of me,” you say. “If you find yourself needing some more caffeine, just let me know and I’ll make a pot.”

His face says I’ll be taking you up on that in five minutes, but his lips say, “Thanks, (Y/N).”

The next morning, there is a bouquet of blush colored peonies, white gardenias, and purple roses on your desk.

“Vultures today, huh?” Billy says as he comes out of his office and to your desk, placing some outgoing mail in your organizer, adjusting some of the flowers in the assortment of roses, chrysanthemums, and asters. “That phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning.”

“It’s the political season,” you hum as you shift your gaze upward. “All the big wigs want the best security money can buy. You’ve made it clear that you and your people are the ones for that job.”

“You know how to flatter a man,” he chuckles, shaking some nuts you’re snacking on in his hand before plopping them in his mouth. 

“While you’re here,” you say, picking up a few slips of paper, handing them to him in an ordered fashion. “These are those calls back you were waiting for, these are inquiries from the three biggest politicians running for Senate, this is a message from Frank wanting to know if you’re on for dinner at Karen’s, and these are the Ulrich files you were waiting on.”

“Thank you, paperwork Santa,” he says, moving his gaze to quickly examine what is in front of him. “And here I thought it was gonna be a slow day.”

“Around here? Unlikely,” you grin.

He is about to say something more when he turns his head to the ringing of his direct line in his office. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “We’ll talk more later.”

You turn back to your computer in astonishment. We’ll talk more later? Is this the same Billy Russo that hired you? And does he mean casual talk or work talk? He would have made it clear, wouldn’t he?

“Anvil, this is (Y/N),” you say as you continue typing a contract on your desktop.

“(Y/N), hi,” you hear Mr. Russo say on the other end of the line.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you ask, spinning around in your chair and watching your boss  give you a little wave through the industrial loft windows.

“We’ve been over this, you can call me Billy,” he reminds. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” You have to suppress a blush. “What’s going on?”

“I just got off of a call about that veteran’s fundraiser,” he says, and you shift to flip through the calendar.

“The one on Saturday night?”

“Exactly. They asked me to present an award and introduce a speaker that night. So in addition to networking and schmoozing, I’m gonna need to do some more things.”

“Let me know what you need to have ready, and it’ll be good to go by Friday night.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d come with me Saturday. With my upgrade in duties, they gave me a plus one.”

What? “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t know if I have anything black tie like that,” you say. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll have it all taken care of. So can I take that as I yes?”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter. “And—.”

“Perfect, you’re the best,” he says, having up the phone with a click.

Did your boss just ask you out? Or is this really just a work engagement?

When you come home from work on Friday, you see a black dress bag hanging off a garment rack with black bag hanging next to it. Locking up and putting down your things on the table by your door, you slowly move over to it.

“Told you I had it taken care of,” the note reads on the bag.

“What did you do, Russo?” you breathe, undoing the zipper. Inside, there is a stunning pine green gown. You look at the label and your mouth drops open: Oscar de la Renta. Taking it out of the bag, you see that it has a v-back, but has fabric coming off of each shoulder to give it a kind of cape effect. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion when you dare look over at the jewelry bag on the right next to it, seeing Harry Winston embossed in gold lettering. Carefully, you take it off of the hangar and peak inside, seeing three boxes neatly arranged. Placing it on your breakfast bar, you pull out the large necklace box, opening it to reveal both a sparkling diamond necklace and its matching earrings. Shocked, you pull the other two boxes out and find that they are the corresponding bracelet and ring. As you look down in disbelief, you catch a Louis Vuitton shoe box at the bottom of the rack.

You sit down on the barstool, lightheaded about the luxury that is around you. As if on cue, you see Billy’s contact light up on your phone.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen what you’ll be wearing tomorrow?” he says after you pick up.

“It’s way too much,” you say. “I appreciate it, but all this is more—it’s too much.”

“It fits the event,” he shrugs off. “It’s a ritzy event full of high-rolling investors, contributors, and other people within the top one per cent. Trust me, you’ll fit right in.”

“I just . . .”

“It’s a lot?” You swear he’s smiling like a devil on the other end.

“A hell of a lot.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the jewelry is on loan,” he says. “But the dress and shoes are yours to keep. Oh, and before I forget, you have an appointment to get your hair and nails done tomorrow with Donna at the Marigold Spa. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before your brain can think to ask him more, he is off the line, leaving you stunned in your apartment. 

“Who is it?” you call from your apartment, responding to the rap at the door.

“Your chariot has arrived,” Billy says through the wood.

“I’m almost ready,” you say, nearly falling over as you try to put on the heels standing up. “Come in! It’s open.” You hear the door open and shut, and the click of expensive shoes against the vinyl floor.

“You know, for someone that works for a security company, leaving the door unlocked isn’t secure,” he teases.

“I knew you’d be over soon and I was still getting ready,” you say. “Just a courtesy.”

“To robbers.”

You chuckle as you successfully gain your footing in one of the shoes. “There’s water in the fridge if you’re thirsty,” you start as you slide on the other shoe, throwing a few last minute things in your clutch, and taking one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“I’m good," you hear him chuckle in a low timbre as you clack your way out of your room. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright, I’m all set to go,” you say as you enter the main living space.

Billy turns toward you and stands stock still. His eyes slowly look over your body from head to toe. It’s as if he’s drinking you in.

“Wow,” he finally says, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights of your kitchen.

“Well, the guy that picked it out has really good taste,” you say with a small grin and a blush rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “Thank you.”

He continues to look at you for a little while longer before he realizes that he’s staring.

“These are for you,” he says, holding out a bouquet of burgundy, cream, and lavender roses. “A little thank you for agreeing to come.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, smelling them. You move to find a vase, getting the flowers settled before walking back towards Billy.

He puts out his arm for you to take.

“Shall we?”

“I still can’t figure out how you manage to do it,” you say as you walk beside Billy after he schmoozes the last of the big-wigs in tuxedos.

“Do what?” Billy asks with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Work so well with these upper-crusty people. Some of them very clearly just a face at this fundraiser and don’t care the same way you do. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Unfortunately, that’s just what the business is sometimes,” he sighs. “But then I remember that Anvil gives veterans an outlet when they get home—a legitimate career. Then it makes the schmoozing and pretending to care about their Hamptons houses easier.”

“That’s a great way to think about it,” you say softly. 

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Instead of walking to the direction of your table, Billy leads you to the edge of the dance floor.

“Care do dance?” Billy smiles.

“I can’t promise that I won’t step on your toes,” you say, feeling a blush prick at your cheeks and your ears.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have the band play something slow.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if his Marine-trained ears could hear how hard your heart is beating. 

“How can I say no to that, then?” you say with a small smile, your mouth suddenly very dry.

Billy takes your hand and leads you in. As if the band knows, the song shifts to something slow. Billy holds one of your hands in his while the other rests on the small of your back, his palm spread wide, securely holding you as you both move across the floor.

“And here I was thinking you had two left feet,” he grins.

“Well, I guess it helps that it’s not a formal ballroom dance,” you blush. Seriously, he has to know how fast your heart is racing right now.

“Is this what you thought you’d be doing with your life?” Billy asks as you slowly move in a circle. “Being a secretary, dealing with executives and government officials, and going to charity fundraisers?”

“Isn’t it every little girls dream?” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

He chuckles, twirling you to the music before he pulls you back into frame.

“No, really,” Billy whispers. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”

You think about it, but only briefly. “An author, I think. With all the time I spent in the system, I always tried to figure out how I could get out or what it would be like when I did. I’d just write about it. It moved from that to creating these different worlds and different people that were everything that I wasn’t and everything that I couldn’t be. Those are what made me happy. Scholarships from those stories is what got me through college to get my undergrad.”

There’s something soft in his eyes, tender even, as he listens to you talk about your childhood dream. It’s soul-churning and completely devastating in every sense of the word.

“What about you?” you return. “I’m assuming that the military wasn’t six-year-old Billy’s dream.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he admits. “I wanted to be a baseball player. But there were things that happened when I was a kid . . .” He clears his throat. You’ve touched a nerve.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, it’s okay. Saying that my childhood was shitty is an understatement, but it made me who I am and brought me here. In a way, I think the Marines was the only thing that made sense for me.” He gives you a gentle smile, pushing away the dark cloud that emerged on his face. “And just think: without it, we wouldn’t have met. And I don’t know about you, but our time together makes me happier.”

Your heart stops and leaps into your throat. He has to just mean as a coworker—maybe just even someone who isn’t an ex-Marine that he gets to see to break up his environment. You can’t let your mind go to these conclusions. It’d just be a disappointment, and he’s my boss. Still, you find yourself unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze, the tenderness in his expression making you melt. The song stops and he drops the frame, and you let your eyes flutter a few times so you can adjust your head out of the haze he has placed you in. Billy keeps his hand in yours as you stand, pointing his head towards your table. 

“C’mon,” he says. “I heard the steak was supposed to be amazing.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Billy asks as you hand him a bottle of water, his elbow cooly leaning against the island.

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit, taking off the heavy jewels. “I don’t know, I hear fancy fundraiser, and I don’t think ‘party.’”

“That’s cuz you’ve never been to a Billy Russo fundraiser,” he smirks.

“I guess those are the only ones worth going to, then.”

“You know, I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“You are?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Oh,” you blush, but a nagging question starts to echo in the back of your brain. “I-I didn’t mean to. Just tired.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll let you be for the night,” he says with a soft smile, giving you hand a gentle squeeze on the island before he moves away. “See you Monday, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. 

Okay, that’s it.

“Are you only being nice to me because you found out I grew up in foster care?” you blurt as he walks towards the door. There’s no turning back now. “Before, you’d never say more than you needed to to me, and now for five months, you’ve gotten me flowers, you ask about my day, you know my coffee order, and you left me an insanely gorgeous gown and jewelry to wear to a fundraiser that I wasn’t supposed to go to in the first place.” You pause for a moment, processing that you’re probably running a bond that you’ve wanted for a long time, not to mention your job, probably. “What’s changed?”

“You know I grew up in the system?” he asks, his head turned to the side while his back is still to you.

“I do,” you answer. You had done some deep digging when you were applying for the job, trying to find out as much about the company and its founder as possible.

“Then you should realize that I sympathize with you. Pouring your life into something to move yourself as far away from your past as possible.”

“What I’m really hearing is that all of this from the last few months has just been pity,” you say bitterly, and you try to push away the feeling of tears stinging at your waterline. “And if that’s what this job has turned into, then I don’t need it. I know my worth, and it’s more than that—than whatever this is.”

Your statement causes him to spin around so fast you think he’s gonna get whiplash. He strides over to you so quickly you almost can’t process it. He drops his keys to the ground before kissing you hard, one hand on your waist as the other holds onto the back of your head. He almost knocks you off your feet, but his hands on your body assure that it can’t be a possibility. Your hands rest on his shoulder as your lips move against him, kissing him back just as urgently. His beard tickles a little, but you’re not moving in a way that makes it scratch. When Billy finally pulls away, you’re both left panting for air.

“It’s not pity,” he clarifies. “It’s admiration. I had always thought you were some brown-noser with daddy issues, but you always had this integrity and determination. And then . . .” he trails, his eyes intent and glassy. “I know that drive you have, and that fear of being a disappointment. Hell, that’s how I got here. I wanted to show you that we’re not that shit that happened to us. I wanted to show you that I care.”

“It’s a hell of a way to show it,” you say quietly, looking at his big brown eyes. “I, um . . .” you swallow hard and let emotion contort your face, reeling your feelings in before you continue. “Every time someone finds out, they treat me differently. I really didn’t want you to be one of those people. You might not have thought so, but the way you treated me before made me feel like I finally had a place, y’know? I had a purpose to do something. That I was needed and wanted.”

“I know,” he nods.

“I guess I’m just confused why now.” 

“You’ve been my secretary for four years. You know things about me that I don’t even know all the time. You know things about me that you don’t need to know, but you care enough to. I’ve always wanted to know those things about you, but . . . I’m not great at communication with people that—.” He stops to clear his throat, furrowing his brows together. “The only good relationships I have are with Frank and Curtis, and that’s because we’ve been through hell and back with and for one another. I didn’t know where to start with you, because you just come in and you’re like this . . . force to be reckoned with. I guess that finding out we had something in common made me think I could know you better.”

Billy tucks some stray hair behind your ear as he looks at you. “I don’t want to go back to what this was before,” he says softly. “I like this. Having a friend. Connecting with someone. And . . . I like to think this has the potential to be more than that. Than friends.” 

“Well, I guess I need to know if you kiss all your friends like that.”

A small smile spreads across Billy’s face. “Just the ones that use lemon shampoo and look good in designer dresses.”

“I’m not fired, am I?” you whisper. “Because I think a kiss like that is some kind of HR violation.”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” he responds. “I will say, though, the job market is tough right now.”

“Is this something we can do?”

“I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

You nod your head. “Let’s try it.”

Billy leans back in for a kiss, this one more gentle that the last, but just as deep. Your arms wrap around him and settle on his back, and you feel him lift you up slightly as he pulls you into him.

“We’re gonna do this slowly,” he breathes, brushing his nose against yours, his chocolate eyes staring into your soul.

“Okay,” you quietly agree. “Slow.”

“We have different definitions of slow,” you hum as Billy presses a kiss to the back of your naked shoulder.

“Trust me, I wanted to, but I have a thing for brunettes in designer dresses,” he says, dragging his hands down the bare curves of your body in post-sex bliss. “And it looks just as good on the floor as it did on you tonight.”

You laugh as you roll onto your back, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Hi,” he says with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hi,” you say, returning his gaze. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss to your lips before resting his cheek on the crown of your head. You lay like this in blissful silence as his fingers play with yours, the pale moonlight trickling into your bedroom through the curtains. You think he has fallen asleep—and you almost have—when he shifts a little on the mattress.

“Did you ever think of finding them?” he asks quietly. You know exactly who “them” is.

“I did find them,” you say. “I found out all about them, too. A little after I told you about growing up in the system, actually—curiosity got the best of me.” You think about what you know, and the silence weighs heavy in the bedroom. “My father was an alcoholic, and my mother used all kinds of drugs. They had a short and nasty relationship and split before I was born. My dad worked on the docks, showed up one day drunk, hit is head, and drowned. Based on his obituary, I was six when he died. My mom sobered up around that time, got married, and lives in Cape Cod.” You feel hot, angry tears sting at your waterline. “Two kids, and a freakin golden retriever.”

“And I’m guessing you don’t want to reach out?” he asks carefully.

You scoff. “No. Didn’t want me then, won’t want me now. I’m a part of that past that she worked to forget. I don’t want to go near her with a ten-foot pole. Besides, if she wanted to know me, she’d find me. She’d find a way. And she hasn’t. That says all I need to know.”

Billy wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, pressing a long kiss to your forehead.

“She’s missing out on the best person that I know,” he whispers.

Too emotional to respond, you snuggle into him and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Have you?” you whisper. “Found yours?”

“I found my mom,” he swallows. “She chose meth over me—she safe-havened me. From then on it was group homes.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I think I’ve made my peace with it all. Can’t change it. But it made me who I am, and I’m okay with who I am.”

You don’t ask any more onto the subject. Instead, you snuggle in closer to him.

“For what it’s worth,” you breathe. “I really like who you are, too.”

Billy turns so you’re huddled together chest-to-chest, his arms holding onto you tightly, kissing your forehead before tucking your head under his chin. You fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

You practically jump out of your skin when you feel a pair of arms loosely wrap around your middle.

“Jesus, Billy,” you sigh. “You really don’t make a sound if you’re not wearing Italian leather shoes.”

His laugh comes out as a hum as he places a kiss on the back of your neck, right on a bundle of nerves he found out about last night.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” he murmurs into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you grin as you turn the waffle maker.

He kisses your neck again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought the guy was supposed to make breakfast.”

“Not in my house,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as you move to flip some bacon. “My place, my job to make you some food.”

“Fine,” he sighs, moving from you, but not before placing a light smack on your rear. “But I make the coffee.”

“You want any eggs?” you ask.

“Nah,” he says, pouring coffee grounds into the filter. “This all is more than enough. I don’t usually get to enjoy this part.”

“Well, if we’re gonna make a habit of this, it’s something you better get used to.”

You finish making breakfast in harmony, exchanging sections of the newspaper as you eat.

“Wow,” Billy chews, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re destroying the crossword.”

“It’s a talent,” you smirk as you pause before filling in the rest of your answer. “Now, is it ‘ei’ or ‘ie’ in Steinbeck? I can never remember.”

“I guess you got cocky too soon,” he smiles.

“Yes, and I’m big enough to admit it. Which is it?”

“I’ll tell you, but it’ll cost ya.”

“Oh?” you say as his hand slides into mine, silently inviting you to get up and sit in his lap. You do, and his free hand squeezes your thigh.

“It’s gonna cost you a kiss,” he hums.

“Mm, you run a hard bargain, but I think I can afford that,” you smile, biting your lip as you press your mouth into his. It’s tender, and even with coffee in your systems, there’s something sexily sleepy about the embrace.

“It’s ‘ei’,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours before placing another kiss on you lips.

“Thank you,” you say, filling in the squares and placing a soft kiss on the freckle just below his eye. His hand then gently holds your cheek, bringing your lips down to his. The kisses grow more needy, and just after he adjusts you so your legs straddle his lap, his phone starts to ring. Reluctantly, he pulls away and looks at his phone.

“Shit,” he hisses before he answers. “Hey, Frankie.”

“Brother, where are you?” you hear Frank ask through the phone.

“Yeah, no, I’m on my way,” he sighs. “I just got a little held up this morning.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hear him chuckle. “Where’d you find this one?”

Billy looks at you with warm, sparkling eyes. “I think she found me.”

“And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.”

“Yeah, shut up,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon.”

Billy hangs up to avoid any more snark over the line from his friend, but not before kissing you once more.

“I didn’t realize it was this late,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

“I know: ten o’clock runs with Frank, every Sunday. And if you go by the office, you have some extra workout clothes there so you don’t have to run in a tuxedo.”

“Nothin’ gets by you.”

“Nope,” you smile, popping the ‘p’.

You get up from his lap and begin to clean up the table while Billy moves back to your room to get his clothes.

“I will trade you one dress shirt for one very soft and fluffy robe,” he offers when he comes back into the kitchen, your Hello Kitty robe hanging from his finger.

“I guess I accept,” you sigh dramatically. You slide Billy’s shirt off of your body and hand it to him as he slides the robe onto your shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, adjusting the collar on your robe.

“Tomorrow,” you nod. “Have fun with Frank.”

“Somethin’ tells me I’d be havin’ more fun here.”

He leans down to kiss you, repeatedly procrastinating his delay with each punctuation of his lips.

“Okay,” he kisses. “I’ll see you—.” Kiss. “—tomorrow morning—.” Kiss. “—bright—.” Kiss. “—and—.” Kiss. “—early.”

You giggle as he takes you in for more kisses. You pull away from his reach, only to be swept back in for one final kiss.

“I really gotta go, now,” he sighs, tucking hair behind your ear.

“I know. I’ll see you soon.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​​​​​​​​​ @steampowerednightvaler​​​​​​​​​​ @themusingsofmany​​​​​​​​​​ @just-the-hiddles​​​​​​​​​​ @toozmanykids​​​​​​​ @dangertoozmanykids101​​​​​​ @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother​

[grishaversewhore]

if i had a nickel for every time ben barnes played a hot love interest who turns out to be the villain and gets scarred for season 2 I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

two - if he had been with me

tags: n/a // one // three // masterlist

Pairing: Billy x Reader (Casual) , Frank x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 7,195

Summary: Further and further her humanity goes as Y/N commits herself to Frank Castle's crusade. Small moments threaten to bring her back, but how can she when there's nothing worth it... Or is there.

The next morning, you woke in a start with the same dream. A hand flying to your chest while the other rubbed the nonexistent blood out of your eye. Glancing around while the room spun for moments, you recognized you weren’t in the rubble but in your bed. Although the weight against your chest would’ve argued otherwise. When you got back from washing your face, Billy was awake and sitting at the edge of the bed.

“You still dream about him?” He asked simply.

“Hmm?” Your brows raised innocently. “Dream about who?”

“C’mon, Y/N. I hear you talkin’ in your sleep. Mumblin’ about your precious Matt. It was like that before you left too.”

You shrugged and leaned on the doorframe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you took down some of the pictures. And the painting.”

“You’re starting to sound like my friends, Billy.” You said with a slight edge to your tone.

“That’s a bad thing now?”

“It’s an annoying thing right now.” You countered. “There’s a reason I’m avoiding them.”

“Y/N.. If you need more time-” He tried and you groaned as you pushed yourself up. “Don’t do that!”

“You know where the door is once your pants are on!” You called over your shoulder, waving a hand goodbye while you headed to your kitchen. “Don’t embarrass yourself in front of Miss Fran across the hall. She’ll stop being nice to me.”

There was a quiet commotion while he shuffled around your bedroom, finding the sporadic trail of clothes before he made his way over to you. He leaned against the countertop while you busied your hands and attention on the stove.

“Y/N, I’m not trynna make you talk about somethin’ you don’t want to, alright? Bringing up your guy crossed a line. I’m sorry…” He offered gently. Honestly. And the sentiment made you roll your eyes to yourself. “I just wanna make sure you’re good.”

You sighed heavily and turned towards him. “I’m fine.” You offered a tight, meaningless smile. “Happy?”

He shook his head and sighed inwardly while you turned away.

“So.. How long do I still have you for?” He asked instead.

“What?” Your brows furrowed at the odd question.

“Your words. You can’t work Anvil and your hotshot FBI gig at the same time. When is it official?”

“Oh.. I don’t know. I got my badge before I left so Dex tells me we’re just waiting on the SAC to get the go-ahead. I can work as a freelancer if you need me in the meantime.”

“I always need you.”

“Yeah, okay.” You scoffed. “When’s your next recruitment?”

“I gotta check, b... I’ll let you know.. You wanna come with me later? I gotta go see Curtis.”

“No, I gotta take care of some other stuff.” You brushed him off, knowing you had to devote some time today to finding Frank and Micro. “But I’m going to Curtis’ meeting today so we should cross paths.”

“Then I will see you later.” He nodded before pushing off to get ready to leave.

Once he was gone, you got yourself ready. You took a quick shower and wore an outfit fitting for an FBI agent, given that was the guise you would use to get into her house, and clipped your badge to your belt. You dug through your collection to find one of the pocket devices that came in handy when it came to cameras and signals, for nothing more than your own hunch for an NSA agent’s house. You added your gun to the back of your belt - more to pull the persona together than any sort of threat - and headed out to Sarah Lieberman’s.

As you drove over to the house, Dex called. He asked if you wanted in on a potential investigation, something about Carson Wolf being murdered in his own home the night before. It was an interesting coincidence given the fact that Frank had returned and a separate agent was asking questions about him. You had no doubts that Frank was involved but it did leave a nice chance to find out just how dirty Wolf was to get himself killed. You agreed to throw your name into the pot.

“Hi, are you Sarah Lieberman?” You asked politely and she shifted uncomfortably in her doorway.

“Yes. Can I help you?” She asked tightly and you saw the blur of a child running around behind her.

“I’m Special Agent Y/L/N. May I come in?”

“What is this about?”

“Have you had any sort of odd interactions recently? A man who seemed to have appeared out of the blue.”

“This is about Pete.” She sighed with a nervous chuckle. “I just filed the insurance claim yesterday. I didn’t think it would… Wait, special agent?”

“Yes.” You nodded simply, shifting your jacket to show your badge. “May I come in?”

She nodded quietly and stepped aside, welcoming you in. Once you crossed the threshold, the sharp tone pinged in your ear. You winced inwardly and rubbed the area near your implant, glancing around to find something that would’ve interfered with the signal. There was a camera somewhere, the watchful eye of the ghost of a spouse, and it wasn’t likely to be alone. Your eyes were darting quickly, between corners and other wall decor for the small lens but you couldn’t find anything. Nothing obvious at least.

“Are you alright, Agent?” She asked from your side, offering you the worried eyes that often became the default for mothers.

“Yes, just a migraine.” You gestured vaguely to your head.

“Oh! I have Tylenol. Give me just a second.”

“No, I’d hate to put you out.” “Nonsense.” She smiled kindly and disappeared into her kitchen.

You made a small noise to yourself before pulling that pocket tech. You booted it up and wandered the living room, changing the height and angle as the screen flashed to track down the nearest camera. As you were searching, you noticed a small body on the stairs watching you.

“Who are you?” He asked with lips pursed in disgust as if to say how dare someone be in his home.

“FBI. Who are you?” You answered simply as your device pointed you to a family portrait. You smirked slightly and tapped some buttons, beginning to track the signal. Before you would leave,  you would know exactly where to go.

“I live here.” He stated as if it was obvious.

“It’s a nice house.” You nodded, finally turning to face the disgruntled young boy. “Can I ask you about the man from yesterday?”

“I didn’t see him.”

“Okay..”

“I didn’t!” He insisted.

“I believe you, kiddo.” You chuckled slightly.

“Can I hold your gun?” He asked suddenly.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head and he frowned. “You get a little older and I can teach you how to use it.”

His eyes lit up before he scampered back up the stairs, and you wondered if that was something Sarah should be concerned about. She came back soon after and she profusely apologized, just in case her son said anything uncalled for. You brushed it off and accepted her offer of painkillers and water. You two spoke about the interaction from the day before between her and “Pete”.

“Mrs. Lieberman, I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.” You confessed, intending to build some sense of trust in case you needed her for information later on. “I’m not just looking for Pete out of coincidence. He’s family… I haven’t heard from him in a long time and the FBI gave me more resources to try and track him down. He’s refused to answer any of my messages across any platform but now I have a chance to reconnect with him.”

“Oh.” She smiled slightly. “Pete didn’t mention a sister.”

“Cousin, actually. All the family I have are just cousins..”

“We exchanged numbers and I can give that.”

“I doubt he’d answer.” You shook your head. “He always seems to know when I’m calling.”

“Okay... Well, my insurance is sending some paperwork that’ll need his signature so I’ll see him again. I can let him know you stopped by.” She offered honestly.

“That’d be great, thank you.” You nodded with a faux sentimental smile. Your tech buzzed in your pocket and you knew you had the source of the signal. “I’d better be going.”

She offered you something to eat, saying you’d be more than welcome to stay for lunch but you brushed off her invitation. You couldn’t waste any more time with socializing and pleasantries. The only thing that stopped you from heading straight over was your prior commitment to stop by Curtis’. The commitment was only made to get Billy out of your apartment without being completely blunt about it, given the fact that you two would still be interacting at Anvil and likely throughout the course of whatever crusade you were riding into. And despite your mild stalling, you ended up walking into Billy and Curtis’ conversation. So you hung back in the hall for a minute to allow yourself to be nosy.

“Mover and a shaker. A man of wealth and taste.” Curtis said and you could hear the smile in his words. “You always knew you were destined to do great things, I’ll give you that.”

The guys both chuckled slightly.

“I can’t tell if you think that’s a good thing or not.” Billy said with a small laugh.

“No, I’m proud of you man.”

“Y’know there’s always a job for you at Anvil... An instructor’s job.”

“Y/N finally make it official then and leave your ass?” Curtis asked and you could imagine the expression he wore. “She ever call you back?”

“No but…” Billy sighed and your brows furrowed. “When it comes to Y/N, I just…”

“Lose all sense in your head.” Curtis teased.

“I do not!” Billy laughed.

“Man, I have never seen you fawn over any woman like that! You’re like a lost little puppy whenever she comes around.”

“Kiss my ass.” He laughed and you waited a beat before walking in. “It’s not about Y/N, alright?”

“Topic of conversation even when I’m not in the room, huh?” You joked with a wide grin. “Nice to see you, Curtis.”

“I was wondering when you’d finally walk through that door.” Curtis grinned and stood to hug you. “How was training?”

“Boring.” You shrugged. “Knew it all.”

“Show off.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Y/N, don’t you think Curtis would be great as an instructor at Anvil?” Billy tried, coming to your side to use you in their prior conversation.

“Hell of a corpsman from what I heard.” You agreed. “I bet you would’ve sewn your own leg back on if you had the chance.”

“Hell yeah, you wanna go find it?” Curtis laughed. “You gonna stay? I know some of the guys have just been waiting to try and rile you up again.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some time to kill.” You said with a small nod. “Don’t expect me to come in later this week then.”

“Sounds good.. Wanna help get some of the snacks from the kitchen? Keep you outta trouble.” Curtis pointed a stern finger at you. “C’mon.” You laughed. “When have I ever gotten into trouble?”

“I’ve gotta take off but we still good for tomorrow night?” Billy asked Curtis and you had the itch to be nosy again.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Curtis nodded.

“You know making plans when someone else in the room isn’t invited makes people uncomfortable, right?” You said plainly, though it made the boys laugh.

“Tomorrow’s Frank’s birthday.” Curtis explained. “You were his lawyer, right?”

“Yeah, till he blew his top and kamikaze’d my case.” You rolled your eyes slightly as you thought about his outburst on the stand that day. “I do feel bad about the way it all went down though…”

“You wanna come?” Billy tapped your arm. “Just a little memorial thing, y’know, personal.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. Thanks.” You gave a tight, hopefully grateful smile. “I’ll be back with the snacks.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Curtis nodded and when he thought you were out of earshot, you heard him ask Billy. “Let me guess. You still haven’t told her how you feel.”

That was going to make things awkward.

You stayed for the meeting but didn’t say much. Some of the members welcomed you back and hung around to catch up afterwards. Others hardly noticed but one man, some old white man who’s name you never cared to learn, continued to disregard you and say that you didn’t deserve the seat. You offered to go outside and show him exactly what you thought he deserved, but Curtis was quick to shut that down. Even though the man was practically cowering away from you by that point. Other than the cranky old man, it was nice to be back in that sort of routine.

The next day, you swung by Melvin’s workshop and hung around while he finished the vest. Despite your hesitations, he had utilized a dark red base fabric that was seen between the edges of the plates. There were devil horns that sat level with your collarbones at the center of the chest, matching the horn tattoo near your spine that you got your first night at Quantico as an alleged initiation ritual. There was white stitching along the hem of the collar and a faint stitched outline of an hourglass. When you asked about it, he said that it was a tribute to where you came from but it was white to show that you were better. You scolded him for sounding like Matt, left some money on his bench, and chucked it in your trunk before you decided it was time to find Frank.

You hopped back in your car and followed the route you were recommended. As you drew closer to the location, the scenery didn’t surprise you at all. It was remote, well out of the way of any city traffic. Everything around it seemed abandoned, or damn near it. There wasn’t another soul for blocks, maybe even miles.

Perfect spot for a ghost.

You ditched your car a few alleys over and kept your pocket device in hand, though you took a second to tuck your badge under your seat. As you got closer, you were able to track cameras and their field of view. You had to circle the building a couple times before you caught sight of a blind spot that led right up to an old, rusted out chain link gate. Behind the gate sat an old maintenance door that was practically falling off its hinges. Beside that, a ladder to the roof, where you assumed another point of access would be. If not a door, then the vents.

You hurried across the gap and squeezed between the fence. When you shifted the door, it creaked loudly and the sound echoed through the empty alleys. You cursed slightly and moved it out of the way enough for you to sneak in sideways. It fell back into place with a loud thud and you winced slightly as it echoed in your hollow chest, dense enough to mimic the Midland explosion. In a swift motion, you tucked away your tech and pulled your gun, keeping it aimed downwards but your muscles remained tense. You crept the dark halls, hearing vague voices from a distance.

You kept going, following the voices and the small glow of light, until you were a few feet from where the guys were. Low and behold, Frank Castle. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to curse him out and make him feel bad for never reaching out. You wanted to shame him for ignoring you, for not being there when your entire life fell apart and Matt’s life was taken. But you willed yourself to stay still, to stay quiet.

Screaming about it wouldn’t change the past, so why bring it up at all?

The heat that lived inside of you now made a friend in the Midland echoes and they both danced through your veins. They teetered around the edges of that hole, leaning and pulling away as if to tempt the darkness to swallow them too. But nothing would get rid of those. Nothing would rid your body of their influence. Instead, you kicked those feelings into the gaping chasm in your soul and kept your eyes forward.

There was another man in the room, sitting in a desk chair. Even though his body was angled away from you, you could tell the man was completely naked. Your brows furrowed as to why that would be what Frank chose to do but you shrugged it off as some form of power play, a means of embarrassment and belittlement maybe. Either way, it didn’t change what you came for.

You tucked your gun away and snuck deeper into the room, listening in on their conversation while you thought about when to announce yourself.

“Hey.” He spoke desperately from the chair, dripping water - or maybe sweat - while Frank was unamused. “I’m the only friend you have, Frank.”

At that you laughed and the entire room fell silent.

“What the hell was that?” Frank muttered, turning towards the direction of your sound.

You cursed quietly and crept back into the dark hall. You looked around for somewhere to hide and saw that there was a series of open rafters on the ceiling. With a satisfied smirk, you hauled yourself up and tucked your feet just as Frank had come into the hall.

“I’m the only friend you have, Frank!” Micro tried again and you turned to face him, though you also tracked Frank’s steps. “Hey!”

“Where are you?” Frank said to himself as he stood beneath you.

You focused on the man in the chair and found he wasn’t necessarily afraid, not at that moment at least. He was concerned that Frank wouldn’t believe him, that Frank would kill him. You wondered what he really expected when he chose to instigate the Punisher but you shrugged it off to the male ego. He also felt desperate, that he needed his help more than anything. And while you knew deep down that you shouldn’t get involved, that you needed to keep some distance from vigilantism and fights so you could heal, you felt no necessity to stay away. Plus it was interesting.

“What are you looking for?” Micro shouted, drawing Frank back into the main room. “If someone was coming, Frank, who would it be?”

“You’d be surprised the shit she can get into.” Frank answered vaguely and you tilted your head in agreement. 

“She? Who’s she?”

“You know all this shit about me but you don’t know her?” Frank chuckled. “C’mon man.”

“Like her her? Like Exodus her?”

“No, the Queen of England.”

“Holy shit..” Micro breathed and panicked in his chair. He jerked roughly to try and free himself from the restraints. “You’re joking, right? There’s- She can’t find you, right?”

“I’m thinking she already did.”

The sudden blaring of an alarm drew your attention. You looked over and saw a timer ticking down on the computer screen. You pulled your tech and tried to access it, to override it, but it was too complex for you to do within that time frame. You groaned inwardly while the boys went back and forth as to whether or not the threat that loomed after the timer was real or not. Frank finally turned the chair and Lieberman admitted - and showed - that it wasn’t explosives, but a video feed. If he didn’t enter the code, then that video would be broadcasted to various media outlets.

But that, you could block. You watched the man type in the code and utilize a retina scanner but then quickly got to work blocking any streaming opportunity from the cameras. They would still work and record, but the second someone tried to send that video out of the building, it would crash the whole system. You thought about sending something of your own, something just to toy with Lieberman and show him that he isn’t as smart or as sneaky as he thought, but their next argument caught your interest.

“How many times was Ahmad Zubair beaten?” Lieberman practically yelled.

“Shut your mouth.” Frank warned and the anger radiating off of him rivaled the heat in your own bones.

Could that have been what Madani was so interested in? What was her stake in Zubair’s life?

“How many times was this innocent man tortured? He was a good man! He was an honorable father. He was a cop.”

Frank’s hand wrapped around Lieberman’s throat and that’s when you decided to make yourself known.

“What are you gonna do, kill him?” You called with your familiar accent, stretching your legs to let your feet dangle over the edge. Your voice caught both of their attention and you offered a small smile and wave in return. “You owe me some answers.”

“How did you find me?” Lieberman asked in a panic, shifting in the chair.

“Your wife.” You shrugged. “Once I got inside, the cameras were easy enough to trace.”

“You were in my house?”

“Don’t kill him yet, Frank.” You tried, slipping out from your hiding place and moving to stand beside your friend. “He may prove useful.”

Frank turned to you without letting him go and his eyes darted back and forth between yours. The hard anger seemed to soften when he caught glimpse of whatever he was looking for and he slowly let him go. He backed away and you heard Lieberman muttering quiet thanks. You rolled your eyes slightly and patted Frank’s back before moving around the room.

“I knew you weren’t gonna kill me.” Lieberman announced, as if to provoke Frank some more.

“Does he ever stop talking?” You asked Frank.

“Not yet.” He muttered.

“I know people, alright? I’m an analyst. It’s my job.” Lieberman continued. “I knew you wouldn’t kill me because you’re a good man, Frank.”

“Knowing he’s a good man doesn’t mean you know him so I wouldn’t flaunt that as if it matters.” You commented simply. “And you definitely don’t know me.”

“No… No, I don’t.” He admitted. “But I will.”

“Ha! Daredevil didn’t even really know me so I wouldn’t get any hopes up…” You turned to Frank. “We should catch up.”

“Yeah, a lot goin’ on right now.” He gestured to the room around you. “She tell you?”

Without saying her name, you knew he meant Karen.

“Told me you were around.” You shrugged. “The rest was me.”

“Course it was.” He offered half a smile. “It’s good to see you, Princess.”

“Yeah, you too.” You returned the expression.

“How’s Red?”

You pressed your lips together and gave a small shake of your head, which only seemed to confirm whatever he saw in your face just a few moments before. You waved it off and ignored the pulse of heat at the back of your neck, tracing the outline of your tattoo. The memories of Midland began to flash, that deep opening threatening to swallow you alive, so you cleared your throat to try and clear the memories. You knew it would be obvious that something was wrong and it was directly related to Matt and Daredevil, but you’d never speak a word of it in front of David Lieberman.

“What does Homeland know about Zubair? Where did it happen?” You turned away from Frank, feeling that pound of emotions in your chest. It was bubbling from that hole, sending vibrations through your bones as it begged for release.

“Kandahar.” Frank answered instead. “Why?”

“Does Homeland have the video?” You asked.

“Yeah..”

“Son of a bitch…” You sighed and ran a hand down your face. “Explains that.”

“Explains what? What does Homeland have to do with anything?” Lieberman asked quickly.

“Frank.” You said instead. “Things are a lot bigger than you think. A lot of connecting pieces are falling in my lap… Let me help.”

Frank faced you for a moment and scanned your face again. He was looking for something, maybe the same thing and maybe something else. You didn’t care to ask. You let him look, let him find whatever it was he would find. He sighed and gestured you over. You moved across the room and he took your arm to pull you out of Lieberman’s eyesight.

“I see it in your eyes, Princess.. You’re not alright, are you?” Frank asked quietly.

“He’s dead.” You answered simply, but your voice felt drowned out by the explosions in your heart. “And I did nothing.”

He frowned slightly and pulled you in for a tight embrace.

That seemed to dull the heat as your eyes closed tightly and the tears threatened. You wrapped your arms around him and balled his shirt into your fists. You buried your face against him and he offered quiet, gentle consolations. All the running, the burying your pain and pretending it didn’t exist, all of it swelled into a pressure in your head that escaped as hot tears.

“I don’t wanna do this here.” You pulled away and wiped your sleeve across your eyes. “Not now.”

“Y/N..” He tried but you backed away slowly and he didn’t stop you.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You shook your head. “I’ve gotta go, alright? I’ll come back tomorrow.”

You had Billy pick you up from your apartment and you two drove to the cemetery together. You followed his lead to the headstone and you hadn’t expected to feel your heart sink. Knowing Frank was alive and in New York with a fake tombstone while Matt was dead under New York and no one was ever going to know, there was no tangible way to remember him other than whatever was left in your apartment, it felt like it could kick your heart down that bottomless pit.

The thought made you shiver and you felt Billy put an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his side.

“Happy birthday, Frank.” Curtis toasted.

“You alright?” He leaned down to ask and you simply nodded, your voice having been swallowed up. “It’s a good thing, getting a stone.”

“Yeah, figured he deserved a marker of some kind, right?” Curtis agreed, passing you the bottle of liquor.

You nodded in thanks and took a drink before passing it on to Billy.

“Frank would’ve hated this, this maudlin shit.” Billy said with a sad laugh. You stepped out from under his arm and took his hand instead, hooking the other one around his arm and leaning on his shoulder. “I wish he’d…”

Curtis leaned around you to see his friend’s face better but you couldn't take your eyes off the stone.

“Why didn’t he… Why didn’t he come to us, man?” Billy continued and you felt genuine regret through your conjoined hands. You wondered, if only for a moment, what would’ve been different had Billy been involved. Maybe it doesn’t go to trial, or maybe Billy’s the character witness rather than Schoonover. Maybe Nelson and Murdock doesn’t fall apart. Maybe you and Matt end up too busy with cases to investigate Midland. Or maybe you meet Billy at a time that you could’ve allowed yourself to feel something. You had to swallow the thoughts down, feeding them to the nagging emptiness.

“He didn’t have to be alone. We could’ve helped him.” Billy continued. 

“He didn’t want any help.” Curtis shrugged. “He wanted to kill every bastard who had a hand in it.”

“I miss him..”

“Me too.” You finally spoke.

“I could see it, before everything. He was finding it harder and harder to come back.”

“He said Kandahar was like nothing else.” Curtis agreed and your ears perked up, picking up your head from Billy’s shoulder. “He said the lines were blurred.”

“When did he say that?” Billy asked and his body language almost felt defensive.

Maybe he was there too.

“When he was over there.” Curtis answered after a short pause and you could tell he was lying. Frank had to have reached out to Curtis after the Kandahar incident, after Ahmad Zubair. “He called me, y’know, to shoot the shit. Said I was lucky not to be there.”

“Yeah..” Billy breathed but it was clear that he didn’t fully believe Curtis. At the same time, he had nothing to accuse his friend of. “You were.”

You all hung out at the gravesite a little while longer, sharing stories and memories of Frank. You told them about in the interrogation room, when you needed a witness and he alluded to Billy. The comment of “you’d like him too much” made Billy laugh. You even admitted that in the short time you knew him, Frank was one of your few real friends and you felt some guilt over his death. Both men assured you it wasn’t on you but that didn’t change anything in your own head.

On the ride back to your place, you decided to try and pry some information out of Billy.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked quietly, making it seem as if you were hesitant to ask.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” He answered simply. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I just wanted to ask about Kandahar.”

“Why you bringin’ it up?” He asked tightly, offering a sideways glance that practically screamed suspicion.

You gave half of a shrug and dropped your eyes to your lap, hoping to come off as nervous and uncertain.

“Hey.” He said gently, putting a hand on your leg as a silent apology.

“It’s just.. If Frank didn’t like it and you obviously didn’t like it all that much either, I feel like it was something bad.” You explained carefully, watching the inflections in your voice as you spoke. “Is there anything you can tell me about it?”

“We had orders.” Billy said simply, though his voice was gentle. Definitely one of the more gentler tones you’d heard from him, but he always spoke to you with a certain tenderness. Sometimes it made your stomach lurch, other times it felt safe. This time is was somewhere dangerously inbetween. “You know how that goes.. You don’t always like them or even agree with them but you can’t say shit in the moment.”

“Yeah, I get that.” You nodded, because you did. You knew that all too well. “It was that bad, huh?”

“I’d tell you more if I could but…”

“Classified.” You finished with a sigh. “I figured as much. I appreciate you telling me something though.”

“I think the later parts were the worst for Frankie.” Billy explained carefully, phrasing it as if it was his own assumption but you could tell there was something more knowing about it. “Some intel that didn’t exactly pan out, got us caught in an ambush, and it changed him. Changed the way he saw our unit. He ever mention that to you?”

You shook your head but you had to assume he was talking about the Zubair incident, maybe even the story his CO told on the stand. “All he told me was that it was usually off the books, or that was his impression at least, with all the secrets… But during the trial, Schoonover talked about a mission near the Hindu Kush. Frank didn’t agree, said it was an ambush, but he went anyway because orders are orders… Frank did what he did best and got every man out. I never got a chance to ask him about it but he wasn’t exactly all that talkative anyway.”

Billy gave a small chuckle and it broke up some of the tension in the car.

“He never was much of a chatter-box.” Billy smiled slightly.

“I guess that was your job, huh?” You teased and his smile grew a little wider. “Thank you, for being honest with me.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you if I don’t have to.”

“I appreciate that.” You nodded as he pulled up to your building. “It’d be nice if you could tell me a little more but I get it.”

“You are relentless.” He laughed, turning to face you with a soft expression. “With all your own secrets.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Your brows furrowed slightly and you felt the heat under your skin dampening and your stomach started to find its way into a small knot.

You hadn’t realized it until then but you had missed having someone look at you with admiration like that. Of course Matt had his own way of seeing you and he never hesitated to express just how much he loved you or wanted you, but something about seeing it in someone’s eyes felt different.

Maybe you were healing after all… The thought made you want to gag.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You laughed slightly and smacked his chest, which earned you nothing but a smile.

“How about this?” He offered, patting your leg before keeping his hand there. “There’s someone I may be able to introduce you to and if he likes you…”

“He’ll tell me anything I wanna know?” Your brows raised.

“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.” He chuckled. “Deal?”

“Hmm… I’ll break you yet, Mr. Russo.”

“Looking forward to it.” He smirked before you got out.

You rolled your eyes in amusement as you entered the building. You headed up to your place, checking your phone to see a text from Dex saying Homeland was going to keep the investigation of Wolf’s murder. It didn’t surprise you that they’d want to be the ones to figure out what happened to their own man, but it did leave interesting possibilities. Was the ranking agent only doing it to keep something quiet or were they a good agent? Were they doing it out of loyalty to their bureau and to Wolf or were they doing it for their own interest? But what would knowing Wolf’s attacker serve anyone? It was a lot to consider, but unfortunately not enough to keep your usual nightmare at bay.

The next day, you wore the vest under your shirt - one of Matt’s old Columbia shirts because it fit better over the protection than your own. You had a gun at your back and a knife at the side of your waistband. You thought about just taking the retractable that Billy gave you a while ago but it was shoved in the closet, wrapped up in your suit and still coated in blood. You didn’t think you could take seeing it, expecting a red-tinted mania to accompany it. So instead, with your weapons of choice, you hopped in your car and headed back over to Lieberman’s hidey-hole.

The tension in the room made your skin tingle and sent a shiver down your spine. You rubbed your hands on your arms to disperse the feeling and walked in to find the boys in one of the side rooms, Lieberman untied and dressed and Frank tense.

“I don’t do partners.” Frank said angrily and you made a face to yourself.

You sat beside him and propped an elbow on his shoulder, which earned you a small scowl. 

“How do you keep sneaking in here?” Lieberman asked in annoyance.

“There’s a blind spot in your cameras.” You explained simply. “Leads right up to an old service entrance that isn’t locked and you two are too busy bickering to hear me coming.”

“Blind spot.” He scoffed. “Really?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. “Anyway, did you turn off your little cameras?” You gestured vaguely to the ceiling.

“Yeah.. How did you know about them?”

You shrugged a shoulder and turned back to Frank.

“If you don’t do partners, what am I?” You asked with raised brows and he squinted his eyes as he looked at your face. “What?”

“You’re different today..” He said simply as he tried to piece together what changed.

“Okay?”

“What changed?”

“Nothing…”

“No, something’s different.”

“Nothing important.” You urged.

“Y/N.”

“Leave it alone, Frank.” You warned. “Now’s not the time.”

“Can we just-” Lieberman cut in and you looked at him with a slight glare. “Can we get back to what’s important?”

“And what exactly is that?” You humored him.

“We’ve all done things we would like to take back, but we can’t. We’re not the bad guys here, they are. Right?”

“Do we know who they are to begin with? Is that why Carson Wolf from Homeland is dead? Someone’s looking into Frank’s unit and I’m guessing it’s about the Kandahar incident. Wolf was part of the coverup for your death-” You pointed to Lieberman, who conceded with a small nod. “-and had to know about their off the books work. If you’re making Homeland your enemy, they’re not gonna back down. Not from a trio of ghost stories.”

“He means the guy who gave us the targets… Called him Agent Orange.” Frank explained carefully.

“That guy still around?” Your brows furrowed and Frank offered a shrug. Could that have been the person whose approval Billy needed before he told you anything?

“That night that my CO told you about during the case, that was the last one I ran with them. I should’ve killed Orange that night but.. Some of my guys pulled me off, said it was to protect me.”

“Who?”

Frank shook his head as if to say it wasn’t important.

“You could’ve ended it all that night.” Lieberman added. “You didn’t, and then they killed your family. You have to live with that.”

“Hey.” You said sharply and pointed a stern finger. “Watch your mouth or the next thing out of it is your tongue.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “This war you’re waging, Frank, it’s the U.S. government. It’s the CIA, and you just got rolled over by one spook zip-tied to an office chair.”

“Yeah, that’s a little embarrassing.” You muttered and Frank elbowed you in the ribs.

“I thought I needed you but you need me just as much.” Lieberman continued. “And now I’m starting to think we’ll need her too.”

“I think I have some connections that could be useful here.” You admitted. “I’ve made a few new friends since I last saw you, Frank. I already got in here twice without you guys knowing. You know I can hold my own.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Frank waved you off. “This isn’t gonna be like anything you’ve done before.”

“You don’t know any of the missions I ran before.” You shook your head. “You give me a team of three or four of my best, and we can take down an entire country’s government in twenty-four hours. I’m not afraid of this and I’m not afraid to die.”

“You’re only saying that cause Red di-”

“And you’re only doing this because your family.” You cut in firmly. “How is it different?”

“Just let her stay.” Lieberman offered. “She’s gonna do it anyway.”

“What about your friends?” Frank asked instead.

“Haven’t talked to them much since it happened...” You shrugged. “New job hasn’t put me on anything yet so it’s not like I’ll miss anything from there. Not leaving any kids or any family behind so..”

“Not even a boyfriend?” He tried, clearly trying to find anything to get you to reconsider.

You paused as you thought and Billy was the first thing that came to mind. But at the same time, Frank seemed to have already forgotten how stubborn you could be.

“No… Look, I didn’t leave you on that first rooftop. I didn’t leave you on that boat. I’m not leaving now.”

“I’m gonna regret this.” Frank groaned before nodding.

“Great.” Lieberman clapped his hands and stood. “I’ve spent months and months hacking every agency and their server.”

“How have they not caught you by now?” Your brows furrowed as you stood and followed him out of the room.

“I’m NSA. It’s my job.”

“Well I hacked into your stuff and you didn’t notice so..” You shrugged.

“You did what?”

“Nothing, continue.”

“Well… Okay, look, anything they can throw at us, right? Phone companies, police departments, it doesn’t matter, because I can throw it right back at them! I’ve been getting ready for you, Frank.”

“What does that mean?” Frank asked, though his worry for you was more pressing in his mind. You took a second to force it to the back of his mind and he shot you a glare as his focus suddenly changed, to which you shrugged innocently.

“What does that mean?” Lieberman repeated as if offended Frank would ask that, but it was a fair question. He hadn’t exactly said what he wanted Frank and got you for. “It means that every missile needs a guidance system. Without me, you’re just a blunt object.”

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?” You commented and Lieberman rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, go ahead. Blow me off. Go ahead!” He argued and the clatter drew your attention back.

You saw Frank doubled over, supporting himself against a nearby cabinet, so you hurried over to help him. His body language was tense like he wanted to push you off, but the concern in your eyes made him decide against it. Despite your cruelty, your growing neutrality, and overall lack of empathy in your day-to-day life, Frank Castle had a way of bringing back a more human nature. You scanned his body for injuries but saw nothing so it had to have been something systemic. He nodded slightly to say that he was okay but you didn’t leave his side.

Lieberman brought the desk chair over that he was tied to last you saw him but Frank waved him off. Lieberman tried insisting but you kicked the chair away, unintentionally hitting it against his knees but not apologizing for it. He put his hands up in surrender and gestured for you two to follow him back towards the computers. You sighed to yourself and began to lead Frank out.

“All that heroin was just financing for something else.” He explained when you two got closer. “Your operation Cerberus doesn’t exist. There’s no official record. There’s no congressional approval.”

“Yeah, it was off the books.” You answered simply. “We knew that already. Off the books usually equates to illegal so..”

“They turned you into a hitman, Frank.”

“There are worse things to be.” You shrugged.

“Look, I don’t care if we all trust each other. I don’t care to be blood brothers or any of that kids in a treehouse type shit. But right now, we want the same thing… So work with me.”

“One condition.” Frank said lowly, burning with his own anger. His own betrayal. It sparked something sadistically familiar in your chest.

“Yeah, anything.”

“They die.. Every single one of ‘em.” He turned up to you. “No trials.”

“I’m not the one that insists on the justice system.” You answered plainly.

“No bullshit.. They die.”

“Fine by me.” You shrugged.

After a moment’s thought, Lieberman answered.

“Yeah, I can live with that.”

[geminijade]

I Just Ordered the First Three Seasons of Westworld for This Fine Ass Man: Benjamin Barnes/Logan Delos 🥵🔥

[apara-dise-penguin]

BEN BARNES as BILLY RUSSO from the Netflix Serie: THE PUNISHER @blairwaldorfvibezzz

[billyrussoapologist]

In The Punisher season 1 episode 3, Billy Russo is reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. I know this is haha funny because Ben Barnes played Dorian Gray, but can we just take a second to recognize the foreshadowing? Dorian Gray keeps a secret portrait that displays his sins while he stays beautiful. Then he tries to wreck the portrait, and the images switch, so all his sins are visible on his face, which is now definitely not beautiful. Billy is beautiful until Frank drags his face through a mirror, and now his face shows scars that were caused by his sins. It’s simple yet clever, and I never really see it pointed out.

Also, in episode 1, Frank reads Moby Dick, which is about a guy so hellbent on revenge, he ends up destroying himself.

[iloveprettyboysblog]