#Krista dumont

[tuppencetrinkets]

Sorted caps from The Punisher, S 1-2

Jon Bernthal - Frank Castle - 30000

Amber Rose Revah - Dinah Madani - 24000

Ben Barnes - Billy Russo - 17700

Jason R. Moore - Curtis Hoyle - 3900

Ebon Moss-Bachrach - David Lieberman - 6600

Floriana Lima - Krista Dumont - 8600

Josh Stewat - John Pilgrim - 4500

Giorgia Whigham - Amy Bendix - 15000

Jaime Ray Newman - Sarah LIeberman - 2900

Michael Nathanson - Sam Stein - 3700

Deborah Ann Woll - Karen Page - 4400

Shohreh Aghdashloo - Farah Madani - 500

Alexa Davalos - Beth Quinn - 2000

This content is free for anyone to use or edit however you like; if you care to throw a dollar or two my way for time, effort, storage fees etc you are more than welcome to do so via my PAYPAL.  Please like or reblog this post if you have found it useful or are downloading the content within.  If you have any questions or you have any problems with the links or find any inconsistencies in the content, etc. please feel free to drop me a politely worded message via my ASKBOX (second icon from the top on my theme!

[henrywottonscane]

"We've talked about this. Be kind to yourself. Hang in there."

[pedro-reed]

Floriana Lima as Krista Dumont THE PUNISHER SEASON 2 (2019), created by Steve Lightfoot

[goorehaus]

diary of a wimpy kid style diagram

[distinguishedkryptonitecreator]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

Pairing: Ex Billy Russo x reader(mentioned), ft. Dinah Madani, Krista Dumont.

Series: The punisher.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: Even though you and Dinah weren't friends, you knew the same pain, maybe it wasn't so bad to share it after all.

Note: English is not my native language, so some words may not make sense, apologies in advance.

━━━━♡

"Can I bring you something? Water or tea?" the doctor asked as she closed the door behind you.

“Tea is fine for me,” you replied. She nodded in recognition and looked in Dinah's direction, whose eyes scanned the room suspiciously. “Yes, I'll have Whiskey.”

"Is that your preferred medicine, Agent Madani?" the doctor asked.

“Stop doctor, you called us, remember?”

The doctor seemed to notice the agent's growing discomfort and she apologized. You felt her eyes move over you, assessing you. “Sorry, it's custom, please take a seat.”

You sat next to Agent Madani. To tell the truth, you never thought you would find yourself in the same room with the last lover of the man you once loved. Karma or destiny? You didn't know.

“Nice color,” you pointed to her walls.

“Thank you very much,” she gave you a half-hearted smile before taking a seat in her surprisingly blue chair.

You and Madani looked at her in silence as the doctor seemed to gather her thoughts. Neither of you knew exactly why you were here, but a part of you felt as if the doctor knew something that you didn't. You had never exchanged more words than necessary with her, not even when you started supporting Mahoni with the investigation. Call it anxiety or intuition, but it was part of your job as a detective, and wrong or not, you had a feeling and you couldn't let it fade into thin air.

“I don't know how you live like this, without knowing if someone you arrested or convicted could return one day and became obsessed with you, blaming you for everything” a bitter expression settled on his face. “It's so easy to create that image in your head, even that becomes a reality that you do not want to happen”

No doubt you were more than familiar with the feeling Krista seemed to be describing. After everything that happened with Matt and Fisk, you couldn't even remember a day when your soul would rest without the need to wake up in the middle of the night with sweat drenching your face and the vision of tragic futures.

And unfortunately, like Dinah Madani, you had placed your trust in the wrong man. Against everything your heart was screaming at you, he had used you. He had kissed your cheek softly before pushing you into an abyss. Although maybe that was always Billy Russo and you never wanted to see him, and now that the blindfold has fallen from your eyes you have no choice but to accept reality.

“When Billy Russo escaped I didn't feel that way, and now all that overwhelms me. I was stupid, right?”

Both you and Dinah responded in the negative. You couldn't allow someone else to take responsibility for the actions of others. Not from Billy.

"Of course not, it's not your fault, Billy has always thought of himself, you're not guilty of that," you replied.

“She's right” .Dinah supported you. “but she escaped weeks ago. Because right now?.”

Dr. Dumont's eyes seemed to glaze over. She watched her shift uncomfortably in her seat before staring at them. “ I treated Billy for a long time, he had memory loss, mental, physical and emotional blackouts. You two, for example, how did he end up like this? Much of her anger was born from not having answers to those questions. And I'm afraid he's going to come back for them.”

Your heart raced at the mention of his name. Your mind stopped registering the words exchanged between the doctor and Dinah, beginning to navigate through a thick red haze.

For a long time you believed that you were capable of keeping your emotions at bay, and even forgetting. But that feeling of uncertainty that settled in your soul never left. You felt hurt, used, and assumed that something similar was happening to Madani, of course, each for her own reasons.

However, it was difficult for you to understand that the same man who had always been soft and gentle with you, who always seemed concerned about your well-being and who even seemed confident enough to tell you fragments of his harrowing past, was the same one who would have been complicit in the death of Frank's family and, above all, participated in a vile and dirty conspiracy.

Was he ever honest with you?

“You have been very quiet, detective. Is there something bothering you?” .Your eyes focused on Krista. You didn't know how much time you had spent thinking that you didn't realize that both women had their eyes on you.

Madani abandoned her drink next to your cup of tea on the center table and watched you carefully. You ran the palms of your hands over the fabric of your pants. “I met Billy in a cafe near Anvil's headquarters. To tell the truth, that day I was in over my head and all I wanted was to get some coffee.” - You squinted your eyes trying to remember the details. “I was so moody that when I bumped into him and spilled the coffee on him, I didn't even bother to apologize and left.”

A part of you clung to that day when you got upset with a stranger for something that was obviously an accident, yet he didn't seem upset at all, and had even apologized to you, claiming that he was busy on his cell phone, so he didn't. I had seen you. That day was not the only time they saw each other, later they continued meeting in different places and you even came to think that it could be more than a coincidence.

They soon decided to approach each other and strike up a normal conversation, go to a bar and maybe have a drink. After what seemed like a totally unexpected turn, they shared phones and made an appointment to see each other again. Nothing sexual ever happened with you.

They began to have a strange type of friendship that involved a slippery Billy Russo who spent most of his free time hanging out in your apartment and sitting on your couch while he waited for you to get home. A routine full of comfort that both had acquired. You had gotten used to Billy and he seemed quite content to share his time with you.

Or at least you thought so.

“The last time I saw him, I confronted him. I told him I knew everything,” you said sadly. This was the first time in a long time that you had talked about this with anyone other than Karen, Foggy, and Matt. “I looked him in the eyes, I asked him for the truth and the only thing he said was that he had done it for both of us. For our future together.”

Maybe you imagined it, but you thought you saw a kind of grimace on the doctor's face.

“ Believe me when I tell you that I never knew of your existence. If I had known, I would never have messed with him.”

Tears threatened to escape your eyes. You couldn't cry, especially in front of them, however, before being a detective and everything that entailed, you were also human. And in the last few months you could feel nothing but sadness, confusion and anger.

“ I know Dinah, I know it's not your fault. We were just pawns in a bigger game. And I know I'm going to sound a little hypocritical, but I can't help but feel guilty for everything, for what he did and what happened to him. It's like a damn disease.”

Dinah gave you a compassionate look. In reality, she more than anyone was able to understand the meaning behind your words, her two friends had been taken from her, she almost died from a gunshot to the head and to this day she is unable to rest easy knowing that Billy is somewhere. living place And after listening to you, after talking about everything, she finally felt liberated. It's difficult to explain it because she, like you, had been fighting for some time against demons that followed her wherever she wanted to go.

She gave you a sympathetic look and she walked over to you to take your hand.

“No matter what you think, you did the right thing, you trusted your judgment and your morals. Billy chose his path and trampled on everyone he considered an obstacle. None of us can continue carrying that burden for him, much less clinging to this stupid fear that only seems to feed him.”

You looked at her surprised, not knowing how to react.

“I know this seems like it won't end, but it will, we'll take care of it. He will not be able to change who we are and maybe just maybe, one day we will no longer remember this feeling.”

With glassy eyes you nodded and before Dinah could react, you gave her a hug. You felt drowned and lost for a moment, but she was right, you were brave and stubborn, not to mention that you had helped your friends bring down the empire of a powerful New York criminal.

You loved Billy but you weren't the kind of person who would accept injustice just because of that fact. It hurt and you felt a bitter pressure in your chest, but no one would ever be above justice and you wouldn't give in to the opposite. You had a strong moral compass and you had to cling to it fervently. You were just waiting for what Madani would have told you to happen. That you will ever forgive yourself for all those things you did and couldn't do, that you could finally get that man out of your heart and above all, that the fear would fade until there will be nothing left but the ashes of what some day was a passionate love.

It was about time.

“Do you know? I think I do want some whiskey.”

━━━━♡

[wearethherdrapes]

Krista Dumont girlie, what’re we doin???

[muutosarchive]

10 Krista please and thank you.

VERY  NSFW  GIF  PROMPTS!    / @prettytm

𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. the couch she sits on now occupied by her face, with her dark hair tossed over her shoulders.

some fluttering hair tickles along the woman's scarred spine, mouth open in a gasp. krista can hardly break a moan from the depths of her throat, as each hard thrust makes her rock against the plush of the sofa cushion below. the man grunting as he propels her forward.

his nails dig bloody crescents into her back to keep her pinned down, which is ultimately what causes urgent expression to tighten at the brow, when he increases his speed. "god, billy!" she shouts, eyes shutting as she revels in the pain of the act. "i need you."

[hangesdarling]

Hii,can I request headcanons for a psychiatrist hange zoe x insane reader

(Hope this fits your rules)

insane as you are — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader

SYNOPSIS. Your psychiatrist helped you escape the asylum.

CONTENT. blood, stabbing, angst, murder, inaccuracies (i can do smth worse than this, let's do that next time)

A/N. I shortcircuited writing this: Hange is insane too with an "I can fix her" syndrome. billy russo and krista dumont from the punisher s2 kinda inspired me to write it like this

"This is somewhat unoriginal of you. I was betting you'd come up with something better," Hange heaved a grunt, trying to keep the knife you drove through their shoulder in place. The gun you stole from the guard outside your door had four missing bullets, not even one caught you in the encounter—such a shame. Your eyes flicked over their slumped form against the wall. 

"Sorry for putting you in such a situation, Hans," you walked over and kissed their forehead. "I'll see you later, okay?" 

"Don't get killed on your way out."

 "Won't be."

-

It wasn't a great plan to begin with. Just because you were locked away in some cheap standard comic asylum doesn't mean all the guards are stupid. You weren't superhuman either so that's a far stretch of a difference from the escape stories you read about on your stay there. 

What irritated you the most was probably the bullet that gashed the surface of your cheek right when you couldn't afford to be bleeding out. 

It was rough. The guards put up a fight. Just a standard Tuesday night. 

You had to thank Hange for the lowered security, and failing machinery inside. Only then did escaping become possible with getting little to no injury. 

Once the red and blue lights of police cars zipped through the streets, you knew it was headed for the old, cheap asylum that housed you for at least five years. 

Snow drizzled outside, the night bluish with speckles of snowflakes falling. You caught one on your finger and almost laughed at yourself for wanting to cry. You forgot what snow felt like. The place treated you like a sewer rat with very little ventilation. You only had small, barred clerestory, and mud-colored bricks to gaze at in each waking moment. Even the sheets are bland. 

Only when Hange arrived in your life did you have the chance to see what was outside after such a long time. It's been a year since the asylum sent an overqualified psychiatrist in front of you and it brings a smile to your face at where you at now. 

The night was cold but you were warmed by the thick coat you stole from a stranger on your way out. You left the poor man bleeding on the pavement but thankfully not a speck splattered on the coat. It has such an expensive, natural color to be stained. 

You sat obscured on a rotting bench near the alleyway, waiting for your lover. Sure the proceedings may take longer than you'd like. They will be interrogated, after all. 

A few minutes and many strangers passed by after you spotted their familiar dark green coat. They turned on the next street and you soon followed. 

-

"They did such a half-assed job on this one. No wonder you're still bleeding," you complained, tearing the poorly wrapped bandage on Hange's shoulder. 

"Are you even surprised by such a degree of incompetence at this point?" Hange chuckled, taking a shot of brandy. You were straddled on their lap as you bandaged them properly.

"I guess not."

"We dodged a bullet back there, you know," Hange said, setting down their glass to place their hands on your hips. 

"What happened?" 

"They sent someone too curious for her own good. Almost had evidence against us. But we staged it well somehow."

A laugh escaped your lips, "We did not."

"I know," Hange laughed, showing you that broad, charming smile you love. "We need to get away in a week or so. We can't hide for long."

"I have some plans you might want to hear about."

"Go on. Shoot."

You took the bottle of brandy from the side table, not even bothering with the glass. You gulped the liquid down your throat, missing the burn of the alcohol. 

You set it back down and took Hange's face on yours which was already focused on you anyway.

"You sure about this?" you asked. 

"About what?"

"This thing we planned. Running away."

"We planned this long ago."

"But are you sure?"

"Yes."

A sigh, perhaps of relief, passed your lips. Then you smiled.

"You're insane, Dr. Zoë."

They grinned, squeezing your hips a bit, "Try me."

_

But good things don't last as much as you'd love them to. You were bound for destruction no matter how much you tried to keep your bloody hands to yourself.

 "Hey, baby, please," Hange called with a sigh, nursing the shallow gash in their arm as they kneeled in front of you. 

The bloody knife unfurled from your fists, clattering against the floor. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sobbed. Their hands tried to reach yours but you were afraid to touch them again. 

"I know you didn't mean it," Hange tried to soothe your sobs, brushing a tear from your cheek. 

"You should just call the police," you mumbled, hugging your knees. 

"I'm not doing that after we've been through," Hange said strongly. "Our flight will be in a few days."

"I don't want to hurt you again. I didn't mean to—" 

Hange sensed another burst of apology from you again. They cupped your face, forehead leaning against yours. 

"I know, Y/N, I know," they ran a hand through your hair. They gently tugged you to your feet and pulled you on the couch with them. 

"I thought it would be okay again," you said through tears, gaze falling down your hands with much hatred and disappointment. I thought I’d be okay again.

"It will be. Eventually. We don't have to rush anything."

Their small side hug warmed your heart and yet you still couldn't get around the fact that you're dangerous, even for Hange. Knowing that you can't even control that sort of impulse was a slap in the face. 

"Are you willing to give all of these up, everything you built?" you said slowly, fiddling with your hands. "For me?" 

They laced their hands around yours, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

"You know I will," Hange said softly. With a gentle sigh, they added, "We'll be okay."

"I'm not sure about the me part."

A humorless smile spread on your lips.

"I want you to be okay on your own terms," Hange can't help but crack a smile. "Damn, I can lose my license ten times over just by saying that."

You laughed, pushing your fear to the back of your mind this time. You kissed them, as gently as you could, as if they would fall apart in your hands. 

"I think I get what you mean."

Hange knew it wouldn't be easy. Only god knows how many times you'll turn up at their door with blood on your hands from people you don't remember or how many times they'll meet the end of your knife. But only Hange knew and understood your internal turmoil. The urge to just cut off your own hands rather than hurt them again. Hange found the gentleness built within your walls. It was fiery and stinging. It hurts to hold. But akin to the moth to a flame, Hange still held you closer and closer even if it felt like digging a knife deeper into their chest. They persevered even with all the awareness of the faults these situations present. They didn't spend years studying psychiatry only to wander from patient to patient, hoping some of the therapy would stick. They knew they could piece you together in some semblance of normal. And they knew you'd let them. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Five

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - some smutty content

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Just a handjob in a public place and Krista Dumont being an unprofessional bitch. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~3.9k

A/N : It’s the night of the gala and Billy and reader are actually going to spend some real time together (it only took five chapters 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who's still following along with this!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

The night of the gala came around a lot quicker than you wanted it to. Saying you were panicking at the thought of it all was something of an understatement; you even thought about cancelling but you and Billy hadn’t exchanged numbers and the thought of calling Anvil and leaving a message with his secretary seemed far too cruel.

You enlisted the help of Tammy to find an appropriate dress, though throughout the shopping process you had to put up with her jealous comments and her trying to dress you in something far more revealing than you wanted. But, in the end you found a forest green, long sleeved dress with a high neck that hugged your body enough to tease your curves without being so tight that it was uncomfortable. The only thing you weren’t sure about was the slit that ran up the left side of the skirt from ankle to thigh, but it was the only dress you had tried that didn’t make you uncomfortable.

Tammy managed to save you a second time when you realised that you had nothing but boots and sneakers, letting you borrow a pair of her Louboutin sandals. And, by the time you (or, rather Tammy) had curled your hair and put on some make-up, you felt like an entirely different person - you felt good, better than you had in a long time, almost like you really could be one of those women you’d seen hanging off Billy’s arm when you’d Googled him.

Between seven-thirty and eight you sat in silence, just watching the clock, anticipation and dread warring inside of you over what you were about to do. He’d said that your night together could be whatever you wanted it to be, but you still had no idea what you wanted.

When the knock at the door finally came, you felt your heart stutter.

And there he was; flowers in his hand and wearing a black tux that just screamed fuck me. You were lost for words but, luckily for you, so was Billy. Your cheeks warmed as he looked at you, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you from head to toe and, even though the dress left plenty to the imagination, you felt naked in front of him.

“These are for you,” he held out the bouquet to you, twenty-four roses, each flower a deep shade of red.

“You didn’t have to,” you answered as you took them, but you were so glad he had, “they’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just -” you glanced over your shoulder, “- I’ll just put them in some water.”

When you stepped back, Billy stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and following you towards the kitchen. At some point Tammy had made herself scarce, leaving you completely alone with Billy. You didn’t dare look back, you could hear him only a step behind you, and you knew if you turned that you weren’t going to make it to the gala. 

You stopped at the sink to fill a jug for the flowers, Billy’s hands appeared on either side of you, gripping the edge of the work surface, boxing you in. While the jug filled, you did your best to ignore him, but the sound of his heavy breathing had your heart fluttering. Once the roses were in the jug, you turned to face him, not expecting to see the hunger in his eyes, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Billy,” you said softly, “we’re going to be late.”

“I know.” He answered, but didn’t move, like he was stuck there, like something was holding him in place and he didn’t dare let go because he didn’t trust what he might do.

Slowly, cautiously, you lifted a hand to his face, gently touching his cheek. His expression softened and he seemed to relax a little. You had no idea what was going through his mind right then, but if his racing thoughts were anything like your own, then you wanted to help soothe him, help calm him down.

“We’ve got all night,” you reminded him.

There was no need to rush; you could savour your night together, take your time. He looked at you, knuckles turning white as his fingers gripped harder, his shoulder ticking upwards. Your thumb softly brushed against his cheek and you smiled at him.

“Okay,” he finally relented with an awkward exhale. A second later, he released his grip on the counter and offered you his hand. You took it without hesitation. “C’mon, Karen and Frank are probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait - why?” You asked as he led you back towards the door, stopping for a moment so you could grab your coat and bag from the back of the sofa. 

“They’re in the limo -”

“Limo?”

Billy didn’t answer, he just laughed, keeping hold of your hand as you tried to navigate the stairs from the third floor while wearing Tammy’s shoes.

And, just as he said, there was a limo parked in front of your apartment building, the back door already open with Karen half hanging out. She climbed out to meet you, wearing a red silk gown that made you feel underdressed.

“Oh my god, you look amazing.” She said, moving toward you and pulling you into an unexpected hug. Billy’s hand kept hold of yours, tensing ever so slightly.

“So do you, I mean - wow.” 

“Are we going or what?” A voice called from the limo. Frank. 

“Told you he hates these things,” Karen laughed as she turned and headed back towards the limo.

A few minutes later you were all in the limo, on your way to the gala. Billy pulled out a bottle of champagne and started filling glasses, but his attention never strayed from you for long.

“So how did Bill manage to convince a girl like you to go out with him?” Frank asked. 

“He wore me down with his constant begging,” you answered, nudging Billy with your elbow.

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Karen asked before Billy could jump in and say something clever.

You told them the story, leaving out the awkward kiss, and going to great efforts to paint Billy as a gentleman. As you spoke, you felt his fingers over yours on your lap, like he was trying to silently thank you for not making him look like a creep in front of his friends.

The drive didn’t take long, you barely had time to finish your second glass of champagne, but by the time you arrived you could tell Billy was itching to get out of the limo and away from all the little questions about the two of you. It didn’t occur to you until later why that was; his friends were trying to get to know you as a couple but you and Billy both knew that there was an expiry date on whatever this thing between you was. You’d have your one night, then he’d be left to explain to his friends why it didn’t work out.

Flashing lights by the door caused you to pause, Frank and Karen carried on oblivious, but Billy had his hand in yours and noticed the second you started to falter.

“What’s wrong?” Concern quickly filling his tone.

“It’s stupid, I just - I don’t want my picture taken.” You didn’t want to be some woman on a Google search when the next person looked Billy up. You didn’t want anyone to know you were there; at the gala or in New York.

He looked ready to argue, to tell you it was just a photo, or give you some line about how you looked, but he didn’t. In one look at you, Billy seemed to understand how uncomfortable you were.

“I can get us in a side entrance.” 

“That’s not - you should go get your photo taken. It’ll be good for -”

“I’m not here to get my picture in the papers or on some shitty blog, I’m here to spend time with you.” He didn’t waste anymore time on the matter, and neither did you, following after as he took you to a side door and got some of the staff working the event to let you in.

Once you were inside, you dropped your coat off at the coat check and you and Billy found your designated table in the massive, ornate ballroom. Karen and Frank were already there, talking to another man who Billy introduced as Curtis; the one who helped run most of Anvil’s charity work. A few more of their friends turned up - mostly ex-Marines like Frank and Billy - and, soon enough, you were sitting back and watching Billy and his friends. And, again, his hand found yours, lacing his fingers through yours, holding you tight as he continued to laugh with his buddies. No one else seemed to notice and that seemed to suit Billy just fine; he didn’t want to make a spectacle of it, he just wanted to touch you.

Food was served and speeches were made, and eventually people started to move towards the dancefloor, slow dancing along to the music. And it was nice, despite your reservations, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest and, once you’d started to get familiar with Billy’s friends, you were able to hold whole conversations with them, some involving Billy and some not, but his hand always found yours again.

Eventually Karen managed to drag Frank onto the dancefloor and Billy’s other friends started to disperse. Billy saw someone he recognised across the room, someone that he needed to quickly talk to but, rather than going with him, you decided that you were going to head to the bar and get yourself a drink - something that he grudgingly went along with, if only because he seemed to realise just how overwhelming it was for you to meet all these people who knew him.

Once at the bar, you felt a little better, like you could take in what was going on around you without feeling like you were stuck in the middle of it all. You couldn’t see Billy, but you did manage to catch sight of Frank and Karen on the dancefloor enjoying themselves, and you found yourself wondering if Billy liked to dance.

“You should be careful with William,” a voice at your side sounded over the music, pulling you from your thoughts. It took you a moment to realise that she was talking to you and that by William she meant Billy.

“Sorry?” 

“William, he’s dangerous,” she told you, “men with his kind of trauma tend to exhibit emotional dysregulation and can become quite violent.”

“I don’t - who are you?” And just what was she trying to tell you.

“I’m just someone who’s concerned for your safety.” Like that answered anything. She didn’t seem to care what you thought about anything she was saying or the confusion on your face, she just carried on like you’d asked for her opinion on any of it. “His abandonment issues mean that he’s also prone to obsession and paranoia when it comes to those who get close to him.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re -” 

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“That’s none of your -” but, still, she didn’t seem to care about what you had to say.

“His hypersexuality tends to manifest itself in deviant behaviour, so if you plan on sleeping with him tonight -”

“Don’t you have anyone else to bother, Krista?” Karen was suddenly at your side, glaring at the other woman. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen her so annoyed at someone, but if this Krista cared about Karen’s anger, she didn’t let it show.

“I was just offering a friendly warning,” she answered, though her eyes stayed fixed on you. 

“The only one who needs a warning here is you, so why don’t you crawl back under your rock and leave Billy alone.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, confused and concerned, not really sure what was going on. Krista looked ready to say something else but when she noticed Frank was walking towards you, she simply gave a shrug and walked away.

“You alright?” Asked Frank, his attention on Karen while you sank back against the bar, feeling very out of place.

“Fine, just dealing with the psycho-bitch,” she answered him before both of them turned their attention to you.

“Who was she?” You dared to ask, even though you weren’t really sure you wanted to hear the answer. “And why did she say Billy’s dangerous?”

“She’s his ex,” Frank offered.

“And because she’s a fucking psycho who refuses to move on.” Karen added. “She got it in her head that she could fix Billy, she spent months trying to take him apart and put him back together again how she wanted him to be.”

“But why?” You didn’t want to know but you felt like you needed to. If there was any chance that this Krista was right about Billy, you needed to know. Nothing about him had ever seemed dangerous, but you knew from experience that the people who could hurt you the most were usually the ones you least expected.

“She was his shrink,” Frank explained reluctantly, obviously feeling as uncomfortable in all of this as you. “It was a few years before they started dating, he got hurt, and she started getting in his head. And, when they got together she used everything she knew about him to -”

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Karen interrupted, placing a hand on your arm. “She wanted him to be broken so she could be the one to save him. She’s a psycho with a god-complex.”

A jealous, psycho ex; that was something you could understand better than most and, if anything, she’d made you want to spend this night with Billy even more, because you knew exactly what it was like to have people only see the absolute worst in you. And you definitely knew what it was like to have an ex drag your name through the dirt. Besides, it was just one night. What was the worst that could happen in one night? 

“Bill’s like a brother to me,” Frank stated, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts, “but if I thought he was a danger to anyone I never would’ve let him bring you here tonight.” Despite not knowing Frank very well, there was something about the way he spoke, about the way Karen looked at him that told you it was the truth. You nodded, feeling a little better. “Just maybe don’t mention any of this to Bill.”

“Don’t mention what to me?” He appeared over Frank’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear when his eyes found yours. And, somehow, when he looked at you, you just knew; Billy Russo wasn’t a danger, at least not to you.

“I was just telling Frank that I wanted to dance,” you answered before anyone else had the chance, “he told me I’d have to mind my feet because you’re a terrible dancer.”

“Please, Frankie’s just jealous he doesn’t have moves like mine,” he practically shoved his friend out of the way so he could get to you, offering his hand. “C’mon, I’ll show you how wrong he is.”

The moment your hand was in his, Billy was leading you on to the dancefloor and pulling you close. His arms wrapped around your waist, hands settling on your lower-lower back, perhaps a little lower than was decent, but you didn’t care. Your hands found his shoulders and, before long your head was resting against his chest and every breath you took was him; his warmth, his cologne and the clean smell of his suit. It all felt perfect. For a moment you felt him move and you were almost certain that he smelled your hair, but you didn’t move to look or confirm anything; you didn’t care.

One song finished and another started, then another, and another. And you were content to stay there, in his arms, moving in time with the music. 

“How am I doing?” he asked softly and you realised that it was probably the longest you’d ever known him to stay quiet.

“Definitely proving Frank wrong,” you answered.

And, then, silence again.

At some point your hand shifted on his shoulder, moving up towards his neck, your fingers lightly curling the hair at the nape of his neck. His arms pulled a little tighter around you and, for a moment you thought you could feel the outline of his cock against your thigh. You kept dancing, your other hand soon moving to his neck.

After what felt like a lifetime - a wonderful lifetime - you raised your head, wanting to look at him. Or, more precisely, wanting him to look at you. Your knees turned weak as he stared down at you, tongue running across your lips as you tilted your head just a little, and Billy leaned, his lips almost meeting yours.

Then you were moving, your hand gripped tight in his as he led you away from the dancefloor and out of the ballroom. Soon enough, you found yourself in an empty hallway, the music fading to a near-nothingness in the background, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your heart hammering in your chest. Billy looked like a man possessed as he finally turned to you, his hand finding your hip and leading you back against the nearest wall.

“I've been wanting to get you on your own all night, sweetheart,” he muttered softly, sounding barely restrained. “I wanted to let you enjoy the party, but I can't do it anymore. I need to have you all to myself.”

“I wondered why you'd been so quiet,” you smiled at him, your hand finding his cheek.

“You make me feel like I'm losing my damned mind...” his dark eyes fixed on yours, sparking with desperation, “I don't wanna share you with anyone else anymore.”

“You don't have to,” you breathed, sinking closer to him.

The way he looked at you in that moment had your heart pounding. He wanted you. Billy Russo wanted you.

Finally, he kissed you, leaving no space between your bodies. It was a hungry kiss, his tongue laying siege to your mouth as he tried to get his fill of you. Your arms made their way around his waist, pulling him closer, holding him tight. Again, you felt something pressed against your stomach, and this time there was no question about it; Billy was hard. He’d been hard while you were dancing together. (He was hard for you.)

A moan passed between your lips, though there was no telling if it had come from you or Billy. He dominated the kiss, reminding you of the party, how he’d pressed you back against the bathroom door and kissed you just like that. But you needed more, and judging from the way he was pressed against you, so did Billy. 

If it was only going to be one night, you needed everything.

You didn’t even think as your hand slipped between your bodies to cup his bulge through the fabric of his pants. The groan that came next was definitely from Billy, and if he had any issues with you groping him in such a public place, he kept them to himself. In fact, his hips soon moved to press himself against your hand while his own hands remained useless at your waist. There was nothing he could do while you were still wearing your long gown and that put you at an advantage, an advantage you wanted to make the most of.

Fingers pulled eagerly at his belt, then the button and, finally, the zipper. And, all the while, he kissed you, not wanting any of it to stop. By the time you had his cock in your hand you’d almost completely forgotten where you were, and nothing but Billy mattered.

His hand covered yours, molding your fingers around his cock, dragging your hand up and down his length, showing you what he wanted. Then he released you, leaving you to run your hand from root to tip, exploring the feel of him and the weight of him in your hand. His cock turned thicker the harder he got, leaving you imagining the way he’d stretch you if he fucked you. (When, you corrected, when he fucked you. Because once you had him in your hand you knew there was no turning back.)

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, obviously enjoying what you were doing and it just made you want to do more, it made you want to pull every desperate sound you could from him.

Your hand wrung around him, brushing across the crown, thumb tracing the slit until it started to leak with beads of pre-cum. You spread the wetness across his tip before continuing to drag your hand along him, all the while doing what you could to swallow Billy’s eager moans. Your grip tightened, feeling bolder as your hand stroked up and down, loving the way his cock strained in your grasp. More beads of pre-cum formed and every time you felt them against your thumb, you found yourself longing for a taste.

Groaning your name against your lips was all the warning he managed to give you before he started to pulse in your hand, coming undone with a barely restrained grunt, and letting his head fall back. You managed to angle him away from you in time to save your dress, but your hand was soon covered while it continued to pump his shaft, making sure you wrung every ounce of pleasure from him and making a sticky mess of the both of you.

When he was finally done and you were both left panting, you pulled back your hand and looked at it for a second, oddly proud of yourself. You couldn’t resist lifting to your lips, licking his cum from one of your fingers, finally getting a taste of him. Before you got the idea to clean the rest of your hand, Billy’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, urging your hand away from your mouth.

“If you don’t want me to tear that dress off you, you should stop doing that.” Billy warned while his other hand fished a handkerchief from his pocket. You almost wanted to tempt fate and see just what he’d do but you didn’t want to risk getting caught there more than you already had. Billy wiped himself clean, before cleaning your hand and setting his clothes to rights.

“We’re going.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, he didn’t even give you time to answer before taking hold of your hand and leading you back towards the party. His grip didn’t loosen as he led you through the crowd and towards the coat claim, slowing only momentarily to call his driver to tell him to pull the car around. You followed after, staying as close to him as you could; you were his for the night and the thought of any distance between you just seemed insane. He let go of your hand only momentarily, to help you slip your coat on and, before you knew it, he was eagerly leading you outside.

Billy waved off the driver as he moved to open the door, leaving Billy to open it and bundle you inside. He wasted no time sliding in beside you and closing the door, finally getting you all alone. Before you could even think about getting comfortable, he pulled you onto his lap, hands pushing the fabric of your dress up your thighs so you could comfortably straddle him and helping you shrug out of your coat.

The limo shuddered to a start and Billy’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, secure. 

His.

(At least, his for the night.)

Chapter Six

END NOTES : I really enjoyed writing this part, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Thanks for sticking with this and thanks for all the likes! If you want adding to the tag list drop me a comment (I think it's working properly???). The next part should be up same time next week and, from the looks of it, it's going to be pretty long.

Anyway, thanks for reading and have a great day!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

[elen-tari2]

I am hitting the skip forward 10 seconds button multiple times to get through their scenes. It’s so cringey, it’s almost unwatchable. (The acting was fine, this is entirely about the script).

The whole Krista x Billy subplot

[lesbians4armand]

the punisher s2 except instead of Krista Dumont, Billy’s psychiatrist is (cillian’s) Dr Jonathan Crane. Still as unethical and sadomasochistic, but gay.

[dear-indies]

hi! it would mean a lot if you could help me with a faceclaim. if not, that’s completely fine with me and i more than understand!

i was originally thinking of using krista keehus, but after looking up her tumblr page (which is easy to access and find, just look up her name and look at blogs i think it’s either the first or second one. it’s her name and has plenty of problematic post) i do not agree with anything she has ever said on there and i would also like to tell people who are also thinking of using her, that she is just a very good person. though, i can’t tell people to stop using her if they truly want to - i just know i will not be using her.

regardless of that, i am looking for a faceclaim who could possibly work against chris motionless. (preferably someone who has a gothic and/or alternative look). though, the kicker would probably be that i would prefer for the person to have plenty of recourses. the doesn’t faceclaim doesn’t necessarily have to be someone in the music scene, but that’s fine with me - especially if they have plenty of recourses lol. i’m looking for someone around the ages of 26-34 years old, no one older than 36 preferably.

Juliana Huxtable (1987) African-American - is a trans woman - has spoken up for Palestine!

FKA twigs (1988) African-Jamaican / White, possibly Egyptian.

Ritu Arya (1988) Indian - vibes in Polite Society and The Umbrella Academy.

Úrsula Corberó (1989) - vibes in Money Heist and Snake Eyes.

JuJu Chan (1989) Hongkonger - vibes in Wu Assassins and Fistful of Vengeance.

Chantal Thuy (1990) Vietnamese - vibes in Black Lightning.

Damaris Lewis (1990) Afro-Kittian - vibes in Titans.

Rina Sawayama (1990) Japanese - is bisexual and pansexual.

Seychelle Gabriel (1991) French, Mexican / White - vibes in Blood Fest - has spoken up for Sudan and Palestine!

Hari Nef (1992) Ashkenazi Jewish - is a trans woman - has spoken up for Palestine!

Devery Jacobs (1993) Mohawk - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Shotzi Blackheart (1992) Filipino and White.

Emma Dumont (1994) - vibes in The Gifted.

Lily Sullivan (1994) - vibes in Evil Dead Rise.

Lina Ahn (1994) Korean.

Adeline Rudolph (1995) Korean / German - vibes in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and Resident Evil.

Juliette Motamed (1995) Iranian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Emma Mackey (1996) - vibes in Sex Education.

Jazzelle / Jazzeppi Zanaughtti (1995) African-American - has spoken up for Palestine!

Ruth Codd (1996) - is an amputee.

Rhea Ripley (1996)

Tati Gabrielle (1996) African-American, ¼ Korean - vibes in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and Uncharted.

Kiana Ledé (1997) African-American, Swedish, Mexican, Cherokee - has spoken up for Palestine!

No resources but has the vibe:

Ruby Soho (1991)

Zheani (1993)

Slick Woods (1993) African-American.

Dani Miller (1994)

Luara Reisinger (1994) Brazilian.

Coty Camacho (1995) Mixtec and Zapotec - is pansexual.

Mei Pang (1996) Malaysian-Chinese.

Hope this helps!

[monsoonmuses]

Indie very selective mutuals only multi-muse featuring Frank Castle, Dinah Madani, Sam Stein & Krista Dumont. Written by Vespertine. 18+.

>>>> rules // muses

>>>> Promo Template.

[agentstarkid]

If Krista Dumont has a million haters I’m one of them. If she has 1000 haters I’m one of them. If she has 1 hater it’s me. If she has 0 haters it means I have left this world. If the world is against Krista I am with the world, if the world is for Krista, I am against the world 😡😤

[schmidtho]

from the bottom of my heart fuck billy russo but. man krista dumont is just like me fr bc if a violent dangerous unhinged mentally unwell criminal thought i was the only person they could trust and was hot for me…… yeah. i’d do the same as her

[djarinbabysnotes]

Send this man to the 18th Century and he WILL be the first male candidate to be treated for girlhood hysteria. The history books will shift. This is a man in need of not only an intervention to go to rehab for his insane need of fuelling his savior complex, but he also needs an exorcism ABOVE ALL THINGS. Put him in a psych ward and he will be clawing at the walls like an unhinged bug planning it's escape WHILE carrying a parasite (his inner demons or catholic guilt? or is it all just the same? stay tuned!)

In all seriousness, this man is UNWELL. He is unstable in literally all aspects of his life, borderline jobless if you count the times he has missed/been late to a trial because he likes to fuck around and find out, kind of a cheater but mostly just a whore, emotionally unavailable and yet he regularly exercises his need to be a slut for the female population, has a complicated relationship with his *reads notes* everyone, always assumes that he has to be the smartest in every room because *cough* testosterone and daddy issues... The list goes on.

And even then, does that stop me from BIBLICALLY, RELIGIOUSLY wanting him? Absolutely not. We can literally be sick in the head together. We can be worse than krista dumont and billy russo because i highly believe in the words of a great modern poet named taylor swift when she said "I can fix him (no really I can)"

The only thing stable about this man is getting a regular haircut and a cunty attitude.

i feel like all the mcu fans who haven't watched the daredevil show seem to think that he's just. a fucking mentally stable dude? a badass vigilante who is definitely not fucked up in the head? and i cannot stress how incorrect that is /aff

you. yes, you, the mcu fanfic writer who thinks that matthew micheal murdock has his shit together. i am grabbing you by the shoulders. you see that smile of his? that cocky little lawyer smirk that says, "i am so put together and sexy and my life is great"?

this one? it's a fucking lie (minus the sexy part)

underneath that suit he has 12 fractured ribs 7 punctured lungs 18 ruptured spleens, he's mentally straining under the weight of his enormous catholic guilt, he's ghosting 15 nurses who genuinely just don't want him to fucking die, he's in love with his best friend, he has 9 court cases the next day, he hasn't slept in 378 hours, he's running on 26 solid cups of coffee and cheap chinese takeout, he's hallucinating his dead dad, and he's probably debating murder and/or sewerslide.

this man may be an absolute slut, manboss manwhore murdock if you will, but do NOT mistake him for someone with his shit together. please, for the love of god. if he has his shit together in the new daredevil show coming out this year, i will genuinely be shocked.

this post has been brought to you by Dear God, Give My Favorite Blorbo His Fucking Horrors