#the punisher au

[e-dubbc11]

Summer Sleepover request 😊

How about a tiny reader drabble based on

'Can I kill him now?'

with Brock and Frank, whatever way around takes your fancy!

Thank you! 😘

Stef!! Thank you so so much for sending in this ask and participating in my summer sleepover! I hope you like what I ended up doing. It was fun to write! ♥️

Can I Buy You a Drink?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader with Bartender! Frank Castle

Warnings: Couple of sexual references, maybe a swear word or two, SHIELD agent being a creep, fluff, drinking.

Word Count: 1.9K-ish

Summary: Reader works in a bar with Frank that he owns and manages. A very handsome SHIELD agent and the rest of his team come in for a drink after a long training session at Anvil.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The strong scent of citrus floated past your nose as you removed all of the glasses from the dishwasher. Frank was on the other side of you cutting up fresh limes, prepping for the Friday after work crowd that usually poured into the bar around three o’clock.

The beer glasses went into the freezer and the remaining glassware was placed on the shelves although most of your clientele stuck to beer. The Watering Hole wasn’t exactly an upscale place with its old neon signs, dim lighting, and dated décor but it was a fun place to work.

It was small and didn’t require a lot of staff or actual bartending skills which was good for you because you didn’t have any, you just needed a job. And even though it was a small place, it brought in a decent amount of money.

The tips you made, Frank let you keep all of them. He was a great boss, owned the bar, and he looked out for you. The bar was your second job and with the money you brought home, you were able to live comfortably and get back on your feet after a bad breakup with an ex who left you with nothing. You promised yourself you wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Bill said he was sending some people over after their training today. He said they were just looking for a place to grab a couple beers. They’re in town from D.C.” Said Frank.

A look of disgust washed over your face.

“Ugh, they’re not politicians, are they Frank? Because I don’t know that I wanna deal with that tonight.” You replied.

Draping a dish towel over his shoulder, Frank chuckled as he continued to cut up limes and said, “Nah, they’re not politicians, sweetheart. Bill said they’re from a group called SHIELD.”

“Ooooh, well that sounds very clandestine, doesn’t it?” You asked, biting back a smile. “Did Billy say around what time they would be in?”

A few of your regulars were already there but as soon as the words escaped your lips, the door opened and in walked a bunch of men and a few women with their suit jackets off, ties undone, and looking pretty worn out from their training day at Anvil with Billy.

Frank glanced at you with raised eyebrows, moved closer to you, and said, “This must be them, go get ‘em kid. Bat those pretty eyes at ‘em and bring us some money, yeah? I’d do it but I don’t have pretty eyes.”

That made you laugh and when you did, you caught the eye of one of the men in the pack with dark brown hair and amber colored eyes. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was balled up in his hand. He was very handsome but had a scowl on his face, lips pressed together in a straight line and a furrowed brow.

You were a little shy when it came to larger crowds of people but you sucked it up and walked over, ready to make some money.

“Afternoon everyone! Thank you for coming in today, I’m y/n. What can I get for you?” You paused for a minute and then asked, “Oh, I’m assuming Billy told you what the deal is here? Yeah? Beer and liquor only. Cash tips, you got it?!”

“Yes ma’am.” Said the handsome man. He also had a raspy voice which was incredibly sexy.

Dammit.

You walked back to the bar after taking their order. While prepping their drinks, you glanced over again at your crush and you heard one of them say to him, “She’s hot, huh Rumlow?! I’ll give her a good tip.” He said as he hi-fived one of the other guys in the group.

“You’re such a pig, Rollins.” Said one of the women.

Frank was helping you when he said, “He’s got his eye on you, doesn’t he.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“Well, all of them actually but the older guy with the dark hair. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he walked in here, ya know.” Said Frank.

“He can’t be that old, Frank. Have you seen him? He’s in really good shape. And I ain’t no spring chicken either.” You said.

“Watchful eye, sweetheart. Watchful eye. You know I’m ready if you need backup.” Frank said with a smirk.

It did get a little rowdy at times but you could handle it for the most part. Frank was great backup though. He had a reputation around town. They called him “The Punisher” because of what he would do to out of control patrons and he made sure they never caused trouble in his bar again. Frank didn’t need to hire any bouncers; he was his own.

Watching from behind the bar, you noticed that this group could drink. It was round after round of beer and shots with the exception of the one they called Rumlow.

He was drinking but not nearly as much as the others and none of them were drinking more than the one named Rollins.

You and Frank were talking and cleaning when Rumlow started walking toward the bar.

“Lemme know if you need the bat, yeah?” Said Frank with a sly grin.

Shaking your head, you glared at him. He knew you could handle yourself. You couldn’t work for an ex-marine and NOT know a thing or two on how to take care of business.

Your heart started to beat faster as Rumlow approached the bar. Warmth spread across your cheeks and you glanced down at the floor so he wouldn’t see you blushing. He hadn’t even spoken to you yet and he had your stomach in knots.

Rollins was making a lot of drunken noises so Rumlow had to speak loudly for you to hear him.

“Hey, sorry about Jack. We all had a long day. I’m Brock, by the way.” He said, extending his hand for you to shake.

Slowly reaching forward, you took his hand to shake it. His thick fingers wrapped around your hand and you could feel the calluses on his palm as you couldn’t help but gaze into his golden colored eyes.

The warmth from his hand traveled quickly up your arm and spread across your chest and you felt yourself struggling to figure out how to respond.

You were finally able to arrange the words you wanted to say in your head before they fell out of your mouth.

“It’s ok, we all need to blow off steam after a long day. It’s nice to meet you, Brock.” You said with a shy smile. “Can I get you another beer?”

“Thank you, sweetheart. That would be great.” He replied.

You were sure he wasn’t aware of the face he was making, but Frank’s eyes were narrowed and he had pressed his lips together in a straight line as his eyes were fixated on Brock, not knowing exactly what his intentions were.

Frank knew how hard you worked every day to be able to provide for yourself. The last thing he wanted was some guy showing up and taking advantage of how sweet and kind you were, giving men more chances than they deserved like the last guy that broke your heart.

He just wanted to see you with someone nice for a change which is why he was carefully checking out Brock.

After pouring a beer for Brock, you told Frank you needed a bathroom break and you’d be back in a minute. You encountered Rollins in the hallway after emerging from the bathroom.

“H-hey! Th-there she is! I-I was j-just coming to tell youuuuu that I could use another beeeeeer.” He said sloppily.

“You might have reached your limit there, big guy.” You tried to say with a smile.

Rollins had stepped in front of you, not letting you pass by him.

“Excuse me, Jack. I have to get back to work.” You said with a trembling voice.

With the strong scent of beer and liquor on his breath, he had pinned you against the wall with his lower body and growled into your ear, “I don’t have any cash, pretty girl but you can take your tip from my tip if ya know what I mean.”

Jack was tall and heavy so it was difficult to try and push him off of you. His words chilled you to the bone, you were frozen in place, and couldn’t reach the knife in your back pocket.

“Let me go, Jack.” You said, coldly.

Jack continued to press into you with his crotch while you frantically kept looking down the hallway for someone to help. He was just too strong for you.

Just as you started to panic slightly, you heard a deep booming voice coming from the other end of the hallway.

“HEY!! Take your hands off of her, Rollins!” Shouted Frank.

Frank distracted Jack just long enough for you to push him away and retrieve your knife from your back pocket all in one swift motion.

Holding the knife down by his crotch, you whispered with a devilish grin on your face, “Don’t make any sudden movements, Jack. You wouldn’t want me to cut it off now, would ya?”

Brock appeared at the end of the hallway and stood next to Frank. They looked at each other, thoroughly impressed with your knife wielding skills and they both gave you a nod of approval before Frank walked toward you, grabbed Jack by the collar, and asked “Can I kill him now?”

Brock answered with bitterness in his tone before you could.

“Let me do it. It should be me.” Brock then turned to you and calmly asked, “You alright, doll? Did he hurt ya?”

Frank, still holding Jack’s shirt collar, repeated Brock’s question, “Yeah, did he hurt ya?”

“I’m fine, guys. I’m fine…really, I am.” You stumbled to get the words out.

Frank turned toward Brock and while looking at you, said, “I’ll let your team take care of him but lemme just say, if you break her heart, I’ll break your neck, got it?”

“Frank!” You interrupted and couldn’t help but smile.

Brock chuckled, “I got it…I promise, Castle.”

“Good…because they don’t call me the Punisher for nothin’.” Said Frank.

Slightly embarrassed, you rolled your eyes and replied, “Oh my god, ok, ok can you guys just get him outta my sight? My stomach is starting to turn.”

Frank tossed Jack to the rest of the SHIELD team and walked back behind the bar. Brock slowly inched closer to you, his eyes locked on yours before he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

His lips were warm and soft against your skin and you felt a slight tingle in your core as you closed your eyes and pictured his lips being somewhere else.

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself.

Before your mind could wander any further, he asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Frank had a strict rule about no drinking on the job. So with sad puppy dog eyes, you looked over at him, and silently begged for him to let you break the rules this one time.

Folding your hands together, you mouthed the word “Please?!!”

He rolled his eyes and began to pour two beers.

“Alright, kid. I’ll let you break the rules just this once, yeah?” He said, holding up one finger.

Biting back a sweet smile, you replied, “Yes! Thank you, Frank! You won’t regret it.”

Already seeing how smitten Brock was with you and the smile stretched across your lips, Frank gave Brock a nod and replied, “Just…this…once.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nekoannie-chan @nutmeg17

Others that might enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[marvelmusing]

A Marriage of Sins

Pairing: Forest Demon!Billy x Demon Hunter!Fem!Reader

Summary: When you hear of a demon living in an abandoned church in the woods, you know you need to investigate. But how could you know that the demon was just your soulmate waiting to marry you?

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, dub con vibes (there’s no explicit consent given, but they’re soulmates so the reader gives in pretty easily), bondage, religious imagery, spitting, wife kink, praise kink, tiny bit of spanking.

A/N: not extensively proofread so sorry if there’s some mistakes.

My Masterlist

The church was abandoned.

That’s what the nearby villagers had told you. But as you push your shoulder against the dark oak door, light spills out towards you. The candles are lit and there’s a pleasant warmth that spreads through your body, urging you to step further inside.

Despite the vines crawling in through the cracks in the walls and the roots that are beginning to crush some of the pews, the church looks untouched by the world outside.

But there’s a reason why you’re here.

For a demon to inhabit such a sacred place, they must be incredibly powerful.

As you walk down the aisle, there’s a snap of broken glass being crushed beneath someone’s heel. When you turn, knife already in your hand, there’s no one there.

Continuing to venture further into the church, you stop at the altar, examining the contents laid out on the stone table there.

An ornate dagger, a small wooden bowl, two pieces of ribbon - one black, one white - both made of velvet. It looks like some sort of ritual is being prepared.

On a worn piece of paper, an incantation has been written in Latin and you almost make the mistake of reading it aloud. It’s then that you hear a soft chuckle, carried on a light breeze.

Heart pounding, you spin around.

The demon is tall, even as you stand on the slightly raised dais, he towers over you, his shadow creeping towards you as he steps closer.

His dark facial hair is trimmed neatly, his equally dark hair slicked back to reveal the deep brown horns sitting on the top of his head. Darkened eyes eyes roam over your figure as he continues to move towards you.

He raises a brow at the sight of your knife, then he smirks, his tongue tracing over his teeth as he tilts his head at you.

“An unconventional wedding gift, but thank you.”

“Wedding?”

He hums, his brows creasing lightly as he looks you up and down appraisingly. You don’t know why you’re standing still, waiting for his response instead of immediately sending him back to hell.

“What colour’s your underwear?” he asks.

You gape at him.

“What?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he observes your shocked expression.

“You heard me.”

“That’s none of your business,” you protest.

He nods.

“You see, the prophecy said my wife would be clothed in white.”

Once again, he looks down at you and you follow his gaze. You’re wearing your usual hunting gear, khaki jacket with a black top and trousers, accompanied by your black boots and collection of knives tucked away in various compartments.

“And whilst I really want those fuckers down below to be wrong.” He steps closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him. “I kinda hope you’re wearing something pretty underneath all that.”

Heart beating wildly in your chest, you attempt to slow down your thoughts. How does he know about your prophecy? You had sworn the seer to secrecy, she had vowed to tell no one about your soulmate - a demon of three sins.

Raising your chin confidently, you attempt to stare him down as you claim,

“You’ll never find out.”

He grins.

Goosebumps spread over your skin and your instincts finally kick in.

His fingers curl tightly around your wrist, the tip of your knife inches from his chest. He cocks his head aside, looking down at you with a smirk.

“This the first time you’ve fought a corporeal demon?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you growl in frustration as you push harder against his grip with both arms.

“No.”

He breathes out a laugh, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he pushes you backwards. His other hand curls under your elbow, giving him the leverage to hoist you up onto the altar.

Struggling against him, you continue to push the knife towards him with little success. He looks almost disappointed at your feeble attempt.

“I think you’ve forgotten something, demon,” you hiss at him. He raises a brow at you with a bored expression.

“Enlighten me then.”

“You’re in the mortal world, and this is my domain. I have the upper hand here.” You let go of the knife with one hand, calling out the words, “Flamma in manibus.”

Instantly, the flames from the candles dissipate, flooding quickly to gather in the palm of your hand. When he sees the fire blooming in front of him the demon lets go of you, disappearing into thin air.

Stunned, you stare at the empty church for a moment before you push away from the altar, taking a few tentative steps forward. Surely a little fire hadn’t scared such a powerful demon?

Then arms wrap tightly around your body, pulling you back against a firm chest. The flames in your hand extinguish as your arms are pinned down by his hold on you.

“Looking for something?” he purrs against your ear. As his nose traces over the shell of your ear you shiver, his lips hovering above the sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I gotta admit, you’re a smart one.”

As you attempt to tug away from him, his scent fills your senses. Is this demon wearing cologne? With every breath you take, more of his scent sends a burning down your throat that urges you to press your face into the crook of his neck and breathe it in directly from the source.

He smirks.

“You starting to feel it now?” You frown at him. “I’m impressed little bride, most people would be throwing themselves at me by now.”

Blinking in confusion, you turn and meet his dark eyes. When your eyes lock, you can feel the blood flooding down your body, warming your most intimate parts and stealing your ability to think clearly.

“You’re a lust demon.”

He nods with a wicked grin.

“Among other things.” At the sight of confusion filling your eyes he shrugs lightly before he admits, “I have my moments of wrath.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Most demons specialise in only one of the seven sins.

Typically you could sense it as soon as you interacted with them. But with this demon it appeared that physical contact was the only way for you to know what he’s capable of.

The pull towards him is indescribable.

Lust tugs at your body, urging you to turn around in his arms and let him kiss you. His perfect lips would feel divine on your body, his tongue tracing over your skin and his teeth leaving delightfully painful marks in their wake.

Wrath simmers under his skin, you can see the violence hidden in his dark eyes and the firm hold of his hands as his fingers tighten on your body. There’s a beauty in it, the darkness that lurks inside him, and you wonder what it would take to bring it out to play.

Underneath the pull of those two sins, there’s something else. A deep gnawing that settles in your own stomach, a wanting that hurts. The need to be the best, to have everything that you’ve ever wanted. Greed.

The corner of his mouth twitches when he hears you gasp in realisation. A demon of three sins.

“No one ever gets that far,” he muses quietly. “They just see me as a lustful temptation or a devil on their shoulder urging them to act on their darkest thoughts.”

A cool breeze ghosts over your bare stomach, making you notice that he had slowly unbuttoned your shirt. He slides his hand over your stomach, reaching up to cup your breast.

“They don’t see that greed is what really fuels me. The sex and the violence are just means to an end, so I can get whatever it is I want.”

His thumb circles over your nipple that hardens underneath the thin fabric of your bra as he continues,

“Now you’re a stubborn one, I can tell.”

The demon traces his other hand over the waistband of your trousers, tugging occasionally at the material. He clicks his tongue when the fabric doesn’t move to his liking.

“Are you going to tell me what you want?” he asks you. He dips his hand under the waistband of your trousers, running his fingers over your pantie-clad mound.

Sparks of pleasure flood through your wobbling legs and you shake your head at him, even as you whine desperately. He mimics your shaking head mockingly with a pout on his lips before he smiles.

“I think you want me to marry you. I think you wanna belong to me. Want to tie our souls together.”

His lips press a long line of kisses from the shell of your right down to the nape of your neck. With each brush of his lips, pleasure sinks into your body, your mind growing hazy from his words and his touch.

“I think you want me to fuck you over this altar. Make you mine. Stain your soul with my cock.”

A whimper leaves your lips as he slides your jacket and shirt down, dropping them onto the cold stone floor. His hand in your trousers still doesn’t move and a shuddering breath leaves your lips as you rock your hips forwards.

“I think you want to be my wife, hm?”

“What- what about you?”

He blinks at you in confusion, a small frown creasing at his brows at the sight of you looking so uncertain. Despite the flood of arousal and wanting you’re feeling, self consciousness stops you from giving yourself over to him.

“Do you want to be my husband?” you ask, almost shyly.

His eyes darken and in an instant his lips are meeting yours in a fierce kiss. Fingers curling over the back of your neck, he spins you around and hoists you up onto the altar.

A gasp falls from your lips at the chill of the stone surface against your bare thighs. He must have dematerialised your trousers at some point, though that fades away as he continues to kiss you.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans lowly. “Yes I wanna be your husband.”

Tugging at his dark clothing, you whine when it doesn’t budge and he chuckles. You blink once and by the time your eyes are open again his clothes are gone.

As your jaw drops at the sight of him, all lean muscle and scars, he takes the opportunity to tilt your head back, spitting onto your tongue. Shock prickles over your body as you moan wantonly. He grins as you swallow eagerly.

Stepping between your parted thighs, he reaches around your body with both hands, searching for the clasp of your bra. He finds it easily, but instead of undoing it, he rips it in half before tugging at the material and dropping it to the floor.

He dips his head down, tongue flattening over your hardened nipple before he takes it lightly between his teeth.

Arching into his mouth, you gasp and whimper as his hand provides your other breast with an equal amount of attention. The pads of his fingers are calloused and they prickle delightfully over your sensitive skin.

At first you grip onto the hard stone beneath you, but then you sink a hand into his hair which makes him groan. Encouraged by his reaction, you seize a tight fistful of his dark locks.

When your nails accidentally scratch one of his horns he growls deeply, tilting his head back to look up at you. The look in his eyes makes your whole body want to melt into a puddle, allowing him to reshape you into whatever he wants.

His lips move back up, trailing a line of harsh kisses over your throat.

“Well they were right,” he breathes against your lips before he kisses you firmly. “You were wearing white.”

Blinking, you look down at your torn white bra and the soaked white panties that are clinging to the wet lips of your cunt. He slides your panties delicately down your legs, pressing kisses to whatever part of you is closest.

His thumb circles your clit slowly and you whine loudly at the bare minimum you’re being granted. When you try to grasp his wrist as swats your hand away and his obsidian eyes flash with danger.

“Patience,” he warns you, and you can’t help but tease,

“I thought patience was a virtue?”

He growls.

Your knees land on the altar as he turns you around, your cheek pressing against the cool polished stone and you breathe in sharply as his cock presses against your sopping entrance.

He slaps your ass and you whimper, giving his restraint the final push.

He groans loudly as he pushes inside you, and your hands scramble for purchase, nails scratching against the stone as the sensation of him filling you so thoroughly overtakes your senses.

Once he’s all the way inside, he breathes out harshly, pressing his forehead between your shoulder blades. He picks up the black ribbon from beside you, using it to tie your hands in front of you.

He runs his hands soothingly over your shoulders, massaging gently before he uses his weight to pin you beneath him. Then he begins to fuck you.

Hands bound, body bent into the position of his choosing, you can do nothing but accept the pleasure he’s giving you. He swipes his thumb over your clit, and you clench hard around him as the head of his cock knocks against that spot deep inside you.

As you begin to near the edge of your climax, he speeds up and soon you’re squeezing tightly around his cock as your orgasm hits you. Tension fills your muscles as you clench with a groan, the aftershocks pushing your body through a violent wave of pleasure.

He growls lowly, gritting his teeth and taking even breaths as you twitch beneath him, feeling stunned from your sudden high.

When you finally relax, your muscles loosening with pleasure, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he’s turning you around to lie on your back with your bound hands resting on your stomach.

Then he picks up the white ribbon.

“You think you can manage a few knots?”

You blink at him, still dazed with pleasure. Then you realise.

You’re getting married.

The black ribbon currently tied expertly around your wrists represents his soul. The ribbon that he’s holding now represents yours. A pure, delicate white.

The aftershocks of your orgasm make your shake and you struggle slightly with the ribbon as you tie his wrists together with a little slack between them. He grins, using his bound hands to position his cock against your cunt for the second time.

He’s slower this time, urging you to take him into your body with a surprising amount of intimacy. He takes your face between both of his hands and you can feel the ribbon that binds his hands together as it brushes against the back of your neck.

His forehead presses against yours, allowing the two of you to share long kisses that steal your breath away as he rocks inside you. Rolling your hips against his, you hear him inhale sharply before he’s thrusting harder.

Soon, you’re both moaning desperately into the kisses. Your bound hands smooth up his chest, taking his chin between your fingers. The scratch of his stubble prickles over your fingertips.

He groans loudly as he feels you clenching rapidly around his cock and praise spills from his lips, making your head fuzzy with warmth.

“Such a good little wife, with a gorgeous little cunt. You’re gonna let me cum in you, aren’t you? Gonna let me fill my wife up.”

“Yes,” you breathe out against his lips. Then he slams his hips down hard. “Yes,” you cry into the empty church. “Yes please.”

“Fuck,” he moans. Your nails dig into his hips, scratching lightly as you try to ground yourself. But pleasure is already sweeping its way through your body, lighting every nerve on fire.

Legs shaking constantly, you gasp against his lips as he kisses you.

“Let go, little bride. Let me marry you properly. Give me another orgasm, you feel so good when you cum.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, stars bloom over your closed eyelids as your hips jerk wildly. Then you climax hard around his cock. A long stream of moans escape from your worn throat, as your cunt spasms frantically.

With a few more thrusts, you’re dizzy with pleasure and he spills inside you. He rolls his hips as he rides out his high, only stopping when your whimpers become too loud and your hands nudge him away.

Withdrawing his hands from you, he reaches down to untie the ribbon around your wrists. He breathes out a chuckle at the dazed look in your eyes, and he guides your fingers towards the loose end of his own bindings.

Still dealing with the toll taken on your body, a few weak tugs is all you can manage, but soon enough the white ribbon falls to the floor alongside the black.

He runs his freed hands over your wrists, easing any discomfort caused with a gentle brush over his palm. A kiss is pressed against your damp forehead, before he rocks his hips forward.

Tensing suddenly, you stare at him with widened eyes. Then he pulls out slowly and a confusing mixture of relief and sadness fills you, but you don’t have the energy to analyse your reaction.

He traces his fingers through your folds, pushing his thick spend back inside you. Heart still pounding in your chest, you almost don’t hear him as he says,

“My name’s Billy by the way.”

Between shuddering breaths, you manage a small laugh before you tell him your own name. He smiles widely, licking his finger clean as he looks down at you.

Billy murmurs your name softly, attracting your attention. As he leans closer, you thread a hand through his hair, then stroke a single fingertip against one of his horns.

He shivers.

Then he reaches for you, tracing his fingers gently over your cheek.

“My beautiful little wife.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

[celestialspecial]

Blood Rush

Warnings: Mentions of Blood/ 18+ themes

The pounding beat of the music seemed to reverberate down to the earths mantle. An intense light show swam across the crowd lighting them up in vivid reds and blues, purple tones intermingling on the dance floor.

The entire club was packed to the gills, heat, sweat, and sounds drowned together in one large overwhelming assortment. The entire establishment felt like it was shaking down to its foundation from the pounding bass.

So many warm bodies all in one place. Billy let his eyes close as he leaned over the side of the railing looking down at the crowd. If he focused he could pick out conversations going on all around him.

He didn’t need to strain, no, to their human ears they had to yell. His pale hands gripped the metal pole tighter as he sniffed into the heavy air. Filled with so many different fragrances. Perfumes, sweat, the stench of sex even emanated from a few of the private vip booths.

A lilting soft scent wafted over his nostrils. It was airy, sweet but not overpowering. Whatever it was had his mouth watering. It was blood. But not just any. 

He let his sixth sense drift outwards, hoping to pinpoint exactly where the smell was coming from. Ignoring the ache in his stomach, hungering for whatever delicious morsel was unknowingly going to become his next meal.

The next song started and the strobe lights flickered over the packed interior. He could feel the pulse from the DJ booth, the whole floor felt like it was moving as people jumped up and down.

In his earlier days this place would’ve drove him mad. The bursting colors, unconfined smells, the droning music. And the thirst for blood. He would’ve gone mad.

Now it was the only place he could zone out. Far removed from reality. The one place he could fade into the background and pretend. Pretend he wasn’t what he was.

You could feel the buzz start to wear off as you downed your next glass of water, the sweat streaking across your forehead. You brushed at the strands stuck to your face in a futile attempt to cool down.

You could see some of your girl friends still out on the dance floor, the vodka had in fact, helped them dance better. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous penis headbands two of the them wore.

Then Cassie in her short white dress with a ridiculously large sash starting “Same Dick Forever.” The micro veil now very askew on her head. 

“…and three waters please.” You smiled at the bartender. You were doing your best to be the mom friend by drinking less but you knew there was no way to get the group back to their respective apartments if you had to drag them.

Another surge of that intoxicating scent rose up from beneath him, this time a little stronger. It had Billy, craning his neck this way and that searching for its source. 

Outlined in his enhanced periphery he could see another two or so vamps sniffing into the air as well. Red eyes threading through the crowd greedily. 

I don’t think so.

This catch was his. If only he could find them.

“Awwww is this for me?!” Izzy slurred taking the water from your hand. You watched half of it spill onto the dance floor as she regained her balance from holding the cup.

“Yes. Waters all around! Drink up!” Passing the other cups out to your friends and watching them sip something non-alcoholic. 

You couldn’t help but giggle, smacking a palm to your forehead as Cassie took a long swig then made a face, realizing it was actually just water. 

“What gives?!” 

“It’s 3 am, and I promised your fiancé I’d have you home. In one piece.” You emphasized the last part, knowing that would get Cassie to relent. 

“Ughhhhh fine.” But she was smiling, her eyes still significantly glazed. 

“Alright, bathroom break then one more dance until our Uber is here.” You corralled them off to the side as you whipped out your phone, scanning the latest price increase from Uber and Lyft.

It was more than you wanted to pay but you needed to go home, and there were so many people leaving the clubs right now. 

After hitting confirm you could feel it. A cold pin prick crawling up your spine. A quick glance around and you realized no one was touching you, but it felt like it.

All you could see were groups of people dancing as magenta light poured over the establishment in waves. No one. 

Izzy said something to Meg and Cassie chuckled but it was all muffled to you. A loud pounding in your ears, your heart rate kicking up a notch. 

What the-?

Then you looked up to the balcony where the vip booths and other dancing patrons occupied. A man was staring down at you.

Black eyes and raven hair. Pale skin that absorbed whatever new flash of color the strobe lights were sending out. He didn’t blink as you continued to stare at him.

He was handsome. Not the usual handsome you liked, but a cold almost threatening kind. Jaw set on edge and slicked back hair, almost too uniform to be in a club.

The discomfort in your chest growing with each second neither of you looked away. You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweat drenched hair aside, praying a cool wind from one of the fans would wipe away the cold sweat gathering on your skin.

His nostrils flared and you stumbled backwards, knocking into Izzy and the rest of her untouched water toppled to the floor.

“Hey! What gives?” 

“We need to leave now.” 

“Why?” Cassie asked, sobering slightly at the hint of panic in your voice.

“There’s a man up there watching us.” You turned to point but he was gone. You brows drew together. “What the fuck?”

“Oooooookay. How many shots did you do while getting us waters?” Cassie giggled, nudging you with her shoulder.

“None I swear, I just-“ a small beep from your phone rang out, “driver is now arriving. Ok guys, we gotta get out of here.”

It was no small task getting the rest of the bachelorette party out, more like herding cats, but you did it as quickly as possible sparing a few extra glances over your shoulder in the process. 

Billy had pushed away from the railing and was descending the curved stairs down to the first floor. The second he’d spied the girl below he knew it had been her he’d smelled.

Was he planning to kill her? Suck the blood from her body like he originally intended? Why did he feel like that was no longer an option?

Her wide eyes had pinned him to the spot, and an arousal grew within him, the feeling he got when a hot meal was within reach and something else. Something that brought him pause.

The other vamps hadn’t located the exact scent yet so he needed to move before they noticed him gone. There was something delectable about whatever blood ran through that girls veins.

Untainted, pure. Not pure in the traditional sense of white dresses and sacrifices to volcanos, but something deeper. Bloodlines dating back centuries could give off smells unlike anything else.

Reaching out Billy could practically hear her thrumming pulse calling to him through the darkened club. He licked his lips imagining sinking his fangs into that soft skin, her scent overwhelming him.

Drinking deep, that lifeblood coating his tongue. There were so many vital arteries he could choose from. He ached to bite into her thigh, tasting the sweat on her skin in the process.

A roiling in his stomach set him on edge, only this time it wasn’t from hunger.

Some bouncer pushed past him, shouldering Billy to the side and for the first time since he was turned, Billy stumbled. 

Catching the wall only at the last moment. Placing a steadying hand on the bricks to his side, leaning against the cool stone.

A hand shot to his forehead as he felt a shooting pain streak across his vision.

What in hells name?

The Uber pulled up as best it could to the crowded sidewalk. A Prius, way smaller than the picture had looked on the screen of your phone. 

Izzy tripped on the curb sliding into the backseat followed closely by a hiccuping Meg. Cassie grabbed the passenger’s side door before stopping.

“Wait, there’s not enough room.” She squinted into the vehicle. You licked your lips, begging your brain to think of another plan. 

“Sorry ladies, my cup holder doesn’t go up in the back. Damn things stuck, supposed to get it looked at next week.”

The man gestured to  the back seat where sure enough the cup holder had dropped into where a middle seat should be.

“We can wait for another one.” Cassie suggested, hand beginning to loosen on the door handle. 

It was late and if you waited any longer it’d be $300 for any type of transport and be over an hour wait.

“You guys go. I’ll get the next one.” You didn’t want to, but you were the only one sober enough to use the app and the streets were busy enough while you waited for your ride.

“Are you sure?” She looked hesitant, Izzy was already passed out asleep in the backseat. 

“Yes, go. Tell Dan he’s welcome.” You tried to smile reassuringly but it felt forced.

Cassie noted the struggle in your voice but before she could push back, you opened the door and gently nudged her inside. 

“Text me when you get home!” She shouted through the lowered window as the car pulled away.

Shit.

Your fingers felt stiff as you tried desperately to find another rideshare, hell you’d pay through the nose for a cab at this point.

Then you felt it again. That icy sensation tingling along your spine and up your neck.

Whirling around all you could see was throngs of people rushing past into cabs, or onto the next bar that was open. 

A swirling mass of coats, hats, vibrant clothes in the hustle and bustle and then a flash of white. A pale face. A familiar face.

The man who’d been looking down at you from the club. People moved in and out, obscuring your vision of him but there he stood. 

You willed your feet to move, but your body betrayed you in every sense of the word. Run. Move. Anything. 

He was moving towards you now, each movement fluid and calculated. Why hadn’t you just shoved yourself into that damn car with your friends?

What had possessed you to just…not get in?

Somehow the neurons in your body started firing again and you were able to turn tail and run. Bolting as fast as you could down the sidewalk. Weaving in and out of groups of people.

Where the hell were you going? It didn’t matter, you just needed to move. To get out of there as fast as possible. Your sneakers splashing through a puddle as you rounded a corner. 

A small convenience stores lights called to you from just a little ways away. You could get in there and call for help. Call the police. 

Your arm began reaching out even before you could realistically grab the door handle. Fingers stretching, so close!

Then a hand shot out, grasping your wrist and tugging you into the dark alley to the side. You tripped over your own feet, tumbling to the ground, skirt catching on the rusted edge of a dumpster.

The vice remained on  your arm, but now laughter accompanied it.

“Well aren’t you a sweet little thing?” A large hulking man hovered over you, bald, with a stained shirt, beady eyes that seemed to glint red in the moonlight. He smelled sour, a thumping in your chest increased.

As if he could hear the uptick in your heart rate he chuckled to himself. Sniffing the air, bear paw of a hand holding you tightly.

“You smell delicious.” You shuddered understanding the implications, tugging your wrist even though it was futile. 

“Let me go!” You screamed even though you were sure no one could hear you. 

“Not a chance precious.” He grinned, an evil look danced across his face, mouth parting and then you could see two glimmering white fangs. Elongating before your very eyes.

Then you knew this was it. It was over. You wouldn’t get to see Cassie get married, see Izzy get her graduate degree, you’d never buy your own house or settle down yourself.

Your eyes squeezed shut waiting for the end. But then you heard a shout and suddenly your wrist was freed and the man before you was rolling across the pavement. 

His own attacker on top of him, the sounds of a scuffle and tearing flesh.

You crawled off to the side, your fingers felt numb against the cold pavement. You could hear the brawl happening to the side of you but you tried to ignore it.

Instead attempting to lift your body up, willing your knees to stop shaking so you could stand. So you could run.

A shout rang out, bouncing off the enclosed space and the bald man stumbled back a few paces. A huge hand grasping the side of his neck where blood was shooting out in spurts.

That ice water chill shot through your veins once more, the dark haired man stood back facing you, panting. His shoulders rising and falling underneath his stained hoodie.

The other man, no- vampire, pulled back eyes darting to yours.

Narrowed as if second thinking his retreat but the snarl that came from your protector-reassured the idea that leaving was the best idea.

The words froze in your mouth, was thank you enough? Could you even form a coherent thought right now? Heart still racing.

The dark haired man looked back at you and the shudder that ran through your body nearly knocked you back to the ground.

Blood soaked the front of his sweatshirt and smeared along his mouth. A mouth that held two sharp canines, equally covered in red.

His eyes looked wild, scratches marred his clothing from the fight. A lump in your throat tightened watching the drop of blood drip from his mouth into a puddle at his feet.

You felt along the wall to your side, desperate to stabilize yourself and begin running again.

You weren't sure how, maybe he could read thoughts, you'd never met a vampire before. But he was on you in less than a blink.

His hands gripped your biceps, pushing your back into the wall behind you. His eyes were so black you couldn’t see the pupil, but when the light caught on them from a passing cars headlights you swore they were red.

Your body was frozen to the spot, limp in his grasp.

“Why do you smell so goddamn good?” He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, snarling against the heated skin. 

His scruff scraping against you, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up the column of your throat.

The noise that escaped your mouth must have pleased him, because you could feel him muffle a sound of amusement against you.

Billy had been a vampire for so long now, years of practice controlling his hunger and urges but this girl seemed to unravel all that. 

If he’d been newly turned he would’ve torn into her throat without a second thought. Allowing the hot blood to flow unencumbered into his mouth. 

It took almost all his control to not just bite and drink all that he could. Pulling back, his once slicked back hair now falling into his face. 

Framing his pale skin and dark blood red eyes, fangs protruding as he huffed a laugh at her expression. He must’ve been quite a sight. Torn from the pages of horror comics.

Her heart was thundering in her chest, those gorgeous eyes wide and beautiful full lips parted in fear but, hell, what would they look like parted in ecstasy?

Billy could feel his pants becoming tighter just at the thought. No. He needed a taste. Something to whet his appetite, nothing lethal. 

His thumbs rubbed at the exposed skin on her arms where he held her firmly in place. 

“Please let me go.” She stammered, it was soft, pleading. It tugged at a long forgotten part of him that remained from his time as a human.

It almost worked.

“No I can’t do that. Not yet.” 

Leaning in Billy kissed the side of your neck. Sucking a long slow spot where your shoulder met in a delicate crease. Another delicately placed kiss to the clavicle, working his way up to nip at your ear.

Your treasonous body relaxed into his grasp, turning to soft putty under those strong hands that still held you in place. 

His eyes fell shut, smothering a groan against your skin as he could smell your own arousal dampening between your legs.

Why was this girl making things so much harder for him?

Some vampires chased their prey, claiming the fear and adrenaline pumping through their victims bodies was the closest they could get to a high they had experienced as humans.

Billy disagreed. Pleasure tasted so much sweeter than fear. That metallic tang was pleasant when you were a newbie. A fresh kill that had you feeling dangerous and all powerful.

But desire? Lust? There was no comparison. It trumped all other emotions flooding the system when he fed. It made him feel truly alive and lulled his generous donors into a blissful relaxed state.

In a swift movement, he had your hands pinned overhead. Holding them tight against the brick wall. He was so close to you now, his breath scattered the few stray strands of hair that had fallen over your shoulder.

A strong muscled leg inched between your own, spreading them apart millimeter by millimeter. You bit your bottom lip so hard it drew blood. 

Dark eyes immediately darted to your face, sniffing the air once. All while keeping both your hands pinned with his inhuman strength, the other hand drifting to capture your chin.

Holding it in place before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You cursed yourself as shockwaves of pleasure soared through your bloodstream. Both of you moaning at the sudden sensations.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The man before you pulled back at that. Eyes that had been fixed on your lips now lazily drifting over the rest of your face before making contact with your own. 

His thumb grazed your lip that was now swollen from where he’d sucked the rivulet of blood free. 

“No.” He paused, as if to say something else but then thought better of it. At that you felt your body relax, sinking against his raised leg. 

His knee rose further up, pressing into you firmly enough you gasped at the contact. He bounced it higher, your sneakers scraping desperate for purchase onto the ground, but they no longer made contact . 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to have some fun with you.” 

[saintedcooper]

It's Complicated (Francis Ch3 | Frank Castle x Reader 1940s AU)

Chapter Summary: After the attack, you awaken with some pain and a lot of questions.

Series Summary: New York, 1949. You’re a waitress trying to find your place in the world and get your footing at your new job. That is, when you’re not being very distracted by the handsome, mysterious writer who frequents the diner.

Previous Chapters: 1 / 2

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Content Warnings: memories of past violence as seen in previous chapter, hot man cooking you healing food (dangerous stuff).

Length: 2,908 words

cross-posted to AO3.

Your dreams are full of dark tunnels and winding paths. Shadowy figures shape-shift into terrifying creatures that you can’t escape. All you hear is the sound of your running feet and your heart pounding like a drum.

You turn down a dark path and stop. There’s a figure in this one but it’s clear, not shadowy like the others. It’s bathed in white light and glowing. It’s a man with his back to you, dressed in slacks and a white shirt with suspenders crossing his back.

As you move closer, the man turns. It’s Francis. Your eyes go first to the soft smile on his lips before traveling down to the twin guns holstered by his sides.

You start to back up slowly and he frowns.

“Sweetheart?”

As you take another step backward, your foot slips. You rear lands hard on the stone path. You’re trying to pick­ yourself up when you notice bloody scrapes on your legs. You turn your hands over to find they’re there, too.

A frown forms on your face.

How did that happen?

As you observe the scrapes, tiny streaks of red slowly bloom and quickly grow.

A gust of cold air draws your attention to your ripped tights. When you reach down a hand to inspect the ripped fabric, a hand appears in the darkness and wraps around your ankle. It tugs hard, pulling you down as you scream.

With a gasp, you startle awake, your eyes flying open.

Your eyes dart around a familiar room. It’s yours. You sigh a breath of relief as you grab your chest, willing your breath to slow down.

The sun is high in the sky, filling the room with warm light and humid air. Your body is covered in a light sheen of nightmare-induced sweat.

In the distance, you hear Maggie plugging away on the typewriter.

You let the rhythm of the keys fade into the background as your mind wanders to the night before. The alley. Those men. Francis.

Francis.

Why had he been there? Thank god he was, but, it was curious.

If you were being honest, there was always something odd about Francis. Sure, he was gorgeous, but there something dark and mysterious about him. It had never frightened you, it intrigued you.

He was kind, a bit sardonic sometimes, and funny. But he was also dangerous. You knew it when he’d shown up to the diner previously with bruised knuckles and scratches. You knew it the other night when you heard him taking down your attackers.

Francis Castiglione wasn’t like other men.

That's what had drawn you to him at first. But now, that hint of mystery was real and violent.

You’d heard the way he’d laid into those creeps, his fits pummeling their flesh like it was nothing. You’d heard him panting like an over-excited dog, telling them to get up so that he could brutalize them again.

It was one thing to know he had that darkness; it was another to witness it.

You hardly know him. He doesn’t owe you anything but you can’t help having more questions than you know what to do with. If the charming writer who’s been flirting with you for months is also the man you saw last night, which face is the mask? How can you trust anything he’s ever said to you?

Even with your confusion the undercurrent of fear you feel isn’t for you, it’s for him.

What have you gotten yourself into, Francis?

With a sigh, you flip back the sheet to get out of bed. Searing pain around your torso stops you in your tracks and doubles you over with a sharp cry.

The typewriter stops and a few moments later, you hear footsteps hurrying down the hall as you slowly try lower your body back to the bed.

Maggie appears a few moments later with a cool towel and a worried look on her face. The towel still drips with water, proof of how quickly it’d be gathered.

“Thank God you’re awake! You scared me half to death. Are you alright?”

You nod and attempt a reassuring smile. It’s more of a grimace.

Trying to lie back down is too painful, you end up sitting with your back propped up against the headboard and your feet out in front of you.

Maggie wrings the towel out of one of the windows before sitting on the side of your bed and brushing the towel across your forehead.

The cool water on your skin calms you enough to begin to relax. You lean into the towel and close your eyes.

“How do you feel?” Maggie asks.

“Like I got dragged down an alley.”

She sighs. “I’m so sorry, honey. I don’t know what to say. Just thank God you’re alright and that Francis passed by at the right time.”

Your eyes fly open. Francis.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Don't you remember?” Maggie says. “Francis was headed home and heard the commotion. Those men got spooked and scrambled away.”

“Right... And how’d I get here? Back home?”

Maggie flips the towel over and brushes it gently across the rest of your face.

“Well, early that morning, I thought I heard you coming through the door. I heard the keys and the floorboards creaking, then a man mumbling or something.” She laughs. “I thought you were about to get lucky. I came out being nosy, trying to get a look at your fella.”

You watch her face as she continues. She looks off to the side and stops brushing the towel against you.

“That’s when I saw Francis with you in his arms, covered in dirt and dried blood. Knocked out. I think I must have screamed because I remember him telling me to be quiet and asking about all kinds of supplies. I cleaned you up while he cleaned and dressed your wounds. Then he put you in the bed and left so that I could change your clothes.”

She sighs. “I’ve never been so scared or so certain. It was like I just knew what to do.”

You’d liked Maggie from the moment she stepped onto your doorstep asking about the room you had for rent. You knew a bit about her past but you mostly enjoyed each other’s company in the present. She’s like your wild and free little sister. It feels odd seeing her sad because of you.

You grab her hand and she looks at you.

“Thank you, Margaret.”

She gives you a slight smile as she squeezes your hand.

You finally take a moment to notice that Maggie’s wearing her audition clothes, a smart blouse under a grey wool jacket and matching shirt. “Audition day?”

“Oh!” Maggie stands abruptly from the bed. “I heard you call out just as I was about to leave.”

She gives you a guilty smile.

“I got a call back from that audition last week.” She gnaws on her lip. “I think this is the one.”

It couldn’t be better news. She’s been a struggling artist every day you’ve known her.

“Don’t feel guilty! I’m happy for you. Please, go. I can take care of myself.”

Maggie’s expression of guilt fades quickly into amusement. “You won’t have to.”

“Oh?”

Maggie grins and leaves the room, coming back quickly with a serving tray. The tray she settles around you is loaded up with chicken and rice soup, a hearty slice of bread, a glass of orange juice, and the morning paper.

You gasp. Maggie is a lot of things, but a cook she ain’t.

“Margaret! You cooked?”

She laughs and says in a sing-song voice, “Well, somebody did. Definitely wasn’t me.”

You open your mouth to ask who else it could have been when you hear the floorboards creak in the hallway.

“Hello?” you call out just as the visitor enters your room.

Francis leans up against the door frame. He’s fiddling with his hands and looking up at you under his eyelashes.

“How you doin’, sweetheart? Alright?”

You stare back at him. His knuckles are bruised but he otherwise looks better than the last time you saw him at the diner.

Maggie clears her throat, mouth twisted to the side as she hides a smile. “I should be heading out. Thank you so much for staying with her, Francis.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

Maggie giggles on her way out of your room. Her footsteps recede until you hear the door open and close.

Looking at Francis, all of the questions floating around your mind earlier rush back in at once. You’re intensely aware of a chasm between the girlish fantasies you’ve entertained about him and the fact that you know so little about this man.

Neither you nor Francis speaks for minutes.

“’s gonna get cold,” he eventually says.

You nod, picking up a spoon. The soup smells delicious. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

“Saturday! I slept an entire day?”

Francis nods. “Yeah. ‘s not uncommon. The shock, the overwhelm. When you’re safe, you just sort of…crash.”

You nod.

Wait, Saturday.

“What about Mister Cranston?”

“Museum guy?”

You nod.

“He was by yesterday. Pushy little guy. Grilled me for two hours about that night like I wasn’t the hero here.”

You smile. “How’s he gettin’ on at the museum? I hate the idea of leaving him alone. It’s a big project, he needs help with it.”

Francis wags a finger at you. “He said those would be some of the first words outta your mouth, worrying about him. He also said don’t worry about him.”

Francis gestures to an envelope on your bedside table. “He brought your pay by early.”

You scoff. Typical Mister C. You’re supposed to be paid on Saturdays for the work done that week. You’re certain that check includes pay for two days of work you didn’t do.

You turn your attention back into the soup. Some old, faint voice belonging to your mother pops into your head. “If you must eat in front of a man, dainty bites. No man wants a barn animal.”

But at your first bite of the soup, all ceremony goes out the window. The soup is delicious. There’s flavorful chicken, rice, and vegetables swimming in a rich and full broth. You wolf it down as fast as you can and quickly find yourself slurping up the broth after eating most of the bowl’s contents.

Francis’ laughter draws you out of your search for the last drops of the broth in the bowl.

“There’s more where that came from, ya know.”

You wipe your mouth, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“I haven’t eaten in two days, thank you very much.”

Francis finally steps away from the door, seeming more relaxed now. He sits on the bed, just past your feet.

You wait for him to speak, but he seems to be searching for words. He opens his mouth a few times, an “uh” or “um” coming out before he shuts it again.

You’d try to help him out but you don’t know what to say either. Instead, you grab the newspaper and start flipping through it. You’re hardly paying attention, just skimming to have something to do.

Then, an article at the bottom of the page catches your eye. As you start to read it, your breath quickens.

“WHO PUNISHES THE PUNISHER?”

Over the past several months, the criminal inhabitants of New York City have had a new kind of law enforcement to answer to. A nameless, masked vigilante—colloquially referred to as The Punisher—has been terrorizing the criminal sect, leaving in his wake a trail of dead and mangled bodies.

The Punisher has become a polarizing figure in the city, with many locals grateful to have a criminal who’s on their side, but with others wondering, “Just who does this guy think he is?”

Jeannie Serrano was a witness to The Punisher’s most recent outing in Hell’s Kitchen, during which he saved an unidentified girl from two ruffians in an alley two days ago. Neither man survived the attack.

Serrano says: “I heard a commotion in the alley on the side of the apartment. I went to the side window to check it out and there was a girl running from two men. She’s just screaming her head off and I ran to call the police but then I heard the men start yelling. I went back and there and saw some guy pummeling the creeps. You ask me, they got what they were asking for. Trying to interfere with a girl like that. It’s not right. I’m glad he did it. Maybe now girls can walk the streets without fear. Make those scumbags afraid for a change.”

But other residents aren’t quite as welcoming as Mrs. Serrano. “I don’t like it,” says Brooklyn resident Marvin Akeman. ”Who died and made him the law? Who even is this guy? I know I didn’t elect him, did you? What’s he want? We’re all just suckers sitting around thanking him and who knows what he’s got planned. He could be the worst of the bunch and you’re out here reporting on him like it’s nothing. You ask me, somebody oughta lock him up. See what’s what.”

Polarizing as he may be, if this week’s most recent events are anything to go by, The Punisher has no plans of stopping. Or being caught.

You finish with the article and find yourself just staring. You think back to the morning before the attack. You remembered seeing yet another article about the guy they’re calling The Punisher. He’s been in the news for months now but you haven’t thought much about it. You’re from a small town, you know how it goes. There are some things the law isn’t cut out to handle. You were really surprised there weren’t more people like him in the city, where there’s so much unnecessary danger.

Because you don’t have ill will or fearful feelings about the “Punisher,” you’d never stopped to wonder who he could be. You’d never asked yourself what kind of man might be wrapped up in this.

“What happened to you the other night?” you ask. “When you came to the diner. You looked like you’d just gotten out of a boxing ring. What happened?”

Francis, who had still been trying to figure out what to say to you, knits his eyebrows together and makes a gruff noise under his breath.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’. Just a little disagreement.”

You nod. Your hands subconsciously tighten around the paper in your hands.

“Like the disagreement you had with the men in the alley?”

“Exactly like that.”

An uncertain silence falls between you two. Francis doesn’t break eye contact until you do, looking down at the paper in your hands. As stoic as he can be, Francis is a fidgeter when he’s nervous. You watch out of the sides of your eyes as he cracks his knuckles, picks at his nails, and bounces his heel up and down.

You’re quiet long enough that when you speak again, Francis flinches so slightly you might not have noticed it if you weren’t so focused on him.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say.

“Hm?” he says with a raise of his eyebrows.

You lift up and twist the paper around to show him the article. His eyes dart down to it and then back up to your face but he remains silent. You’re glad he doesn’t bother lying to you, but it’s clear you’re going to have to drive the conversation.

“D’you know I’m not from the city?”

“Yeah, I remember some of those stories about your growing up in the country,” he says with a grin. “Pretty sure you told me one about pushin’ some idiot’s face down into a cow pat when got fresh with you.”

“Exactly,” you shrug. “Where I come from, a girl had to look out for herself and failin’ that, we had to take care of each other. Maybe it’d be givin’ a face a slap and maybe that wouldn’t cut it.”

Francis nods. “I get that.”

You watch him for a moment that stretches so long he starts to get uneasy. He shifts his weight slightly on the bed and visibly swallows. A first nervously clenches and unclenches once where it rests on his leg. But he never breaks your gaze.

“I watched my gran run more than a couple of bad eggs out of town with her sawed off. Women beaters. Worse. Sometimes you have to take care of things yourself. Maybe I wish it was different but people doin’ what they’ve got to doesn’t bother me. But with you, I don’t know.”

He looks so handsome with his eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed. You’d almost prefer to keep him confused.

“You don’t exactly owe me anything here, Francis, but I don’t understand it. It’s always gonna be someone but why you?”

Francis nods, seemingly to himself, as his eyes roam around the room. He stands and walks over to one of the windows, leaning his arm against the frame. The sun is still sat high in the sky and he squints against it.

“Sweetheart…,” he says quietly. He’s still gazing out the window, but he darts his head down as if he avoiding meeting your gaze. “’s complicated.”

You gesture at yourself.

“I’ve got time. Uncomplicate it.”

This chapter has been mostly finished for months but life does life and anyway, it's here now! I love writing these two. Let me know how you feel about this chapter. Comments and good-faith feedback are welcome.

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune | divider banner by @/saradika (sorry for the accidental tags! I have no idea what I'm doing!)

[ellooo0ooo]

Siren!Billy Russo🧜‍♀️ w/ short comic

Based on this post, written by @becauseicantthinkwritings (really sorry;;;) with @marvelmusing's moodboard

I missed some things a little too late for me, and I'm embarrassed about it lol sorry afkhask

Some obstacles must be overcome so it took a while to finish akfjlaksjfl

Also @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend here it is!

[depressedbagpipe]

"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter six

Words: 5151 Warnings: mentions of the previous attack (check the last chapter for reference), mentions of PTSD, death, guns, explosions (and the aftermath i guess). poor grammar choices. change of pov, foul language, dana wants some soup. A/N: yeah, it's been a long time coming. i accidentally fell into a burning ring of fire depressive episode ft a massive writer's block but thank you for your patience and love. had to add some billy into it, too. hope you guys like it (mind you i haven't written anything in like two months so sorry for the poor grammar choices) Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

Series Masterlist Previous chapter

Chapter six

I felt the thick thud of my skull before I could even register I was in pain. My skin felt warm and sticky, and although my entire head was throbbing, it especially felt like a needle was constantly poking my temple. Even with closed eyes, the ache seemed to grow every second. My entire body hurt, too, and I heavily debated whether I wanted to open my eyes, too afraid of what would wait for me on the other side. 

Muffled voices and footsteps screamed from the other side of the door, the sound too distant and distorted to fully comprehend what they said, and for an instant, I panicked.

And then, like a slap across the face, a flash of black flooded my vision, and Billy’s eyes were suddenly all I could see. The throbbing in my head grew stronger and unforgiving, and dizziness overcame me. Memory was coming back in flames, and each was more painful than the last. 

Billy. The attack. Billy’s apartment. The café. Billy’s car. My apartment. Billy’s black suits. The MET. Owen. Billy. 

Billy.

The name tasted weird on my tongue. There was bitterness in it, and fear, but also comfort and power. The mix was strangely addictive, and it weirded me out even more after realizing he was the first thing on my mind after having just woken up. 

I groaned, and although the sound was distant in my ears, mixed with the slight ringing that filled the silence around me, it was apparently loud enough for the door to burst open wide. I winced at the sudden noise, but the surprise was quickly replaced by relief when the man himself crouched next to me, unannounced. My eyes were still closed, but his scent was unmistakable. The warmth that followed, although unmistakable as well, was surprising.

‘Good night, Dana,’ he whispered. His voice was uncommonly soft, and the usual sharp edge he wore like a suit was gone. I wondered if, for a second, I had imagined it, because it seemed so foreign to him. But I couldn’t deny that I liked it.  

I believed he would have shouted, screamed, yelled at me and my irresponsibility. I thought he would just give me an earful, repeating the same speech like a mantra about safety and trusting strangers. How mad he would have looked, with his eyes sending daggers into my heart and venomous words into my brain. He would’ve repeated over and over how he had been right, and how I had been wrong, and how stupid and reckless I had been and almost had gotten myself killed because of it. 

But when I opened my eyes, I found none of that. Gone was his anger and fury. Instead, I was met with a rather compassionate face, with deep lines of worry around his eyes, and his usually-tamed hair falling flat on his head, with strands gracelessly tousled and unkempt. 

My fingers twitched slightly as if wanting to reach and fix it for him on their own. But either it hurt too much to move or I was too much a coward to do anything. So, instead, I just lay there, with eyes half-closed, a killing headache, and a nervous heart. 

‘Hi.’ My throat was hoarse and it hurt to speak. My voice sounded weak, and I fought the urge to grimace at that. I knew I was weak, and yet, I hated that. Especially in front of him.

‘You gave me –us, quite a scare the other day,’ he coughed lowly, his eyes moving across my face. His pupils seemed to mix with the irises entirely, and the darkness around us created two pools of somber black that were now analyzing every single aspect of my face. I had never felt so naked, yet so alive.

His little slip-up didn’t go unnoticed, but I was too tired to even press him on it. All I could do at the time was frown, and even the movement sent another hard thud to my head. To my dismay, Billy noticed that, and brought his warm palm against my forehead and softly rested it on the skin, careful and caring. Two things I never thought Billy Russo could be.

‘The other day?’ I asked finally after registering his words.

‘At the park.’

I sat there, looking at him. For a second I thought this illusion of Billy would fade, and the anger would come back, but it didn’t. I waited, staring at him, trying not to dwell too much on the way his hand felt on me, and kept waiting, but he didn’t move. It was only then that I spoke for him.

‘The attack.’

He nodded gravely, and I could have sworn a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘Yeah. The attack.’

I frowned again. ‘The other day?’

He took his hand off, and the sudden coolness of the air made me miss his contact, even though it felt refreshing. His existence was a complete contradiction in my head.

‘Yeah,’ yet he didn’t look me in the eye this time. His hands suddenly occupied themselves by pouring water into an empty glass on the bedside table. Recognizing the round shape of the object, I finally realized I was in my bed, back at my apartment, safe and sound.

He carefully brought it to my lips and tilted my head forward, helping me. His hand cradled the back of my head, and with one touch I was hooked. If he felt any affected by it, he didn’t show it. I almost wished he did.

The cold water soothed my aching throat, if only a little, and even though I was still tired, I couldn’t help but ask.

‘How long have I been out?’

‘Three days.’

‘What?’ the shock moved my body upwards involuntarily, but pain flashed in my eyes and my back collided with the mattress rather harshly. 

Billy helped me down again, adjusting my bed covers over me as he rechecked my head.

‘You’re fine, Dana. Just… go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk when you recover,’ he said, standing up again.

‘I thought you said I was fine,’ I couldn’t help myself. He didn’t answer, but instead rolled his eyes. He started walking away toward the door, and suddenly, the prospect of staying alone became unbearable.

‘Wait,’ I called him.

Billy was already walking out when he stopped.

‘What do you need?’

It was so casual, the way he said it. So domestic. So natural. It was scary to think that, behind all that hair gel and money, there was a man. A person. A person I now needed beside me, if only to sleep. I knew that as soon as I closed my eyes, nightmares would plague my dreams. They had been haunting me ever since I closed my eyes three days ago, but my brain refused to wake up. Now I knew they were memories. And I was desperate to make them stop.

‘Could you… stay with me? At least, until I fall asleep?’

He seemed shocked at the question, and before he could refuse, I spoke again.

‘I don’t want to be alone right now, please.’

I winced again, both at the pain and at my own embarrassment. My voice felt as weak as the rest of my body, but I hated being powerless even more in front of Billy. I didn’t know what opinion he had of me, and I didn’t know if I’d ever know, but for some reason, I didn’t want him to think of me as weak. I hadn’t known him for long, but at that moment, in that state, I just wanted, needed, a break. I needed Billy to look at me and not see the desperate and frightened girl I felt at the moment. For once, I wanted to be strong, and I had just blown that away by asking him to stay with me. 

But, thank God, Billy sighed and closed the door, leaving the two of us in the dark. His movements were measured and precise as he walked toward me and to the side of my bed, taking off his shoes and placing them by the foot of the table. He didn’t look at me and I didn’t look at him as I scooted over to make room for him. Even though the space wasn’t that big, once he lay down, we both managed to fit next to one another without touching. I almost wish we did. 

The silence was deafening. I tried to control my breathing and not move too much, knowing the second I did I’d brush Billy’s arm. My blinds had been rolled down and very little light was coming from the outside, and the thought of not being able to see Billy, despite feeling his warmth next to me, was somewhat bizarre. A battle was raging on my insides, and unfortunately, the pain in my head was the deus ex machina saving the day. Everything still hurt too much: my head, my back, my pride. And yet, Billy made no noise beside me. I wondered whether he had fallen asleep, for it sure felt like hours.

‘Billy?’

Silence.

‘Yeah?’ he finally answered.

His voice was smooth, and I instantly knew he hadn’t been asleep either. This was as awkward for him as it was for me, but he still made the effort. I appreciated that.

‘Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?’

It was probably the stupidest thing to ask, but I felt the urge to keep him talking. At least his voice was something familiar. At least his voice was anchoring me to reality, instead of letting my mind wander and losing itself again.

‘It would’ve been dangerous.’

‘What if I had died?’

‘You’re not dying on me, Dana Jones.’

‘How can you be so sure of it, Billy Russo?’

‘Because they’d have to get through me first. I’m not planning on dying any time soon.’

His words weren’t romantic by any means. They were harsh around the edges, full of implications, just like him. But I liked the way he said them. And I could always blame the raging headache for such nonsense in the morning.

I scooted an inch closer, still without making contact. I rolled on my side, facing him, even though I couldn’t see him. I even heard his faint breaths, a bit rushed and erratic. What was he nervous about?

‘Thank you.’

He took a few seconds to answer again.

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘And thank you for saving my life.’

‘Go to sleep, Dana, you need it.’

‘Alright.’

Silence. It really was awkward, to say the least. Both of us were awake, sharing a bed, and yet, no one talked. It felt like hours, although they definitely were a few minutes. My breathing slowed, and my eyes kept drooping despite my intent of having them open. I couldn’t tell whether Billy was awake or not. And just when I thought he had fallen asleep, he spoke. 

‘Goodnight, Dana.’

My lips twitched slightly, and I answered.

‘Goodnight, Billy.’

…

Waking up with a killer headache wasn’t anything new to me. Many times before I had woken up with the remainder of a hungover, with mismatched pajamas and sweaty sheets. Other times, it was a flu, or a migraine, or a simple cold. I wasn’t a sleepwalker by any means, but every night brought an adventure with it. I never knew when, where, or how I’d wake up.

That day I woke up hot, cold, and alone. Again, not my first rodeo. But after realizing the events of the previous night, I couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that flooded my senses. The other side of the bed felt oddly empty, and Billy’s scent still lingered on the pillow. It was the only clue I had that whatever had happened was real. My head still hurt, and my stomach was grumbling like crazy, and despite not having enough strength to leave my bed, I did so with a groan. 

The floor was cold under my feet, even though I was wearing pink fluffy socks that definitely did not belong to me at all. I looked around my room with a frown, but everything seemed in place. Taking a quick look at the mirror next to the door, I noticed I was wearing a new set of pink pajamas, matching the socks, as well as a clean bandage across my head and arms. It was quite a spectacle, really, but my hunger got the best of me and with a final sigh, I opened the door and walked out, knowing with every single step that life was about to get a thousand times more dangerous.

Surprisingly, I found Karen sitting by the kitchen, with a mug in her hand and bags under her eyes. Her face lit up as soon as she saw me walk in.

‘Oh, Dana, thank God you’re awake!’ she almost dropped the mug on the counter and stood in front of me. 

With tentative arms, she hugged me, and the warmth that came with it had me closing my eyes in enjoyment. It had been too long since somebody had even embraced me like that.

‘Hi,’ I said rather shy. 

We were the only ones in my apartment, and I felt grateful for that. I didn’t know what I would have said had Billy been there. 

‘How are you feeling?’ her voice was low and soft, a total contrast to Billy’s. She showed genuine care, and maybe it was the concern in her eyes or the worry in her words, but all of a sudden, tears filled my eyes and fell on their own accord.

Karen quickly hugged me even harder, rubbing my back comfortingly as I sobbed into her shoulder.

I didn’t even know what I was crying about. The attack, the shock, the way my life had crumbled in a matter of seconds since Billy showed up at the stairs of my school. The tension, the pain, the fear, all of it was now going down the drain as I let it catch up to me. I lost complete track of time; I just allowed myself to stand there and break down, and Karen’s soothing presence only encouraged me further. God knew how long had it been since I had a good cry, and now it felt like the dam had broken and all the pent-up emotion was exploding in every direction, leaving me more and more empty the longer it went. 

But it felt good. I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable, much less in front of other people. And part of me knew that the downfall was inevitable, so I was glad I was home at least. I certainly wished the situation was different, but my sanity appreciated it nonetheless.

Only after my eyes ran out of tears I dared look up. Karen’s eyes were equally reddish but cupped my face into her hands and looked me in the eye.

‘Are you feeling better?’ she asked.

‘Yeah.’

She smiled. ‘Great.’ She led me to the couch and sat me down, checking my bandages. ‘How’s your head? Does it hurt?’

I shook my head, even though it hurt after crying so much. ‘I’ll be fine. I could use a shower, though. And food.’

She smiled. ‘That’s good. Go take a shower and I’ll make you some soup. Can you stand on your own?’

I nodded. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Understandable. Go, I’ll be here when you get out. And, Dana,’ she stopped me as soon as I turned around to leave. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

I smiled, genuinely. ‘Thank you. For everything.’

She smirked and nodded at me, and I left.

I didn’t want to make the situation any more awkward, and that’s why as soon as Karen resumed to her own devices, I sprinted to the bathroom, quickly hiding there and locking the door behind me. Against better judgment, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, and couldn’t help but to grimace at the view. Not only was my hair sticking up in weird shapes and places, but I still had heavy dark circles under my eyes, my lips were chapped and dry, and the skin looked like it needed some more melanin to be deemed healthy. Shaking my head I got in the shower and didn’t leave until my fingers were pruney and begging to be dry once more. 

I rinsed my skin once, twice, until it burned. Every time I closed my eyes, memories haunted me. Flashes of red and orange danced before my eyes, followed by deafening noise and terrified yells. New York attacks were nothing new, and I had seen my fair share of violence and injustice before. But this time, I had been caught in the crossfire. It had been entirely my fault, for ignoring Billy’s orders despite promising otherwise. I knew I had always had a target on my back, but, for the first time, it felt real. As selfish as it sounds, I had been directly affected by the chaos that usually ran rampant but silent in the city. And that only angered me. Because today I had been the victim, and I had survived, but deep in my gut I knew innocent people hadn’t. And that it hadn’t been the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

At some point during my little stream of consciousness, I heard the front door open. I didn’t need to listen further to know it was Billy. I could recognize his footsteps from a mile away. 

With a deep breath I finally got out of the shower and dressed, and, with tentative steps, I exited the bathroom. The warm water had slightly relaxed my tense muscles, and I truly felt better after laying in bed for so long, but mentally I wasn’t ready to face Billy. I wasn’t scared of him, but I didn’t want to have a reason to. 

What I wasn’t expecting was to find Billy, Frank, and Karen talking in hushed voices, with Karen close to Billy’s face and an angry frown on her face. 

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ I said, reading the room. The tension could be cut with a knife, but I was still too tired and hungry to care.

Their heads twisted in my direction, and their sudden attention had me almost trembling in my place.

Frank stood there with virtually no expression on his face, as he usually did. Karen looked relieved, although something close to resentment emanated from her eyes. And then there was Billy.

It was the first time I had truly seen him since before the attack, and, to my surprise, didn’t look any better than I did. His hair, although freshly washed, wasn’t combed in the meticulous way he usually wore it. His clothes, too, were clean, yet he hadn’t bothered to properly tuck his shirt into his pants, and the laces of his shoes were undone. His expensive blazer lay forgotten by the entrance. And his eyes… they were tired. The creases around them were more prominent, and for the first time, he looked older. I knew he was older than me, but with his cocky attitude and his perfectly-kept appearance, I always forgot. Now, he looked his age, somewhere in his thirties, and it felt like a ton of bricks just hit me in the face at the realization. 

When our eyes met, I shied away. I still felt embarrassed about the night before, and I doubted he’d go easy on me after I could stand on my own. I really didn’t want him to be right about Owen, and I didn’t want him to remember me laying frail and cold in my bed. I had the strong urge to disappear, but it was time for me to face the consequences, wherever those led. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hi,’ Billy answered. His voice left a tingling sensation in the back of my neck.

‘Are you okay, kid?’ Frank suddenly spoke. His voice, too, was smooth, contrasting greatly with his appearance. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, yet his bulletproof vest and the grip of a gun on his waist were new additions. 

I nodded carefully, not even assessing his question. I was in no way okay, but I still had my guard up around them. I wanted to be okay. I was tired of not being fine.

‘Alright, you need to eat,’ Karen interrupted the moment bringing her hands together and led me to the kitchen, where a steaming bowl of soup was waiting for me at the small table. She slid two pills together with a glass of water as I sat down. ‘For the pain. Eat, and we’ll talk later.’

She gently patted my forehead, probably searching for a fever, but her hands were soft and I appreciated it nonetheless. It had been so long since anybody had taken care of me, that I didn’t mind it was a woman I had only seen a couple of times. I still didn’t face Billy, although I could feel his burning gaze on me, but thankfully Karen caught his attention and resumed their previous conversation, as I did my best to swallow and ignore the details they spilled on the other side of the room. 

My eyes closed for a few seconds as I took a big breath, hoping to find enough strength to face whatever was to come as soon as I was done eating. I looked at the clock on the wall by the entrance, and it surprised me to see it was noon. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find, but I welcomed the time. I still had at least half a day to get my shit together, instead of wasting another one drowning in my own misery. But that’d come later. I just wanted to eat the damn soup.

…

I wished the soup would have been endless, because now I was sitting on the couch, with the other three adults looking down at me with varying expressions and hidden emotions. It was silent for a while until Billy spoke.

‘Tell us all you remember,’ he said. Gone was the softness, and his tone reminded me of the same one he had used when we first met, back in the interrogation room at Anvil’s headquarters.

‘Well… I was with Owen…’ I stopped and cringed. I wasn’t looking at him, but Billy suddenly stood straighter when I mentioned his name. ‘And he insisted on getting an ice cream after the museum. So we were at Central Park, and… that’s when everything went to shit, I guess.’

Frank’s face was unreadable, and Karen softly nodded. ‘Alright, no brain damage. That’s good,’ she sounded quite relieved.

‘What did you last see before…’ Billy paused for a second as if it physically pained him to talk. I found it hard to believe that he actually cared about me, but I had seen weirder. ‘Before everything went to shit?’

I took a few seconds as well. ‘I mean… Everything’s kinda blurry. Not like there’s anything wrong with me, it’s just… I mean I was terrified. And things were happening so fast and… I don’t know,’ I tripped over my words.

To my surprise, Frank nodded. ‘We get it. We’ve dealt with these situations way too many times to count,’ he looked at Billy, who shared the same expression. ‘Listen, kid, things are not going to get easier from now on. PTSD is no joke, and if you ever need to talk, we know some good people that can help. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,’ he even cracked a smile. 

It was reassuring to say the least, that these hunks of men struggled just as much, if not more, as I did. But those flashes were all I could see at the time, and it terrified me to think they’d stick with me forever. 

‘I really don’t wanna talk about it right now,’ I said, hoping to just stop their conversation. ‘I mean, I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. But… I just want to deal with all this when I’m ready. I’m still not sure about why things are the way they are so yeah, I guess I just need time.’ 

The three of them nodded at me. I could tell there were still a thousand things they wanted to say.

‘I do, however, have questions. I don’t wanna deal with my feelings until I know who’s making me feel like this,’ I said, with a lot more confidence than I had. ‘So what actually happened? How did you find me?’

Billy’s POV – Three days earlier

‘Shit.’ 

That was the last thing I heard from the earpiece before the explosion went off. People were running and screaming all around me, making their way out of the park, as far away as they could. My legs moved involuntarily to the source of the noise, despite better judgment. Dana was there, and that’s all I cared about.

‘Robin?’ I asked, but the static on the other side answered for me.

I picked up my pace, running as fast as I could. From the periphery of my eye, I caught many police cars, as well as my own company’s vans, trespassing into the park, followed by ambulances and paramedics. It didn’t take me long to reach the Great Lawn, my breath stuck in my throat at the sight. It had been almost destroyed, the entire green field. Burnt corpses lay around, their bodies completely unrecognizable. FBI agents were already running after the surviving men, getting lost in the immensity of the park and the echoes of their gunshots.

I looked around in a panic, trying to find Dana. Many trees were burning around me, some of them on the ground after the blast.

‘Dana!’ I yelled, raising my voice over the many sirens that blared around.

I ran along the nearest path, simply guessing Dana and Owen’s possible route from the museum. Maybe fate was on my side, after all, because only a few feet away I found Dana’s body, laying on the ground, dangerously close to a fallen and scorched tree.

I immediately kneeled beside her, pulling her up into my lap, looking over her only to find not a single scratch on her clothes. Only the side of her head was bleeding slightly and seemed to be unconscious because of it, but her heart was still beating strong and steady. Some branches had fallen on her arms as well, but nothing else seemed to be out of place.

I didn’t even have time to sigh in relief. I held her close, feeling the dread of losing her wash over me as I lifted her in my arms. 

‘Blackbird, it’s Raven,’ Frank suddenly spoke in my other ear. ‘You there?’

‘Yeah,’ I struggled a bit with Dana’s weight, taking her up in my arms and running across the park, avoiding both people and debris as I followed the direction of Anvil’s medical aid. 

‘Is she okay?’ Frank asked as I approached one of the medics by the small ambulance, dropping her carefully on the stretcher. He quickly looked over her, assessing the damage to her side, and quickly cleaning it and putting some bandage over it.

‘I hope so,’ I noticed my hands were trembling, but I couldn’t dwell too much on it. 

I only cared that Dana was alright. 

Time seemed to go too slowly. Distant gunshots and explosions still resounded behind my back, but I didn’t care anymore. The cops could handle that one. My only concern was the unconscious girl in front of me.

‘She’ll be okay,’ the medic finalized. ‘Just a hit to the head, nothing too serious. She’ll probably be out for a day or so, the shock could have gotten to her. If she doesn’t wake up by the third day, take her to the hospital, they’ll know what to do. She’ll struggle with headaches and sensory overload, most probably, and make sure she has two of these once a day, preferably with a full stomach. Sorry, Mr. Russo, I gotta help the others,’ the young medic said quickly, and after dropping the bottle of pills in my hand, he ran to the next victim.

I could only sigh in relief, quickly taking Dana back in my arms and walking towards my car, making my best to avert the inquiring press and curious bystanders who had reached the park. Dana’s head lolled to the side and into my chest, revealing the earpiece, still connected. I tried my best to ignore the weight of her head in my chest, and the warmth that came with it and spread through me as I finally spotted my car. There wasn’t anybody around, thankfully, and with some difficulty, I placed her in the backseat and drove to her apartment before the police closed the surrounding streets. 

Dissociating was my best chance, for I quickly reached her apartment complex, and after a quick scan of the area, I grabbed Dana and took her upstairs. It was my bad luck that had me coming face to face with Dana’s neighbor. 

‘Mrs. Bardot! What a pleasure!’ I greeted her with a whisper. 

She naturally seemed alarmed at the sight. An unconscious girl being carried by a man.

‘What have you done to her?’ she took big strides to where I stood.

I shook my head reassuringly. ‘Fret no, Mrs. Bardot, she’s asleep. We accidentally had too much to drink earlier on and she’s a bit of a lightweight,’ I lied. 

Mrs. Bardot looked unconvinced, and I knew what I had to do. ‘My little sleeping beauty,’ I added, pressing a kiss on her temple. It came out with a lot more emotion than I originally intended, but the weirdest part was that I didn’t feel like I was lying. Not this time.

Dana didn’t stir, and although that preoccupied me, I didn’t let Mrs. Bardot see that. She quickly smiled at the gesture and offered to help me open the door.

‘You two make such a lovely couple. Take care of her, Billy, she deserves it,’ she said as I walked into the apartment. She glared at me for a second before bidding me a good night, and closed the door, effectively leaving Dana and me back in the silence of her apartment. 

With a final sigh, I walked to Dana’s room and placed her on the bed. I even took a second to look at her, finding myself wishing the circumstances were different. I fought the strong impulse of tucking her hair behind her ear but reached her nevertheless to take the earpiece off.

My fingers still trembled slightly when I reached for my phone, quickly pressing the ‘call’ button.

‘Karen? I need your help.’

Next chapter

General Taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath, @mishaandthebrits, @celestialcharles, @idohknow

[hb-writes]

My Boss or My...Billy?

Summary: Lenny (OC) takes on a temporary role at Anvil and Billy steps in when he sees her struggling with some of the other employees.

Characters: Lenny Falconio (OC) & Billy Russo.

Request (from 💜 anon): Hello! For June requests how about, “They hate me.” & “I will prove you wrong. Just watch.” For The Punisher pretty please 💜

Content Warnings: Allusion to sexist/ agist behavior. Some language.

Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Billy leaned in through the open doorway and watched as Lenny shifted her gaze back and forth between her computer screen and a spiral notebook on her desk. Back and forth, back and forth her gaze shifted between the two maybe four times without noting Billy’s presence in the room.

“How’s it going?” 

Lenny was mumbling something under her breath when he finally said it and she immediately froze, her shoulders quickly and discreetly rolling to release the bit of tension gathered there before she glanced up. Her facial expression shifted as her gaze did and she ran a hand through her hair before forcing a smile.

“Good,” she answered as her eyes slipped back to the infernal computer, her fingers itching to reach for the mouse and minimize the screen while Billy was still on the other side of the room. “Um, but yeah, it’s great,” she added as she turned back to him, subconsciously nodding her head as if she was trying to convince both Billy and herself that, yes, that was the truth. Things were going great.

Fantastic. 

Absolutely fucking perfect. 

Lenny reached for the iced coffee that had melted hours ago, sweating a ring of condensation onto a napkin. 

“You need something?” she asked as she took a sip. 

Billy let out a soft snort as he pushed off the door frame, striding across the small office in a few short seconds, not quite sure what he was snorting at—her attempt to pull one over on him or the fact that she was sipping on an iced coffee at this time of day in December. 

Billy pulled his eyes from Lenny to look around the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in that room. It was Paul’s office and his office manager had always brought things to him. Billy had never had any need to end up there.  

Not that he really had a need to be there now. 

Billy could’ve gone home. He’d finished his work for the day over an hour before, but couldn’t bring himself to leave, not with the light from Lenny’s office still shining in the hall. Knowing she was still working, Billy had lingered, taking care of little tasks while he found himself wondering how Lenny was faring in the little windowless room down the hall. 

She was only covering the position for him temporarily, helping out while the regular guy was on medical leave. It had been Maria’s idea, and because Lenny hadn’t immediately said no to passing her time between semesters earning a little cash, they had gone ahead with it. But they were less than a week in and Billy could already tell Lenny wasn’t loving it.

He didn’t love it either, didn’t like the distance and the weird pretense that was coming into their dynamic now, some sort of power shifting between them that had never been there before. 

“Just wanted to check in,” he offered. 

“How often did you check in on Paul?” she asked, her eyes back to shifting between the notebook and the computer screen as her tone shifted. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s different.” 

Billy smirked, a distinct part of him glad for the sharpness of her tone, all that newly instituted boss-employee pretense slipping away for a moment. He raised both hands in surrender even though he was well-poised to explain how it was different for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being that Billy cared about Lenny. Not that Billy didn’t care about his employees but Lenny was the sister of his best friends. Lenny was family. And sure, she was smart and Billy knew well-enough that she could hold her own, but she was a college kid on winter break in an office full of male veterans.

Paul was ex-military and had been with the company for years. 

It was different.

“And whatever reason you’re currently thinking makes it different is probably sexist and ageist and—what?” she asked, slamming her pen down.

“Nothing,” Billy said as he eased himself into the seat across the desk from her. “You’re just right is all.” 

Lenny smiled to herself a little, picking up her pen and reengaging in the work. 

“Are any of your other co-workers being ageist…or sexist?” he asked. “Or is it just me violating the HR code of conduct?”

Billy would have liked to believe his men weren’t those things, but even he could be flawed in that way, well-intentioned or not. He wasn’t blind to the fact that it was a bit of a boy’s club. He knew on some afternoons, the place took on an attitude akin to a college frat house, especially when there was a girl around. 

Lenny didn’t pull her eyes from the notebook as she started writing out something. Billy shifted in his seat, leaning forward. 

“No one’s giving you a hard time?” He knew a few of the men had historically given Paul a hard time about getting timecards in on time, and that had been before they tried to get everyone on board with the new system. 

It wasn’t easy getting the guys to adopt anything new, and Paul hadn’t been walking around in heels and skirts and dresses trying to do it, either. 

Billy had told her it wasn’t necessary. She could dress as casually as she usually did, but she’d only countered by saying that he wore suits and she was a reflection of his company, a reflection of him, so he’d let it go. 

“Are you asking as my boss or my…” she asked, her pen stilling even as she kept her head down. “My boss or just as Billy?” 

“They’re not two separate people, Len,” he answered. “Just tell me what’s up.” 

Lenny sighed, leaning back in the chair as she rubbed her hands over her tired face. “I think they hate me,” she groaned, heaving an even larger sigh. “This whole new timesheet thing…they—”

“They don’t hate you,” he answered. 

Lenny scoffed. “Yeah? Did they tell you that? Because I’m now the face of this new system and—”

“Who’s giving you a hard time?” 

Lenny stilled, her complaints shriveling up as her mouth went dry. Billy had asked the question in a calm, steady voice. It almost sounded casual, but she knew it was a dangerous question. 

“Tell me who’s giving you a hard time and I’ll take care of it.” 

Lenny shook her head. “It’s not a big deal, Billy.” 

“It’s affecting you and it’s affecting the payroll, so whatever it is, whoever it is, I’m gonna squash it.” 

Billy held her gaze and something about how settled he seemed, something about that determination made her stomach flip. 

Lenny glanced at the screen again. Billy was probably right. At least half of the guys hadn’t submitted on time. She had reminded them all before they left for the day, but that had only earned her a few more time sheets and a handful of comments she’d rather not repeat. 

“What…well…” she started, “How…how would you typically handle something like this? Hypothetically speaking?” she asked.

“Not hypothetically speaking,” Billy said, slipping his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call for a mandatory staff meeting tomorrow at zero-four hundred and we’ll address it.”

Lenny gulped, every part of her recoiling at the mere thought of the hour. “I don’t think that’s necessary and it’s already too late anyway. You can’t...” 

Lenny’s words fell away as her computer chirped, announcing an incoming email from Anvil’s CEO.

“They’re not following orders, disregarding the chain of command,” he answered. “It’s absolutely necessary. If they can’t follow orders on this one simple thing, how can I trust them in the field?”

Lenny shook her head. She didn’t have an answer for him. Not in regards to that. Or in regards to anything with the business, really, but she couldn’t help but feel dread as her mind cataloged more than a few ways that it might go sideways, creating more trouble than it was worth.

She’d get the work done whether his guys were pleasant and cooperative or not. It might be late, it might be a pain in the ass, but Lenny thought that might be better than sitting through this meeting. 

Billy watched Lenny rub her hand over the back of her neck. “What is it?” He asked. “You don’t trust me?” 

Lenny seemed to contemplate his question, considering her answer carefully as he shifted back in his chair, casually crossing a leg over his knee. 

“I just…I don’t know if it’s the best way to go about this. You’re going to make them hate me even more than they already do.” She set her elbows onto the desk as she said it, leaning her head down to rub at her temples.

Billy shook his head as he sat up straighter. “Listen. Just follow my lead tomorrow. They might hate me when we’re through, but I’ll make sure the rest of your time here is nothing short of pleasant. Just need you to trust me on this, alright? Can you do that?” 

Lenny’s stomach continued to whirl and she continued rubbing her temples, keeping her eyes closed to avoid his gaze. To avoid answering the question.

He let it go for a moment, watching the clock as he gave her thirty seconds or so to consider it before prompting her. “Elena?” 

Lenny opened her eyes at that, glaring at him as she turned her gaze up to him. “What, William?” 

Billy let out a soft laugh, the smirk going so far as to reach his eyes as she continued glaring at him. “Alright, seriously,” he said, schooling his face into something more solemn. “Do you trust me?”

Lenny took a slow breath. “As my Boss or…” she stumbled over it again, the instinctive ‘my’ on the tip of her tongue. “Or as Billy?” 

Billy raised an eyebrow. “I already told you they’re the same guy. C’mon, Len. Quit avoiding the question. Do you trust me or not?” 

Lenny rolled her eyes. “Yes, I trust you, but—”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head as he stood up from his chair. “No buts. You said you trust me and we’re leaving it at that.” He nodded toward the computer. “Shut all that down for the night. Am I putting you in a car back to Bayside or are you staying with me tonight?” 

Lenny clicked through her screens, saving her work, not even bothering to pull her eyes away. 

“What kind of question is that? My asshole boss just scheduled a mandatory meeting for zero-four hundred that isn’t even going to do anything and…” Lenny glanced up, surprised he’d let her go on for that long uninterrupted, but he was just standing there, leaning against the open doorway with arms crossed over his chest, a soft smirk on his face. 

“Was all that supposed to mean I should call a cab?" He fished his phone out of his pocket. "You don't want to stay in the asshole boss who came up with the greatest solution to our problem’s guest room?” 

Lenny shut down the computer and gathered her things before striding across the room, rolling her eyes and heaving an exasperated sigh. 

“Of course I'm staying over,” she said as she pushed his phone down. "Thank you," she added, truly grateful for the option. Grateful for both options. She knew he really would have paid for a car to take her home, too. Billy wouldn’t leave her to take the subway across the boroughs at this time of night, no matter what the cost. But seeing as it would take her over an hour to get home, and another to get back in the morning, the offer of his guest room was far better. “But no, boss, I don’t think this is even close to the greatest solution to my problem,” she said, mocking him a bit.  

“Alright, fine,” he said as he guided her out of the room, walking them both towards his office at the end of the hall so he could grab his things. “But come the end of that meeting—”

“Come the end of that meeting, they’ll be throwing tomatoes at both of us,” she interrupted as Billy stepped into his office, leaving her to stand by the threshold, her bag slung over her shoulder and her arms crossed over her chest  “And don’t even make a joke about Oscar the grouch. I walked right into it, I know, but—just don’t, alright?” 

Billy chuckled, conceding her that even as the jest had been poised on the tip of his tongue. 

“Alright, but only if you admit I’m right about this meeting.” 

Lenny scrunched her brow and constricted her face as if she’d bitten down on something sour…maybe the mere idea of admitting out loud that Billy was right about something was sour enough to do that. 

"No," she decided as he finished gathering his things. “I will do no such thing.”

Billy snorted as they both moved into the hall. A silence settled between them as they took to the stairs, both of them thinking about the meeting just a few hours away. He was locking the front door, Lenny gently hopping from one foot to the other to combat the sudden chill when Billy offered what he thought was a final word on the matter.  

“I know you don’t believe me, Len, but I will prove you wrong on this,” he said. “Just watch. And when I do..." He pointed a finger at her. "Then you’ll be singing this asshole boss’s praises.” 

Lenny scoffed. “You prove me wrong and I’ll sing whatever you want, Billy boy.” 

“Deal.” 

Lenny’s eyes widened at the hand Billy held out to her and she let out a nervous giggle. She had mostly been joking about the singing bit, but Billy’s lingering hand told her that he was taking her at her word. She cautiously slid her hand from her pocket, the chilled air biting for only a moment before she fit her palm against his. 

“Fine,” she huffed, “but when this all goes to shit tomorrow morning, you’ll be singing whatever I want.” 

Billy gave her hand a firm shake before stepping away, whistling a tune it only took her a few moments to recognize. 

She hadn't heard it in years, but she knew it was something from Sesame Street—one of Oscar the Grouch’s songs. 

Lenny pushed her tongue into the side of her mouth as she slowly trailed after him to the car, fighting the urge to comment.

“Asshole,” she muttered when she couldn't hold it in any longer.

It was barely above a whisper, but Billy looked back at her with a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face as he held the passenger side door open for her. He kept whistling as she slipped into the front seat, Lenny unable to stop herself from singing along in her head.

"If you're happiest whenever you're complaining, then you're a grouch like me."

Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist

[violentdelightsproductions]

🍂🥮 Happy Thanksgiving from Frank, Karen and Amy! 🍂🥮

"There is always, always something to be thankful for."

Happy Thanksgiving from our little strange family to yours ♥

[cow-tag]

Weeennniiieeerrrrrrr

aka i gave in to the voices

aka casey battlenexus fic beginning

//////////////////////////////////

Casey was screaming, desperately struggling against the strange beings grabbing hold of him. Angel was running towards him, smashing her bat against the forms blocking him from view. Casey was yelling at her, pleading for her to get back. She didn’t listen, eventually splintering the bat against the head of a.. thing. Whatever the hell was taking her brother. 

Stabbing, kicking, slashing with her now splintered bat, she manages to make it to Casey. She takes out one of the creatures holding him, giving him enough room to escape from the other. Quickly, they hug, and Casey grabs her hand and runs to the edge of the roof. 

Angel stumbles for a moment, almost tripping to the pavement below. Casey releases her and leaps, landing with a thud on the building parallel to the one she was standing on. “Angel! Jump!” He shouts, holding his arms out. She hesistates, eyeing the gap. Yells came from behind her, in a language she could barely understand. She turns, seeing more creatures fall to the roof from the sky. She steps toward it for a moment, before turning and sprinting to the edge. 

Angel was never one for sports, she didn’t have the endurance her brother had. But she was always good at the long jumps. And the moment of weightlessness was familiar, similar to when she would jump five steps to the floor in their apartment. like how she would jump down from the wall surrounding her school, how she felt just before falling into the foam pit at a trampoline park. She always loved that feeling, it felt like she was flying. But, as he father always said, what goes up must come down. And Angel had a severe lack of roof below her feet. 

That blissful feeling morphed into terror as she realized her jump was too short. 

The brick wall was coming forward too fast, and she could barely register the yell her brother made out. 

Suddenly, there was a grip on her wrist, and she swears she heard her shoulder pop. She looks up to see her brother, feet on the side of the building. One hand gripped her wrist tight, swinging her to the roof. The other held to the slight edge of the building roof. He swung her up with a grunt, ensuring she had a proper grip on the same ledge he was hanging off of before shoving her up. She rolled onto the gravel, before scrambling over to help tug her brother up. Once they were both safely on the roof, the pair panted desperately. Casey let out an exasperated laugh, running his hand through his hair and removing his bandana. He held it out to Angel, and she took it wordlessly and tied her hair behind her head. “Christ, I thought you were good at long jumpin’, kid!” Angel laughs breathlessly, starting a reply. The words died in her throat as something was tossed next to them. 

The blood drained from her brother’s face, and he threw her to the side before kicking it as hard as he could. A light flashed from the puck-shaped object, before exploding mid-air. “A FUCKUNG GRENADE?” Angel gasped, gaping at her brother. How was he not as surprised? Who the fuck were these guys? “Fuck. Angel, do you know how to duck and roll?” Casey turned to his sister quickly, leading her to the fire escape. “I- I learned the basics in gymnastics, but that was years ago and-“

“Whatever! Can you do it now?” Casey yelled, tugging her down the steps. 

“Yes! Yes I can?” Angel replied, half gasping. 

“Good.” 

That was all the warning she got before Casey tossed her the remaining fifteen feet to the ground. She rolled best she could, but something cracked in her shoulder. “Jesus! A little warning next time?!” She turned to face her brother, but there wasn’t anybody next to her. She looked around, spotting him kicking off the ladder. “CASEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” She yelled, running to the wall. “GO HOME! TELL DAD I’LL BE BACK WHEN I CAN!” Casey yelled back, cracking the rusted ladder against the wall until a pole popped off. He gripped it tightly, and ran back up to the roof. 

“CASEY! WHAT THE FUCK? YOU CANT- SHIT!” 

Angel ran through the doors of the building, rushing up the stairs to the roof. She held her shoulder tightly, something was definitely broken. 

By the time she reached the roof, Casey had beaten most of the things surrounding him. When had he gotten so good at fighting? “CASEY!” Angel yelled, Casey whipping his head towards her. “ANGEL! I TOLD YOU TO GO HOME!” He shouted, smashing the rusted pole against a couple heads. “I COULDN’T JUST LEAVE YOU HERE!” Angel yelled back desperately. Casey moved to reply, but froze before he could reply. “CASEY? CASEY!” Angel screamed as she watched her older brother go limp. 

She ran to him, only to be blocked by a large.. thing. It was the first time she got a good look at one of them, they were tall and blue. It was like looking Into the bottom of the ocean, only to have it stare back at you. “GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER, YOU FUCKWAD!” She attempted to push past the alien, punching and slapping whatever she could. The being just placed a hand on her head, and gently pushed her away. 

“Go home, little one. We wish not to hurt you, we have all we need.” The alien’s voice was deep, deep enough for Angel to feel it vibrate within her chest, Tears spilled from her eyes as she unsuccessfully attempted to swing at them. “NO! GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK! YOU DON’T NEED HIM! I DO! GIVE HIM BACK!” Angel screamed as loud as she could, watching her brother’s limp body tossed over the shoulder of an alien not too different from the one in front of her. 

The alien gave her a sympathetic look, before scooping her up and walking to the fire escape. She screamed and writhed, scratching and punching at them. “I understand this is hard, but your brother is needed for far larger things. Mother specifically asked for him.” Angel didn’t listen, she just screamed her throat raw and struggled to release herself from the aliens grip. They jumped down from the fire escape, setting her down on the ground where she sobbed. She continued to attempt to fight the alien, her screams dying down to a pathetic mumble. The alien gave her one last sad look, before leaping up to the roof. That was the last Angel saw of anything supernatural, and the last time she saw her brother. 

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

It’s been exactly 729 Days since that night, and Angel still hasn’t stopped looking into those.. things that took her brother. She still remembered the look that the alien gave her before they leapt away, even after almost two years. 

She pushed the cart through the baking aisle, leaning on the handle and scanning the shelves for cake mix. Her eyes land on the box, and she reaches to grab it. Another person grabs it before her, before realizing it and looking over to hand back the box. Angel gaped at the girl in front of her. She had fiery red hair, of which fell to just below her chin. She had bangs, of which sat just above sapphire eyes. Pale freckles dotted her skin, and she apologized with a warm smile. Angel felt her face heat up, realizing that not only was she pretty, she seemed to be strong too. Her arm was well toned, and one could only assume the rest of her was the same beneath the long skirt and flowy blouse she wore. Angel attempted to stammer out a response, eliciting a giggle out of the girl. She was so obviously much older than Angel, in fact. She looked to be around C- around four years older than herself. 

“Hello? I said you can have the box if you want!” Angel shook herself out of the trance, taking the box and whispering a quiet ‘thank you.’ 

“Hold on.. Is your name Angel by any chance?” 

Angel looked up in shock at that, before hesitantly nodding her head. The girl gasped and grinned, looking proud of herself. “I knew it! You’re Casey’s little sister, right? Casey Jones?” Angel nodded mutely at that. Who was this lady? 

“Oh my goodness, I just realized how random that sounded. I’m April! April O’Neil! I went to highschool with your brother, tutored him a little bit!” The thoughts clicked together in Angel’s head, and she made a sound of understanding. Damn, Casey was not wrong when he said his tutor was gorgeous. “I.. think I remember him saying something about you? I definitely remember him gushing about his tutor and how pretty she was, so he must have been talking about you.” April laughed, grabbing a box of cake mix from the shelf. “Yeah, that sounds like him. How is he doing? Haven’t heard from him since we graduated and we went our separate ways.” 

Angel froze for a second, then suddenly took Interest in the ingredients in a vegan chocolate cake mix. She inhaled sharply, before breathing out heavily. Just like her therapist said. “He’s.. He’s missing. Has been for almost two years. Tomorrow’s the anniversary. Actually, that's why i‘m here. Was gonna make some dulce de lèche. It was uhm-“ she cleared her throat. “It’s his favorite thing our Mamá used to make.” 

April didn’t say anything for a second. “He’s.. missing?” 

“Yeah. The police hadn’t been able to track his location, he was announced dead last year. But I know he’s not. That asshole is too stubborn to die.” Angel sighed, tossing the box of white cake mix into the cart. “Sorry for making this depressing. Should probably get going. It was nice to meet you.” Angel started to push the cart away, when a hand on her shoulder made her jump. 

“Do you.. know what happened? How he went missing?” April said, voice shaky. Angel turned, expecting to see wavering blue eyes to match the tremble in her voice. Instead. She was met with determination and passion. “I.. yeah. I was there. But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

“Try me.”

[zushigirl]

“Sammy told me the news…”

Karen frowns. Samantha Radford is the head cheerleader and most popular girl in Fagan High’s senior class. The only time she acknowledges Karen’s presence is in sixth period English.

“What news?”

Julie blinks at her. “The news about you. Georgetown. You got in, right?”

Karen bobs her head, face flushing. How she wishes Ms. Campbell hadn’t announced it to the whole room. “Yeah. They’re offering me a journalism scholarship.”

“No. Way.” Julie smiles at her – a fake, plastic smile. “Locking yourself in the newspaper office after school paid off. You’re going to escape this shit hole.” The girl pauses. “Does Todd know?”

…

Karen takes a little trip down memory lane thanks to some of the clues Frank has left for her…

Happy Thanksgiving Kastle fam🍁 Whether you celebrate or not, know that I’m grateful for all the awesome storytellers and readers and fans in this group!

[marvelmusing]

Warnings [18+]: fem!reader, thigh grinding, fingering, threesome kinda, husband!Billy and wife!reader

A/N: just a little idea I had, not extensively proofread, for this little drabble I was picturing bodyguard!Frank and his boss CEO!Billy

-

Blinking tiredly, you wander down the corridor in search of your husband, pulling the soft fabric of your bathrobe tighter around your body.

“Billy? You coming to bed yet?”

His suit jacket has been abandoned somewhere, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to reveal his forearms as he rests them on his knees, leaning forward to examine the papers strewn over the coffee table in front of him.

He shakes his head.

“Not yet, honey. Still gotta finish a few things off still.”

With a frustrated sigh, he threads a hand through his dark locks, ruffling the usually picture perfect style.

“Can I stay with you?” you ask.

He doesn’t respond verbally. He simply nods and scoops up a pile of papers to clear the spot beside him on the couch. Instantly you move over to him, straddling his thigh instead of occupying the spot by his side.

“Hi Frank,” you mumble against your husband’s shoulder.

The bodyguard gives you a slow nod of acknowledgment from where he’s standing at the side of the room.

“Mrs Russo, ma’am.”

The bathrobe you’re wearing protects most of your modesty, as the hem of your silk camisole slides up your thighs. Going without panties means there’s a wonderful prickle of friction as you drag yourself over your husband’s thigh.

When he hears you sigh, Billy places his hand on the small of your back, his warm palm providing a gentle pressure to encourage you.

He presses a kiss to your neck and you shiver.

“Sorry for keeping you up, baby.”

“It’s okay. I know what I signed up for, and I’m proud of you.”

The feeling of Billy smiling against your neck sends a thrum of warmth into your chest. He presses a more lingering kiss to your pulse point. His lips work softly whilst the scrape of his facial hair has you inhaling sharply.

He grins as your breathing becomes heavy and you realise you’ve been grinding yourself down over his thigh, a heady buzz of pleasure overtaking your body with each roll of your hips.

There’s a small ding from Billy’s laptop and his grin fades as he reads over the words. Absentmindedly, his hand trails over your breast, squeezing lightly as he continues to read.

Tilting your head aside, you watch your husband as his dark eyes scour over the screen, a muscle in his jaw flexing. His expression darkens as he slips his hand between your thighs.

When he slides a finger into your wet pussy, you gasp and the corner of his mouth lifts as he circles his thumb casually over your clit. A small moan catches in your throat as he curls his finger inside you.

Occasionally, when he becomes too absorbed by whatever he’s reading, his motions slow to a maddening pace. With your fingers grasping at the thick fabric of his expensive shirt, practically drooling over the fabric as you lean heavily against him, you know Billy is aware of the state you’re in.

Rocking your hips forward, you attempt to get his finger deeper inside you, to nudge against the spot that has you clenching tightly around his digit. Panting frantically against his ear, you become more and more desperate with each passing moment.

Whimpering, your body is clawing at every scrap of pleasure that tingles over your clit and thrums up your spine. A hazy cloud of need fogs over your mind as you chase your pleasure.

Then Billy pulls his finger out and a near sob heaves at your shoulders as you cling to him.

“Frankie. C’mere,” he says.

His hands settle on your waist, giving your hips a squeeze before he trails his hands over your bare thighs. He nods to the space beside you on the couch and you feel the furniture shift as Frank sits down.

“Take care of my wife, would you? I gotta close this deal.”

Billy presses a kiss to your cheek before you’re being passed over to Frank, settling yourself down onto one of his firm thighs. His hands are wider than Billy’s, his fingers thicker as he reaches for your clit.

As soon as he circles the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, you buck your hips forward with a force that surprises you.

Frank smiles down at you.

“There we go, atta girl. He got you close, didn’t he?”

Nodding mindlessly, you accept Frank’s firm touches as your husband stands with his phone to his ear. Billy threads a hand through your hair as the dial tone rings, then he pulls your head back, tilting your face up for him to kiss you hungrily.

When he pulls away you’re breathless, toes curling with pleasure as Frank mouths over your bare neck. Glancing up at Billy drives the remaining air from your lungs.

His cheeks are flushed prettily and his lips are cherry red as he uses the finger that had been inside you to wipe away the gloss of your saliva from his lower lip.

He keeps his eyes fixed on yours as Frank lowers the straps of your camisole and begins to suck on your nipples. Whoever he’s calling appears to answer at this moment, as he says into the phone,

“Billy Russo.”

Eyes fluttering closed, you breathe out a soft moan, freezing when a finger is pressed against your lips. As you open your mouth, Billy slides his finger over your tongue and you begin to suck on the digit with a satisfied hum.

Billy grins wickedly down at you as he continues his conversation over the phone. His tone is firm and you clench hard around Frank’s finger whenever your husband’s frustration leaks into his voice.

Frank’s teeth scrape over your sensitive nipples and you writhe at the onslaught of sensation. Being filled from both ends has you dripping over Frank’s thigh, making a mess of his trousers. The slick sound of your arousal against his finger has a burning blush flooding over your skin.

Billy watches you with darkened eyes as you trace your tongue down the length of his finger. When you close your eyes to avoid his gaze, he removes his finger and grasps tightly onto your face, squeezing your cheeks together to force you to hold his gaze.

All the while, Billy talks sternly to whoever is on the other side of his call. Every time his tone shifts into something curt and commanding you clench around Frank’s thick finger and whimper at the rush of pleasure it gives you.

Tears prickle in your eyes as heavy gasps heave at your chest. Frank presses down harder on your clit and a moan catches in your throat. Billy tightens his hold on your face and a burning rush of humiliation warms your cheeks as he raises a brow in warning.

Eyes fluttering closed, you clench tightly around Frank’s finger, griping fiercely onto the front of his shirt as you near your climax.

“Billy,” you whisper in a near broken plea for permission, curling one of your hands around his wrist for support.

He nods and you fall apart.

[celestialspecial]

I Still Do

Thank you for 700 followers!!!! You guys rock- thank you for making me realize how much I love writing and being so loving and supportive of my work.

*places a kiss on each of your foreheads*

18+/Sexy timesss

The book lay heavily in your hands. Thick cardstock and glossy full color pages bursting to life with each page turned.

You’d sprung for the fancy package, because why not? A matte black hard cover with gold embossing delicately scribbled across the front in some fancy schmancy font that one would usually associate with wedding invitations.

Those days had passed and they’d been fun enough. The planning, the excitement but while your friends had ooed and awwed over floral arrangements and cake choices you instead looked forward to other things.

A future with the man of your dreams. While you did find yourself giggling and joking with them about the trials and tribulations of marriage, it felt different. It felt right. 

A lightness and a rightness in saying ‘yes’ to him.

That had been years ago and while, yes, there were some rough days. Some highs and lows. It still felt easy. Even those winding roads and unexpected things felt easy to navigate by his side.

Lately work had been consuming Billy’s every waking moment. Days chock full of meeting after meeting. Paperwork, spreadsheets, traveling, the whole gamut.

Even now as you peered around the corner into your bedroom he sat on the edge of the bed, laptop opened and furious typing filled the room.

His eyes roamed over the screen and a small wrinkle formed between his brows as he scowled at what was before him. You stood there peeking in on him, the book now behind your back, as you watched him.

His eyes never left the screen as he continued typing but his voice rang out, startling you a bit.

“Are you gonna stand there and hide or are you gonna come and save me from writing out another god forsaken email?” 

You couldn’t help the chuckle that rushed past your lips.

“I’m out of view! How the heck did you see me?” His eyes still remained on the laptop but you noticed the way the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“I can hear you.”

“I was being quiet.”

“Quiet as a bulldozer.” You made a huff in faux anger as you walked over to the edge where he sat.

“That’s what I get for marrying a marine I guess.” 

At that Billy’s eyes did leave the email he was angrily pounding out to look up at you. Hand reaching out and softly running the back along your jaw.

The sensation tickled and sparked something in the pit of your stomach. His dark eyes darted to the side then back to you.

“What’s behind your back.”

“Put away the laptop and I might show you.” 

You’d never seen a work device shut and tossed aside so quickly. He grinned up at you, patting the bed next to him, smoothing a few wrinkles out of the duvet cover.

Coaxing yourself onto the mattress and pulling one leg to cross the other you quickly pulled the book around, holding it tight to your chest. Only the blank back cover showing.

He raised a brow, curiously inspecting the mysterious item. Waiting for you to proceed.

“I hate to the be the person on the receiving end of what sounded like a scathing email you were typing out.”

“Some people don’t understand gentle nudges.”

“You’ve been working really hard recently.” At that his interest in the book cooled as he looked briefly away, running his fingers through the dark locks on his head.

His hair had grown out longer, and his usual scruff was slowly morphing into a full beard. He’d barely had any time to eat let alone go to the barber.

It was unlike him. You joked that he was vain, but was there really anything wrong with wanting to keep up one’s appearance? Especially when one was the CEO of a booming corporation.

“I have, but I promise I’m going to start delegating more. It’s just these new recruits are all green and I can’t afford to have any mistakes. And I-“ he paused taking in your sympathetic face.

“And I don’t want to talk about. I’m here with you right now.” The grin returned to his face as a finger reached out and he tapped against the back of the book. “And I want to know what this is.”

Your grin turned feline, allowing the top of the book to drop down so he could grasp one end.

Billy’s eyes ran over the front cover, zipping back and forth before darting up to yours. His lips had parted ever so slightly and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“Is this…what I think it is?” 

“Well if you already know I guess you don’t have to look at it then.” You moved to take the book back but his grip held firm, tightening against the spine.

He pulled it another inch closer to him.

“You’re gonna be in big trouble if you don’t let me look.”

“Why do I feel like I’m already in big trouble?” 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you could see his resolve starting to melt away. A hungry look began to grow in his eyes, fixated on the cover.

It was too good and part of you wanted to drag it out longer but your poor husband. He was practically aching to look, so you let your hand drop and he immediately pulled the book into his lap and flipped open to the first page.

Then the second. The third. The fourth. With each page turning you could watch the lust seem to grow brighter and brighter in his eyes. 

His breathing turned shallow and the tips of his ears had begun to turn the slightest shade of pink. After a long drawn out moment he spoke,

“When did you have this done?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His hand shot out and grabbed ahold of your wrist. Tight and unyielding, until his thumb began to brush over your own heated skin.

“I think…you’d better tell me.” 

He flipped to another page, then another. 

“This one….this…God-“ he cut off, fingers drifting over the paper before him, twitching as they held the page between his thumb and forefinger. 

Of course he’d focused in on that one. Not that you weren’t watching him now slowly losing it as he took in photo after photo of you.

A girlfriend had mentioned getting boudoir photos done before her wedding and there sparked an idea in your head.

Sure you two weren’t newly married, the honeymoon phase gone years ago. And yet the flame burned just as bright between the two of you. 

There wasn’t a freckle, divet, or curve on you he hadn’t seen. Not a crease or mole he couldn’t place and yet as he devoured the photos from your own boudoir shoot it was as if it was all brand new.

The traditional lingerie shots had been fun, Lacey numbers that had way too many straps but looked gorgeous on camera.

A few of you surrounded by books, a white button up haphazardly falling off your shoulder as you held a book in your hands, a steamy romance novel. Eyeglasses dangling from your mouth.

The one he stopped on had been you, on your bed, Billy’s suit jacket draped over your shoulders. Covering enough, a satin thong sat on your thighs and you had one of his work ties pulled between your legs.

Your face, one of ecstasy, and you remember taking the shot and half telling the photographer not to leave it in. It had felt so raw and your cheeks turned pink when you’d seen it on their camera.

You remembered the thoughts you’d had to conjure up to make that face. Billy’s face pressed between your thighs, his moans drowning out your cries. 

Billy beside you now, seemed to be humming with energy. He wasn’t physically shaking but you could see him nearly hanging on as his eyes scanned over each and every page.

After he’d consumed the entire book, and gone back about three times, he landed again on the tie picture. 

Before you could ask if he liked it, a thought that felt silly and yet you’d never given a gift like this before. He was up and at the dresser, rifling through one of the drawers until he came away with a dark navy tie in hand.

“Was this it?” He asked, holding the swath of fabric. How he’d examined the image with the accuracy and precision only a marine could, of course he knew exactly which tie you’d used. 

Your mouth barely open as you nodded. Not a split second and he was before you, knees bumping against yours as he held the item of clothing out, draping it around your neck and leaning in.

Fingers grasped your chin holding it in place as he lowered his eyes to meet yours.

“Recreate it.”

“W-what?” You couldn’t help the stammer that had escaped you.

“This picture. I want to see what it looked like, in real life.” You laughed at that.

“Billy-“ but you could tell from the way he was looking at you, a hunger so divine and untainted that you felt a shiver slither its way up your back. Heat pooling between your legs as his grip tightened ever so slightly on your chin.

Realizing you were the instigator of this situation your hands pulled the loose t shirt you were wearing off, tossing it to the side. Followed by your pajama shorts and socks.

You turned away from him to unclasp your bralette, “I’m gonna need your suit-“ but as you looked back around he was standing there holding one of his dark suit jackets out to you.

One hand over your chest and sticking your tongue out at him before pulling it over your shoulders. Glancing at the lining you realized this was the very same jacket from the photo.

“How did you..”

“It’s one of my custom tailored pieces.” You were still facing away from him but you felt his hot breath by your ear as his hand slid down the back of the fine material, giving your rear a squeeze in the process.

You squeaked at that before realizing. The underwear. You didn’t have them anymore. The dryer decided to eat them, tearing the satin fabric and creating quiet a mess to clean from the filter for you.

“I don’t have the thong anymore.”

His hands roamed over your back and along your waist, kneading at your sides as he let his head rest in the crook of your shoulder. 

“That’s ok, do it without them.” You felt the heat bristling under your skin. Pinpricks of pleasure running just under the surface. You wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Instead you pushed away from him, letting his jacket cover your butt as you squatted down enough to get your much less sexy underwear off. 

In your last attempt at a playful jest you tossed them over your shoulder at Billy who caught them effortlessly. A shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Letting one of the leg holes swing around his index finger playfully.

“Encore!” You shook your head at that before resuming your place on the bed as you had been on the photo shoot. 

You could feel his gaze resting heavily on you. Every part of you.

Removing the tie from around your neck, wrapping slightly around your knuckles once then on the other hand letting the silky fabric come to rest between your legs.

The cool touch of the fabric grazing against the sensitive spot between your legs made you shudder softly.

“How’s this?” You asked, begging for the silence to be broken as you watched Billy, his whole attention focused on you. 

“And make the face.” He said. A little to casually for your liking. Because of course, he wanted to see the whole scene played out.

You tried imagining the scenario again but being out on the spot, it felt so inorganic, so forced. He could tell.

“What if I helped you out?” The saliva in your mouth had fully dried up at this point. Help? “Close your eyes.”

You couldn’t stifle the halfhearted giggle you made as you said his name.

“Close.” 

You did as he said. Eyelids drifting shut, licking your lips in anticipation. Not quite sure what his intention was.

You felt the warmth of his hand closing over your ankle, rubbing soft circles on your skin.

“Do you remember when we went to the beach up in Michigan?” 

You nodded, licking your lips nervously.

“The way the breeze was..warm and inviting. And we had a cabin with our own private beach?” His hand moved up your leg to rest on the inside of your knee that was planted on the mattress.

“And when we got tired there was a patio with a hot tub overlooking the water as the sun set.” You could feel where this was going.

“And I seem to recall a few days where we didn’t even leave the bed.” He ran a finger up and down your thigh, depthless eyes looking up at you. Oh he was wicked.

“The way the sheets would get all tangled up and I could smell the fresh air in your hair. Feel the heat on your skin where the sun kissed you a little too much. How your lips tasted-“

The need swirling around in your stomach and that desperate desire to feel him inside you started to fire within every nerve. 

“How did my lips taste, Billy?”

“Which ones?” His hand didn’t rise higher to where you needed him, but you were dying for contact, friction, anything.

Two could play at this game. Pulling the tie up tighter between your legs, not even feeling guilty for the gasp that left your lips at the soft drag of it against your body.

Billy’s eyes watched with rapt attention. You could feel the tell tale signs of pleasure building with each glide of his tie, certain you’d need to toss the thing aside before you soaked through it.

“And when we did finally leave the bed it was only so I could bury myself so deep into you on the beach that not even the waves and wind could drown out your screams.” 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan, begging for release.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You didn’t need him to say it outright to know your face matched the picture. The same feelings coursing through you now were the ones you’d envisioned when taking the shot.

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tie, sweetheart?” The words had you grinding  onto the fabric, but that wasn’t what you wanted. 

It took more willpower than you’d care to admit to toss the tie aside, grabbing Billy by the shoulders and pulling him onto you as you both dropped onto the duvet and pillows.

Your mouths collide in a kiss only described as feral. Desperate to touch and taste each and every part of each others mouth. His tongue sliding against your own and you hear him groan loudly.

His hands brushing your hair away from your face, pieces caught up in the crossfire of your kiss. His palms coaxing the jacket open and running along your breasts.

Chest heaving you arch up into him to show your displeasure at his continued teasing. You can feel the hardness pressing into your thigh and you line up to grind against him fully.

The hiss he makes thrills you and is only amplified when you feel him grab a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back to expose your neck to him.

He licks a line up the column of your neck before pressing a scalding kiss to your jaw before working his way back down. 

“Torturing me with those photos.” He murmured as his lips continued to lavish along your collar bones then along the swell of your breasts.

His body settling into the cradle of your thighs and you pushed up again dying to feel his cock, hot and pulsing against you. 

“Someone is eager.” He huffed out, a smile playing across his face as his mouth continued its devilish work sucking on one of your nipples. The other under the palm of his hand. 

“Billy, I swear to god…please.” A weak plea answered with a roll of his hips against you and you felt dizzy with desire.

Your mind felt fuzzy and in that haziness you managed to free one of your arms, letting it drift between your bodies. Pressing firmly to where his pants had become unbearably tight.

The sound he made as you stroked the front of his pants sent electricity shooting up your spine. All these clothes needed off. Now. 

Any other day Billy would be even more tortuous, drawing out your pleasure but tonight after viewing that picture book he seemed in just as much a rush as you.

Fumbling over remaining clothing, ripping open buttons, unzipping and sliding out of his suit jacket eventually he was just as bare as you.

Capturing your lips in another toe curling kiss. His scent filling your nostrils and your own hands tangled up in his hair and the sheets. 

“Please please-“ you could feel him pressed against your thigh, the silky hardness so close to where you needed him.

You feel his hand caress the side of your face once more, turning your face so your eyes meet his fully. His expression is enough to undo you. Passion mixed with awe, tenderness and thrill.

And people say married life is boring.

No words need exchanged as you feel him slide home, stretching you slowly. You swear you can feel each ridge and vein on him. Forcing air into your lungs as you feel him fill you up completely.

“How’s my girl?” He asked placing a gently kiss on your temple. His body hovering just above yours.

“Good.” You say rather breathless. Mind unable to focus on anything beyond him within you. How his body seemed to melt into yours perfectly.

His hips slotted against yours and then a gentle rocking. Your eyes squeezed shut, relishing the push and pull, hips rising up to meet each arc and rock.

It’s delicious, but not enough. Faster, deeper. Your ankles cross behind his lower back, pulling him even closer to you as he grinds into you. 

Billy grunts as he begins to pick up the pace. Your body feels heated, his hot breath next to your ear, then a few open mouthed kisses to your pulse point on your neck.

Filling you up deeper and deeper. Your moans match alongside the noises he’s making. You can tell he’s close the louder he gets.

Your mouths move against one another, desperate longing. He rocks faster and faster. Claiming your mouth and body all at once.

Your orgasm snuck up on you, slowly swirling through your entire essence then you lost it all at once. 

Sweating, breathless, holding onto Billy for dear life as you said his name over and over. His hips continued their relentless sway carrying you through your bliss.

Then it was his turn to join you. Pushing off from the bed, holding you tight against his chest as he emptied himself into you. A loud groan followed by expletives and final few thrusts.

Both of you toppling off to the side, panting heavily. You moved to wipe a few pieces of sweat soaked hair from his forehead, then placing a kiss to the now clear spot.

You found yourself mesmerized by his dark lashes, watching them flutter as he took in a full breath. Cheeks no longer ruddy and red but fading to a softer pink.

The two of you laid there in silence, coming down from the post climax high. Basking in the afterglow, the only sound your breathing coming back to center.

After a moment Billy turned to you, his fingers brushing up the length of your arm.

“Thank you.”

“I’d say I got a little something out of it too.” You chuckled, running the back of your buckles over his cheek. He laughed in response.

“I meant for the book, but yes also this.” You snuggled closer to him, just enjoying being in his arms. Yes, married life was bliss.

The next morning you rolled over still groggy from sleep, a satisfied ache between your legs. Billy’s side of the bed was empty but you could hear him moving about getting ready for work.

Sounds of the coffee pot being turned on and that delicious aroma wafted in from the kitchen. A moment later you saw him standing in the doorway, anvil mug in hand as he took a sip of the fresh brew.

“I’m heading out. Coffees on. I promise not to be too late tonight” he grinned as you sleepily nodded, bed head and all. He lowered the mug and with a wave turned on his heel, the front door closing behind him.

[saintedcooper]

Francis (Frank Castle x Reader AU)

New York, 1949. You’re a waitress trying to find your place in the world and get your footing at your new job. That is, when you’re not being very distracted by the handsome, mysterious writer who frequents the diner.

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Content: Some language

Length: 2,761 words

Notes: Age is not explicitly stated but reader is grown, she’s in her mid-30s. She’s something of an anomaly at the time, being unmarried.

Additional notes at the end.

------------

Chapter 1: Beginnings

“You like the quiet?”

It’s a foggy New York afternoon and Maurice, the diner owner is busy delivering plates and taking orders. His white shirt is damp and clinging to his thick form as he hurries as fast as his stocky legs will take him.

I hurry to keep up with him as he darts to a table in the corner with an arm full of plates.

I definitely overdressed for the interview. I’m wearing a long burgundy coat dress, white tights, and a pair of pumps borrowed from my new roommate. The air in the joint is thick and sticky. I swear my curls are falling by the minute.

“Can’t remember. I’m the eldest of six kids. I haven’t known quiet since my oldest brother came home from the hospital.”

Maurice finishes putting the plates on the table and throws down extra napkins.

He dramatically bows at the table and pulls at an imaginary bow tie.

“Bone appy-tite,” he says before turning on his heels and rushing back behind the counter.

“Great, kid. I need you on the sad shift.”

Maurice makes his way to the coffee pot and groans, it’s nearly empty. He looks around, seeming to miss something.

I spot an extra coffee pot behind the counter and shrug. I’ve clearly already got the job. I pull my gloves off and brush past the still-searching Maurice.

“Sorry, the what?”

I set about making a fresh pot of mud. Maurice looks impressed.

“The sad shift, you know. Drifters, widowers, divorcees.”

He makes a dismissive gesture, “Weird writers. People that ain’t got nowhere to go even after midnight. You’d work the 8-5. Kitchen closes at 2ish. You’re basically just fillin’ coffee cups for the last part.

“They won’t give you no trouble and the tips are great. Real easy goin’ bunch, it’s just the girl who was on that shift got herself in the family way and well, here we are.”

The coffee’s finished brewing and I take the pot to start refilling cups.

“Sounds good,” I tell Maurice over my shoulder.

“Great! You start tonight. Go home and get some sleep.”

-------------------

It didn’t take long to realize Maurice was right: the late shift is quiet.

I started that night I got the job and got the hang of it pretty quickly. It wasn’t long before I knew everyone who’d come through on a typical night.

Over the past few months, we’ve settled into a nice rhythm.

It’s intimate being with people in the hours between night and day. They open up to me, they tell me about their struggles, and I get to listen.

Tonight, the patrons are spaced out between the bar and corner booths, like normal. Each of them smoking so much that there’s a persistent thick cloud above the joint. I sometimes felt like the only person in the world who won’t touch the stuff, but working here now I’m not sure it matters anyway.

I’m standing behind the counter, hip cocked and head resting in my head, looking out at the city.

The diner’s filled with the usual suspects. All except one.

I spin my watch around to look at the time.

He’s usually not this late.

I know, I shouldn’t have favorite customers. They’re all great, they tip well, and they’re nice.

But there’s this one guy, a writer. I noticed him early on.

Name’s Francis.

He comes in damn near every night and is impossible to miss. He’s gorgeous, well-dressed, and polite. And he always smells like a pine forest after it rains.

He’s nice to look at and good to talk to but we’ve always left it there. He mostly stayed to himself during my first few weeks here.

Then, on my way to work one day, I walked out of the train station and into a freak storm. It started hailing out of nowhere, loud and cold and I was absolutely not dressed for it. I threw my bag over my head and started running the last blocks to the diner.

But my pump caught a big piece of hail just wrong and I rolled my ankle.

Next thing I know, I hear this familiar deep voice behind me say, “You alright, sweetheart?”

I turned to find Francis holding his hand out to me. I took it and winced as I tried to get up to my feet.

It hurt, I leaned to one side as I stood there.

“Ah, think I tweaked it.”

I bent to rub a hand over my ankle and found it slightly swollen.

“You headin’ to work?”

I nodded. “Yeah. But walkin’ there’ll make it worse and so will walkin’ home and—”

Francis hefted me over his shoulder like it was nothing and my whole body heated up. I covered my face with my bag.

“Oh, goodness! Francis, really. I can walk. Slowly, but I can do it.”

"Nah, sweetheart. Can’t have you makin’ it worse. It’s no trouble.”

No trouble for him, maybe, but terrible for my attempts to stave off a full-blown fascination with the guy.

He carried me four blocks to the diner.

I was so mortified I started asking him questions to distract myself from the embarrassment.

I learned that he was a writer. He wrote a lot of pulp but he was working on a novel, had been for three years. He mentioned his wife using her job as a secretary for a construction company to bring him story ideas.

“She was no damn good at it,” he said with a laugh. “She said one day, ‘Vinnie threatened to break a guy’s knees today and it made me wonder if you could write something about how knees can feel fear.’ Just completely missing the point every time.”

I laughed along with him.

“Was? You two break up?”

Francis didn’t respond for nearly a block.

When we reached the diner he said, “’s complicated, sweetheart. Let’s get some ice on that ankle.”

That was months ago and since then we’ve pretty much settled into our routine. I only think about him throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes once, maybe twice an hour.

Everything’s normal.

Tonight I managed to get the cook, Tom, to keep the kitchen open a bit longer for Francis but his patience is wearing thin.

There’s steam coming through the serving window as Tom pours boiling water over the utensils, preparing to close the kitchen for the night.

“Sorry, toots,” he says with a grin. “Your boyfriend ain’t comin’ tonight and I’ve got shit to do.”

He shrugs and turns away.

I pick at the varnish on my nails and give a dramatic roll of my eyes. “He ain’t my boyfriend, Tommy, and you know it. He’s just a nice payin’ customer who gives great tips. You know I’ve gotta go see my sister soon ‘fore she pops that kid out.”

Tom's throaty laugh rings through the diner and he appears in front of the serving window again.

“Hey, baby, no disrespect to her but I’d say the 5th time you shove one out we can stop with the fanfare, eh? I mean, sheesh, they startin’ a football team?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and stifle a giggle. She’s across the country but I swear to god, I laugh and she’ll know it.

“Be nice, she’s my sister.”

“Yeah well, you’re the one who got all the sense. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

Tom throws his hands up, an empty, steaming pot dangling from one of them, and goes back to his cleaning.

He’s not wrong. They’ve been turning out babies like lovin’ was going out of style since he got back home from the war. One a year.

It’s what she wants and I’m happy for her. But it smarts a bit sometimes. I helped change her diapers but she beat me to everything a girl’s supposed to do. We couldn’t afford college when it was my turn but I worked my ass off to make sure she got to go to Bryn Mawr.

Then, just a few months after classes start, she goes on a day trip and catches the eye of some square-jawed, bronzed god fresh out of college. The next thing I know she’s banging on my door at 3am covered in rain shouting, “Bunny, you’ll never guess! We’re engaged! Don’t tell mama but Johnny has a lead on a job out west, we’re eloping! Don’t hate me?”

Then she kissed my cheek and dragged her damp ass out the door and into his big, stupid Packard.

They don’t refund tuition when your sister lands a god and drops out after 6 months, by the way.

Mama did always say she’s the worst little girl in all the world and—

The thudding clank of the bell on the door stops the spiral, the sharpness of it reverberating through the quiet space.

We all know who it is but every head turns to look. My breath catches in my throat.

Francis Castiglione steps through the door looking good enough to eat in his suit with a gray hat sitting low, shading his face. He nods to the familiar faces around the diner.

I stand up and smooth down my dress just as he catches my eye. His lips tug up into a little grin and he’s headed my way.

God, my throat feels like wool. I swallow and spin around to grab the coffee pot, a mug, and a saucer.

Francis glides into a seat at the counter.

“How you doin’ tonight, sweetheart?”

I throw a quick smile over my shoulder as I finish pouring his coffee.

“Real good, Francis. And you?”

He groans, low and deep.

The sound shocks a little gasp out of me and I pray he didn’t hear it.

“It’s uh…heh. It’s been a long night, doll.”

I grab a stirring spoon and head to the counter with his coffee. He’s taken off his hat and the harsh light he’s sitting under illuminates a face full of angry-looking scratches.

I forget all about the coffee, gasping and throwing a hand over my mouth. Coffee spills out of the over-filled up and drips down the cup and saucer, some spilling onto the floor.

“Francis! My goodness, what happened?”

Francis reaches out with swift reflexes to grab the tipping coffee from my hands. He places the saucer and mug on the counter and licks his coffee-wet fingers.

For a moment, I forget all about his scratched-up face, eyes focused on the peek of his tongue darting out to lick the coffee now running down his hands.

I’m gawking at him like a schoolgirl and of course, I’m caught. He holds my gaze while he slowly licks up the side of his hand. He smirks at the top.

“Don’t worry bout it, sweetheart. It’s no big deal.”

My cheeks flush and I nod.

“Right, sorry. I just— it’s hard to not be distracted by you.”

I make a flailing gesture with my hands.

“And then the coffee and you — how you got it up and. I lost myself, I apologize, it won’t happen again.”

Francis does his best to hide his laughter behind his hand.

What’s he laughing at?

The deep frown on my face makes him lose it. He throws his head back and howls with laughter.

“Hey! What’s so funny?”

He tilts his head back to me, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. I meant this,” he gestures at his face. “You asked and I’m saying it was nothin’. Not talkin’ about you oglin’ me.”

Oh, good lord. My face heats up like a Looney Tunes character who just guzzled a pot of boiling water.

Francis is a gentleman, though, now doing his best to stifle his laughter and save me the embarrassment.

I hide my face behind one of the bar towels.

“Oh, Francis, I’m so embarrassed.”

He waves a hand at me.

“Ah, don’t be. I’m only teasin’. It’s nice that you were worried about me.”

He takes a sip of what’s left of his coffee, looking at me over the cup.

“’sides, it’s good to know I’m distractin’.”

My face is still warm but I’m trying to calm down. I use the towel to pick up the coffee spilled on the counter and floor.

“Well, I am concerned. What the hell happened to you?”

“Eh, just uh, wrong place, wrong time. But you should see the other guy.” He waggles his eyebrows and it gets a laugh out of me.

“Honestly, who gets into fisticuffs with a writer?”

”Sheesh, you ain’t never read much Hemingway, huh darlin’? We writers are a scrappy bunch.”

He downs the rest of his coffee.

“It’s all the insecurity.”

I walk down to the small sink behind the counter and wash out the towel.

“Well still, I don’t like it. How did it happen?”

Francis waves a hand and shrugs. “Nah, doesn’t matter much. Tell me about you. You still savin’ up to go see Jeannie?”

I scoff.

“Yeah.”

I take the rest of the coffee pot around the diner, topping up the cups as I respond.

“But now I’m wondering why. It’s her fortieth kid for christ’s sake. She could teach a seminar on not keeping your legs closed.”

One of the regulars laughs as I finish my rounds and head back behind the counter.

“It’d be more impressive if she didn’t end up pregnant every year. Meanwhile, I’m here in the greatest city in the world staying in at night and on weekends to go see another one of her fat, sloppy babies? That jerk Johnny makes a fortune and I have to buy my own ticket on a sweaty bus for four days? It’s a goddamn shame!”

I slam the spent pot into the cradle of the machine.

“God! Fuck. her!!!”

I let out a scream. The patrons all politely appear enthralled by the wood grain on their tables.

“Hey, hey,” Francis leans across the counter to turn my shoulders around. He rubs at them in a gentling gesture. “Hey, it’s all good, whatever you want. You ain’t gotta explain nothin’ to no one, least of all any of us.”

I glance around at the nodding heads in the diner.

“You do what makes you happy.”

Francis rubs his hands down my arms, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

“I don’t want to see her. She makes me feel awful.”

Francis nods, giving me big puppy dog eyes.

“Then don’t. S’your life, kid.”

He pats my shoulder and sits back down in his seat.

I slump over the counter and hide my head.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

“I work here, I’m supposed to be professional and —” my eyes widen…shit.

I pop my head into the serving window and Tom’s nowhere to be found. The counters and cooktops in the kitchen are pristine. He’s gone.

“Francis! I’m so sorry, I tried to have him wait for you but he said he had plans, and let's be honest, as long as he’s payin’ the plans would still be there even if he’s a few minutes late, and—”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart,” Francis calls for me to come back to the counter. “S’alright. Promise. Missin’ supper once is not gonna kill me. Might do wonders for this book I’m writin’, though. Really get me into the head of a starving artist, ya know? Maybe more people’ll buy it if I can make myself extra miserable in the process.”

“Oh, don’t say that.”

“I’m teasin’, darlin’. Don’t be so serious.”

I flush. There ought to be a law about how many times you can call a girl sweetheart or darling before she starts to get ideas.

He makes me feel like a girl again.

Francis fixes me with a stare. Neither of us breaks it as the seconds stretch on. He licks his lips and leans into me.

“C’mere, I wanna tell you somethin’.”

“What?”

He gestures for me. “Just c’mere.”

I lean in closer, the warmth of his breath rustling the delicate hairs of my ear.

He gets closer still and whispers, “I don’t come here for the food.”

I’m frozen and flushed while he grins his face off. He shakes his head and reaffixes his hat, pulling the brim down low again. He pats the counter and I realize he’s moving slower than normal as he heads to the door, favoring one side.

He gives me a final look across his shoulder.

“Night, sweetheart.”

The bell rings loudly through the space and then, quiet.

-----

Part 2

Let me know how you feel about this duo in the replies! Reblogs + asks welcome, too. How do you think reader will handle Frank's little declaration? Do you think she'll press him further on how he got injured?

I'd also love feedback about readability! Is it clear and easy to follow being in first person present?

If you're experienced as a beta or editor, feel free to drop me a line if you'd be interested in helping me edit future chapters.

[akvzz3u8xs]

Turbanli yasemin cam show Novio gay video coje rico SMOKING HOT ASIAN SLUT RIDING ALIEN DILDO IN BATHROOM (Like, Comment, Subscribe!) SRM College girl boobs play Older tranny oses control and rips her ass with giant cock Up close dildo play with my pussy (onlyfans) Precise penis examination involves anal banging Gay male studs in jeans having anal sex and gypsy movie Kinky Fuckers Pakistani teen porn boys ass and free young straight companions first Free lesbian porn episode

[depressedbagpipe]

"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter three

Words: 5286 Warnings: coffee i guess (me knowing just too much of it, btw go drink some water instead), billy being a little mafia-ish, owen being a lil shit, harper knowing too much, dana being a bit of a pain in the ass, A/N: this took way too longer than originally expected, so thank you for waiting <3 life's been getting a bit busier yet I'm learning how to manage my time better, fingers crossed that i know how to do that haha. btw i completely made up the name of the coffee shop so if it turns out it's a real place, let me know cause i don't want to be sued xd Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

Series Masterlist Previous chapter &lt;;> Next chapter

Chapter three

‘Two cappuccinos for table three, please.’

‘What’s the deal with cappuccinos, anyways?’ I said while grabbing two clean mugs, and quickly putting them on the coffee machine behind me.

‘Guess you’re good at them,’ Harper winked at me as she grabbed a clean rug and dried her hands with it.

‘No, but seriously, I like cappuccinos too but like, last time I prepared thirty in a little over an hour. I mean, is that healthy? And this is coming from someone who loves coffee!’

Harper laughed at my antics. ‘It’s a nice brewage! People just like cappuccinos,’ she shrugged, disappearing through the door and into the kitchen shortly after.

‘If they only liked tipping better…’ I mumbled.

‘I heard that!’ Harper shouted from the other room.

‘Damn it.’

My hands moved automatically as I prepared the drinks, carefully decorating the foamed milk on the mug and making sure not to spill anything as I took them to the couple sitting by the door of the café.

They barely acknowledged me when I set their cappuccinos on the table, giving a short nod in my general direction without taking their eyes off each other.

Rolling my eyes, I walked back to the counter, noticing that no new customers were waiting to be attended to. I sighed deeply, looking around the bar, busying myself with cleaning anything in sight, if only to have an excuse to avoid Billy’s dark frame on the corner, directly facing me as he pretended to read a book.

His Americano had definitely gone cold long ago, but he still took careful sips, his tongue occasionally making an appearance to lick the remains on his lips. It was a true sight to behold, but every time my eyes darted to him, his were already fixed on me. He had a sixth sense of knowing when someone was looking at him.

Harper had even complimented his eyes, which would only inflate his ego more.

‘What?’ she had asked after noticing the glare I sent her. ‘Your boyfriend’s cute.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’

‘Well, he certainly keeps looking your way,’ the older woman winked at me.

‘Yeah, that’s not it at all,’

‘Whatever rows your boat,’ she only laughed at me as she kept counting the money at the register, making me sigh deeply.

I absolutely adored Harper. She had taken me in the second I came stumbling into her café, wet from the sudden downpour and in heavy need of a job. Despite having no experience brewing coffee, she had thrown all reason out the window and given me a safe place beside her, becoming pretty much my sole source of income. Many hours had been spent between those four cozy wooden walls, hundreds of steaming mugs passed along, and thousands of faces asking for a drink before going on with their lives. And despite the stress and the neverending shifts, and the too-sassy personality of its owner, HarpBrews Coffee had become my second home.

My phone pinged in my pocket. Discreetly grabbing it, I peered at Owen’s message, stating he would soon be walking through the door. I took a deep breath checking the hour on the big grandfather clock on the side of the café. The afternoon rush hour had already ended, yet a few customers still came for their boost drinks before heading out to the Friday nightlife they loved so much. Unfortunately for me, I still had a few papers to write, and a late shift to cover, all while the exhaustion of having slept four hours was starting to take a toll on my body. 

Putting my phone away, I caught Billy’s eyes on me again. He was slowly turning the book's page, not even bothering to pretend he hadn’t been caught. I raised my eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. Only when he leaned his head to the side I finally walked up to him.

‘Doesn’t your butt hurt?’ I asked, grabbing his empty mug. ‘You’ve been sitting there for three hours without moving.’

‘It’s been three hours already? Wow, time does fly when you’re having fun,’ he smirked, checking his expensive wristwatch and widening his eyes.

‘You’re hilarious. You should audition for the circus, I heard they’re running out of clowns,’ I said with a shake of my head.

Billy put down his book. ‘Amazing wordplay, ten out of ten,’ he clapped slowly, but the mischief in his eyes didn’t leave.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ I asked him, hoping not to hear his comeback.

‘What’s your specialty?’

‘Cappuccinos, apparently.’

‘Sure, let’s see what the fuzz is all about,’ he said, leaning back again on his chair and picking up the book.

I sighed, walking back to the bar and preparing, yet again, his own cappuccino.

‘Please, don’t spit in it.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Russo,’ I called back, making sure to keep a smile on my face after noticing the many heads that turned my way. 

I internally groaned, already knowing some of them would be leaving immediately, their tips long forgotten.

Only when I grabbed the cocoa powder I stopped my hands. I held the plastic template in between shaky fingers, debating whether or not Billy deserved some cocoa design on his foam. A small part of my brain was slapping itself at my childish resentment, but an even bigger part was slapping the other for even doubting. It was Harper coming back from the kitchen and seeing me with the cocoa in my hands that made me move, carefully sprinkling the powder on the mug until it took the shape of the open book of the template. 

‘He reads too?’ she whispered when I passed her by, setting the mug on a tray, together with a clean spoon and a napkin.

My stomach grumbled right as I picked it up, the realization of not having eaten anything in a while finally catching up to me. I looked over at Billy, who hadn’t eaten anything either, but this time it did seem he was too preoccupied with his book. I glanced at the small counter displaying Harper’s baking, and with another sigh, I picked up a vanilla cookie and placed it on a small plate, bringing everything to Billy.

He raised his eyebrows once I approached his table, setting everything before him.

For the first time since I met him, he seemed genuinely surprised. 

‘Oh, thank you, Dana, you didn’t have to,’ he set the book on the other edge of the table, eyeing the latte art on his cappuccino.

I shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, you must be hungry. It’s on the house, by the way.’

Nobody said anything else, for the small bell by the door rang, and Owen’s smile greeted me as soon as I turned my head to face the sound.

‘Waddup?’ he took me in his embrace, hugging my waist tightly for a few seconds before removing his arms. He barely moved away, regardless.

‘Hey, what took you so long?’ I asked him, motioning with my head to sit on one of the empty tables nearby the counter.

Owen unloaded his bag on the table, pulled out his laptop and phone, and took a seat as he adjusted his dirty blond fringe that fell unceremoniously over his eyes after taking his beanie off.

‘Sorry about that, Mrs. Russell was on a rant about the newest councilmen appointment and we pretended to be interested in it so she would forget about last week’s assignment.’

‘You didn’t turn it in?’

‘I didn’t do it,’ he said with a shrug, laughing it off.

I shook my head at the boy, remaining silent as the coffee machine whistled behind me, brewing yet more coffee despite the late hour.

‘Latte macchiato for me, please, if I take more caffeine I’ll dig a hole in the floor from buzzing,’ Owen called, his fingers already typing on his laptop.

I laughed at his comment, knowing how many energy drinks he was capable of ingesting over a day. 

‘You sure your heart can bear more of it?’ I asked him, placing our coffees down on the table.

‘It can now that you’re here,’ he winked at me, his eyes focusing once again on the screen before him.

Rolling my eyes, I went into the back of the café to retrieve my bag, ignoring the chime of the bell at the front door.

‘Harper, I’m on my break!’ 

‘Okey dokey!’

Harper’s chirping voice was heard at the bar, welcoming whoever had nothing better to do than having a coffee so late in the evening.

I quickly unknotted my apron and hung it on its respective hanger, pulling my hair out of its bun and pulling my sweater over my shoulders, knowing the lack of movement would become a problem later.

Walking out of the kitchen, I was shocked when I saw Frank Castle sitting down next to Billy, talking in hushed voices. I didn’t fail to notice the third person sitting with them, worried concentration drawn on her beautiful face. 

I walked in hurried steps back to Owen, who was sipping on his coffee completely unaware of the rising tension on the table behind him. His back was to them, allowing me to slide on the opposite seat, getting a clear view of the three adults. 

The sound the chair made when I dragged it back caught the attention of the two ex-marines, who quickly glanced up at me. I waved inadvertently at Frank, still awkward in his presence, but he returned the gesture by silently nodding his head at me.

The moment ended as soon as Harper returned to their table with steaming mugs for the two newcomers, the little party returning to their hushed conversation as if they had been going at it for hours and not just a few minutes.

I shrugged and sat down.

‘Everything okay?’ Owen asked, his eyebrows drawn in concern at me.

I shook my head, not wanting to talk.

‘Yeah, just tired.’

‘Well, I hope you’re not too tired for this because I have no idea where to start and you’re the only one I trust enough to partner up with.’

‘Always the charmer, Owen,’ I sighed, opening a new tab on my laptop, and quickly typing down the topic of our latest academic torture.

‘Don’t get me wrong, I love working with you. But I love pissing Malcolm off even more.’

‘You guys did one project together weeks ago, you surely can’t keep the feud up.’

‘He’s an asshole. It’s his fault we failed.’

‘And now he’ll hate you forever after selling him out.’

‘He deserved it.’

‘Really rough strategy.’

‘Well, I’ll have my lawyer call his lawyer.’

‘You’re your own lawyer, Owen, this is why we’re doing this in the first place.’

Owen took a few seconds to reply, his fingers stopping over the keys while he arched one eyebrow at me. ‘Someone’s moody.’

I sighed once again, already feeling a faint thump appear at the back of my head. ‘Look, I don’t wanna mess the project up, and I barely got any sleep last night, so please, can we just… concentrate on this? So we don’t have to pull another last-minute all-nighter the day before the due date?’ 

My pleading seemed effective, for Owen raised his hands in the air and apologized before returning to the task at hand.

‘Alright, alright. Look, on the way here I read a few articles that could be helpful.’

‘Cool, text me the link, and I’ll give them a quick look.’

‘Not so fast, loca,’ he laughed to himself. ‘You gotta do something for me first.’

‘Wow, not five minutes in and you’re already blackmailing me? New record.’

I was staring at him through heavy lids, knowing his plans usually ended in disaster.

‘This one’s good, I promise.’

‘Spit it out, then.’

‘I text you the articles, and you go on a date with me tomorrow.’

The sweet taste of my mocha latte turned suddenly bitter. Loud coughs left my mouth as the liquid burned my lungs. From the rim of my eyes, I saw Billy and Frank’s eyes on me, their posture tense, ready to pounce. I shook my head, only I didn’t know who it was meant for.

‘What the actual fuck, Owen?’ I managed to ask between coughs. 

He glanced up innocently as if we had been talking about clouds.

‘What? ‘

‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I am. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while now but it never seemed appropriate.’

Owen was now stirring his beverage a little too nonchalantly, but the little tick in his fingers made the spoon tremble ever so slightly.

‘And you think now is appropriate?’

My voice was a little hoarse, and my throat burned slightly, but I was determined to put the boy in his place.

‘It was a joke, Dana, you don’t have to be so defensive all the time!’ he brought the screen down and rested his elbows on the table, staring into my eyes. ‘Look, maybe this wasn’t the right way to ask you out, but I promise, I’m not kidding. We work well together, and you’re pretty hot, and I think we could make a nice couple if you’d give me chance.’

I stared at him for a while, scanning his face, looking for any indication that he wasn’t being genuine. I found none.

‘Look, Owen…’ I wanted to reply, but he cut me to it.

‘Just one date. If it goes well, we’ll see what we do from then. If it goes wrong, I won’t bother you again,’ he raised his hands again. His body moved as if he were trying to appease a looming beast. His eyes, though, held a confidence I had barely seen before.

‘Just one. After we’re done with the project,’ I added as soon as his lips broke in a giant smile. They quivered slightly at the afterthought but nodded his head fervently regardless.

‘Deal.’

‘Will you send me the links now?’

‘On it.’

···

We mostly worked in silence after that, only breaking it to share a few comments here and there. Harper had thankfully filled in, going as far as allowing me to double my break so we could get some work done.

‘Alright, so I’ll keep researching this and you write the rest?’ Owen confirmed.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, it honestly won’t take me long. On Monday we can meet up again and go over the next point,’ I said, rubbing my eyes.

The little mascara I had applied in the morning had certainly worn off during the day, but I didn’t care. I was too exhausted, and I still had another hour to fill.

‘Sounds great. You going out later? Jeremy said he was throwing a party,’

‘I don’t think I’ll be alive by then,’ I said in a low voice, closing down my books and putting everything away in my bag. 

‘Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Me either.’

‘I’ll text you tomorrow. If the summaries aren’t on the shared file in the evening, feel free to call and scream at me despite my future hangover,’ Owen said with a short hug.

‘Will probably do,’ I answered back as he waved and left, the café almost too silent with his absence.

Only the small party of three refused to leave their seats.

‘Everything alright over here? Can I get you guys anything?’ I asked them, knotting my apron behind my back with practiced expertise, and pulling my hair up once again despite the strain in my arms.

‘I could use an espresso,’ Frank said, looking at me with somewhat of a smile.

‘Me too, I’m in for a long night,’ the woman replied with a kinder tone, giving me a wide smile.

‘Dana, this is Karen Page, one of the best lawyers in town and a close friend of ours,’ Billy spoke up.

Realization dawned on me as I stared at the woman, my eyes widening.

‘Oh, my gosh, I’m a huge fan of your work,’ I shook her outstretched hand a little too enthusiastically, but she didn’t seem to care.

‘Thank you, I’ve heard a lot about you too,’ she grinned.

She stood out, sitting in front of both men, with kind eyes and sweetness of manner, despite knowing how deadly she could be in her field. She truly was someone I admired dearly and had quickly become one of my main motivators to become a lawyer. 

Going back to the bar to prepare their orders, Harper tapped me on the shoulder.

‘You’re seriously gonna date the lanky kid over that greek god?’ she whispered while she untied her apron.

I rolled my eyes at her. ‘Yeah.’

‘Did you bump your head this morning?’ she rested her hands on her waist.

‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you,’ I wasn’t looking at her anymore. ‘That greek god over there is old enough to be my father.’ 

‘But he isn’t, is he?’ she wiggled her eyebrows. ‘How am I the oldest here? You should be out having fun on a Friday night with the fine specimen that has been eyeing you the entire evening, yet you’re closing down the café,’ she threw her hands in the air, her voice a little louder.

I shushed her, noticing Billy’s eyes on us for a few seconds. 

‘Yeah, well, I’m trying to be a responsible adult,’ I shrugged, pouring the hot espresso onto two smaller mugs.

‘Hell, I’m a responsible adult and still go out,’ Harper waited for me at the bar as I brought the mugs back to Billy’s table.

‘Thank you so much, Dana!’ Karen grinned appreciatively at me, quickly bringing the mug to her lips.

‘Careful, it’s still a bit hot.’

‘It’s perfect, thank you,’ she winked at me, making me chuckle softly at her before returning to Harper’s side.

‘Look, I just want you to have fun once in a while,’ Harper went back at it. 

I looked down at my feet, wishing to escape the lecture she was about to give.

‘I know, and trust me, I do have fun,’ I said.

We were no longer whispering, but the place was too deserted for us to care.

‘Reading at home is not the kind of fun I’m talking about,’ she sent me a pointed glance.

‘Well, I’m happy being by myself, Harper. I don’t need as much social interaction as everyone seems to think I do,’ I sighed, busying myself with cleaning the coffee machine, somehow knowing no one else would be ordering anything else for the rest of my shift.

‘Dana, I know your life hasn’t been easy these past years but you still deserve to be young and have fun. Hell, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but maybe going out on a date with Owen isn’t a bad idea. At least you’ll talk with someone your age for once,’

‘Hey, I talk to people my age all the time,’ I defended myself.

‘Your classmates don’t count. I mean friends, Dana, actual friends. Not just colleagues, or neighbors, or even me.’

‘Harper…’

‘I know, I know. You’re happy. I just worry about you, that’s all.’

‘Well, don’t. I promise there is nothing to worry about. Now off you go, I know your secret man is waiting for you,’ I gently pushed her out of the way in the direction of the main door.

Harper smiled almost shyly at me, some color going to her cheeks.

‘Alright, I’m leaving. The kitchen’s clean, all that is left is the main part,’ she said, zipping up her coat. She let her hair down, making her look even younger, and matching her lively personality. ‘Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.’

She opened the door, not without turning the Open sign backward to show the Closed written on the other side.

‘Won’t do,’ I was basically pushing her away. At least one of us would be having fun tonight.

‘Oh, and tomorrow don’t bother coming, I’m giving you the day off. You know where the check is!’

She turned and ran to the other side of the street, expertly avoiding the cars and walking with a happy strut.

I sighed, almost relieved at her absence, basking in the silence of the café despite the still low conversation taking place at the far end. Closing the door and drawing the curtains, I walked back to the kitchen, grabbed the cleaning supplies, and walked to the front yet again.

Billy caught my actions, walking to me as I started wiping the tables and bringing the chairs on top to wipe the floor.

‘You closing already?’ he asked me directly.

The sudden sound almost startled me. Hearing him address me after hours of nonexistent conversation had left my skin bare. The pounding in my head seemed to diminish slightly.

I shook my head. ‘I’m just cleaning out. I still got another thirty minutes, you can finish whatever you guys are doing.’

He nodded unconvinced, yet walked back to his table.

My body moved automatically, my mind blank and my eyes laced with exhaustion. I noticed Billy’s table full of papers and binders, with Karen scribbling down every so often. Some part of me wondered what they were working on, but then I remembered. The less I knew the better.

Shaking my head, I did a once-over, checking everything was clean and back to its respective place. With only ten minutes to go, I whisked my phone off my pocket, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, and wishing time would pass by faster.

‘Hi,’ Karen suddenly spoke before me. I jumped a bit in my place, not expecting to find the woman with her and Frank’s empty mugs on the counter. ‘Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to bring you these. The coffee was amazing, by the way, the best I’ve ever had,’ she smiled at me.

I grinned back at her. ‘Aw, thank you. You don’t have to lie, though, there’s better coffee out there,’ I said, quickly washing the mugs and leaving them to dry.

She shook her head. ‘No, really, it was amazing. From now on I know where to get my daily dose,’ she winked again, her good humor instantly lifting my mood. 

‘Well, we’ll be waiting with open arms,’ I laughed softly, immediately liking the idea of seeing her around.

For a split second I wondered how she could be friends with someone like Frank and Billy, but then again, how could I be friends with someone like Harper?

‘Well, I don’t know if Billy told you, but I’m also working on your case,’ she slid her hand over mine, her warm fingers wrapping around my hand and squeezing in sweet comfort. ‘Whatever you need, you can come to me, alright?’ she looked deeply into my eyes.

I froze, not expecting her forwardness, but nodded in appreciation nonetheless.

‘Thank you, Karen.’

I didn’t know what else to say, but thankfully Frank came to my aid. Or rather, Karen’s.

He slid a hand over her waist, the lightbulb suddenly going on over my head.

‘Really good coffee, Dana.’ 

He nodded at me, always the same short bow of his head. I’d like to think it was our way of greeting each other, even though I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again once all this was over.

‘Thank you, Frank.’

‘We should get going,’ Billy finally spoke. 

I noticed their now empty table was shining, the strong bleach smell coming from the only corner I hadn’t been able to clean due to it being occupied by them. Billy was now placing the dirty rag on the sink.

‘You cleaned it?’ I asked incredulously.

He simply shrugged. ‘It’s the least I could do. I’ve been sitting there the whole time.’

I shook my head in disbelief, opting for grabbing my things. I picked the envelope under the kitchenware cabinet, Harper’s preferred spot to hide my paycheck in case we were ever robbed. I looked at the three green bills, deflating a little despite knowing it wouldn’t be much, but I still put on a smile and raised my head, noticing the three pairs of eyes on me. 

‘You can leave already, I’m just gonna head back one second,’ I said, putting the envelope on the counter and heading to the small room we used to keep our stuff while we worked. Putting on my coat, grabbing my bag, and making sure the lights at the back were off, I returned to the three adults waiting for me.

It felt weird. I wasn’t technically friends with either of them, but the way they all stood protectively in front of me as if I were some defenseless little girl –which I technically was, almost make me long for a stronger friendship. Both men were intimidating enough, clad in dark attire and harsh demeanors, and Karen, despite her softer features, was still a force to be reckoned with. I could only aspire to become half the lawyer she was, and with the three of them in their expensive clothing, with real jobs and real lives, I was brought once again to the reality of the situation.

With a small sigh, I followed them to the door, making sure to close the establishment behind me, suddenly the prospect of going home to the peace I desperately needed broke by the realization of having Billy with me.

‘Well, gentlemen, I better be going,’ Karen said out loud. ‘Dana, it was a pleasure to meet you. I know we’ll be seeing each other soon,’ she brought me into her arms, another unexpected comforting gesture from her. 

Her presence was calming, which I thoroughly appreciated.

‘You too, Karen,’ I grinned at her.

‘I’ll walk you,’ Frank offered. His voice was still deep, and despite his offering, it almost felt like he grumbled his words.

But Karen paid no attention, sending him a warm smile, and interlocked her arm with his.

‘Goodnight, guys. Billy, behave,’ Karen glared at Billy, eliciting another chuckle from me. 

I nodded at Frank before he could, and despite catching him off-guard, he reciprocated the movement, and the two turned the other way and left, Karen laughing loudly at whatever Frank had said.

I stared at the two, warmth filling my heart at the thought of them being together. They sure made some odd couple, but there was no denying the sparkle that filled both of their eyes when they looked at each other. It felt nice, knowing even Frank had someone who could bring the sun into his dangerous life.

Billy coughed beside me, effectively snapping me from my daydream.

‘Ready to go?’

‘Yeah.’

His hand on my back guided me toward his car, thankfully parked not far away from the entrance. He opened the door for me again, his eyes looking around the dark street, before walking around and getting into the driver’s seat. 

I hissed at a particularly big thump of my skull, massaging my temples hoping the growing headache would go away.

‘You okay?’ Billy asked, briefly looking at me before returning his eyes to the road.

‘Just some tension. Hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight.’

I noticed the way his leg pushed the pedal a bit more, the speed of the car increasing. 

‘Then let’s get you to bed,’ he answered.

‘I wanna have dinner first, though.’

He bit his lip. ‘I may have ordered something for us already. It should be ready once we get there.’

I widened my eyes. ‘Billy, you didn’t have to.’

‘You got me a cookie earlier, this is my way of saying thanks.’

‘You can’t compare a cookie to a full dinner.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘For someone with a headache, you sure wanna fight.’

I scoffed, despite the truth in his words. I simply leaned back on the seat and closed my eyes. I felt the passing lights on my eyelids, but the soft roaring of the engine and the silence surrounding us helped calm my racing thoughts.

It was shortly after that Billy was parking the car, the sudden halt making me open my eyes. 

‘We’re here,’ Billy announced but made no move. ‘Am I gonna have to carry you upstairs too?’

With that, I quickly unbuckled myself, almost jumping out of the car and closing the door loudly. I wanted to believe that the warmth in my cheeks was only due to the exhaustion, and not at the thought of Billy carrying me in his arms. 

He followed me into the building, crashing into my back when I stopped abruptly right before the stairs at the sight of the old man with the nastiest scowl.

I winced. 

‘Mr. Morrison, a pleasure to see you!’ I drew a wide smile on my lips, praying that he would leave soon.

‘Miss Jones, you’re late. It’s almost Saturday,’ he glanced at his wristwatch, an almost hungry smile on his face. ‘A few more minutes and I’d have to evict you.’

I knew that’s exactly what he wanted, but I kept in my remarks. ‘And, as promised, here’s the week’s payment,’ I grabbed the envelope, opening it to grab the right amount, and noticing the fourth bill right away. 

I furrowed my eyebrows, knowing Harper hadn’t given it to me.

‘And who’s the rich kid behind you? You know you’re not allowed to bring anybody in without my permission!’ he was fuming. The old man descended the steps, taking the money from my trembling fingers without looking away from Billy.

‘I’m Billy Russo,’ he introduced himself. He didn’t make an effort to extend his hand for Mr. Morrison to shake, though. 

The old man paled instantly. His eyes widened at Billy, who sent him a harsh glare while Mr. Morrison found the right words to say.

‘Oh, it certainly is a pleasure, Mr. Russo,’ he immediately hid the money in his pocket and proceeded to adjust his shirt. ‘What can we humbly offer you on this fine night, Mr. Russo?’

‘Well, I believe you’re exploiting some of the residents in this building complex. I know rent prices went up last month, but nearly not enough to completely leave them with no income,’ he continued.

I was left speechless. I hadn’t told Billy about my ongoing feud for my rent, but as always, Billy seemed to know everything about me and my life. It only reminded me how little I knew of him. 

‘Oh, well, you see, Mr. Russo, Miss Jones here…’ but Billy cut him off.

‘Here, take this,’ Billy grabbed a sealed envelope from a pocket inside his expensive jacket. ‘And if you happen to bother Miss Jones again, I’ll make sure the finest lawyers of New York City know about the many irregularities that take place here.’

He looked at him with that stoic yet fierce glare, the same look he had used with me in the interrogation room just twenty-four hours before. It felt like a lifetime, and it once again showed the many sides to Billy Russo that I wasn’t aware of.

Mr. Morrison only shook in his place, taking the envelope with shaky hands and lowering his head, moving aside to let Billy walk by and up the stairs.

I followed after him, too stunned to say anything at first, but with too many questions swirling around.

‘Did you extort him?’

‘I bought him.’

Silence.

‘Did you leave the hundred dollar bill on my envelope at the café?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why?

‘Just a tip.’

Silence, once again. We reached the door to my apartment, heavy silence following us into the dark entrance.

‘What were you reading earlier?’

‘The Picture of Dorian Gray.’

‘How fitting.’

Next chapter

[hb-writes]

It's Fine. I'm Fine.

Summary: Lenny has a fight with her boyfriend and ends up at Billy's door, but he's not home and she's without her key. Though Lenny insists she's fine by the time Billy arrives, he knows better.

Characters: Billy Russo & Lenny Falconio (OC)

Request (from 💜 anon): “Stay there. I’m on my way.” & “I could really use a hug right now.” For The Punisher or Twilight, you choose, pretty please 💜

Content Warnings: mentions of an argument with a partner. I feel like I should also note this series will eventually be a Billy x Lenny story and there's a bit of an age gap (~6 years) between Billy and Len in this AU.

Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Anvil's second in command continued talking as Billy pulled his eyes away from the computer screen they were sharing. He glanced down at the cellphone buzzing beside him, a familiar smiling face taking up the screen. 

It was late—he had come back to the office to debrief the latest job and to do a quick run through on the strategy for tomorrow’s event, but that would have to wait now. He waved Wilkens out of the office as he swiped to accept the call. 

“Hey, Len,” Billy said, shifting the phone to his ear as Wilkens closed the door behind him. “Everything alright?”

“Are you home?”

“Not yet,” he said. “Everything alright?” 

Lenny hadn’t answered his question the first time around, and a silence stretched on in the wake of his second iteration. A subtle tension prickled through Billy’s limbs as he waited on her to answer, but if Lenny noticed, she didn’t pick up on it, too caught up in her own prickling limbs and anxious thoughts. She had no intention of speaking more than she needed to, not quite sure how to put words to all of it as she swallowed the lump settled in her throat and nodded her head. 

“Len?”

“Yeah?” she mumbled, as if she’d been lost and Billy’s voice had brought her back, as if he had tugged on some kind of tether. 

Lenny had already known Billy wasn’t home. She’d already tried the bell before calling his cell, but it was wishful thinking that somehow he was home and simply hadn’t heard her, wishful thinking that there was nothing more than a locked door and a few rooms between them now. 

“C’mon. Talk to me,” Billy said. He wouldn’t tell her she was making him nervous, making him want to pull up the app in his phone that could pinpoint her location in seconds, the app he knew she’d be pissed to learn about. “What’s going on?” 

“I…um…I…don’t have my key,” Lenny sputtered out. “I…my…we—” 

Her voice broke on the truth and she pulled the phone away from her mouth, trying to muffle the sound as she reminded herself that it was Friday night and that Billy was probably out on a date. A date that she was now interrupting.

“Where are you?” he asked. “The apartment?”

Lenny nodded again, barely conscious of the fact that she needed to actually say something. A quiet affirmation came from her mouth, barely audible on the other end of the call. Billy was already on his way out of his office, already halfway to where his car was parked out in the lot.   

“Alright, stay there. I’m on my way. Five minutes.”

Seven minutes. 

That’s how long it usually took Billy to drive home from the office at this time of night, but that was when he abided by the overabundance of red lights and the stop signs, the things he ignored entirely now as he thought of Lenny alone on his doorstep. 

Lenny could handle herself when it came down to it—Billy knew that, but there was something in her voice, something in her not being able to talk to him that had him worried. Lenny wasn’t acting her usual self. 

If she was, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so worried, so keen on propelling himself in her direction as quickly as he could. Maybe. 

But maybe not. 

Whether she was fine or not, whether she was in a relatively safe neighborhood or not, Billy didn’t love the idea of Lenny standing around outside his apartment by herself so late. It wasn’t an altogether unprecedented event, Lenny showing up at his place without her key. He could no longer count on his two hands the amount of times she’d forgotten it since he first gave it to her. 

People like Lenny were the reason people left spare keys lying around, but Billy didn’t believe in the concept of leaving a spare key under the mat. The security professional in him wouldn’t allow for it. 

He idly wondered what she’d done in the time when he was overseas, and then he thought better of dwelling—he didn’t want to know how she’d managed it, though he couldn’t imagine she’d been going all the way back to her sister’s place to pick up the other spare key he’d left with Maria.

As Billy pulled into the parking spot just in front of his apartment, he watched Lenny wipe at her eyes and take a deep breath. 

“Hey,” Billy called up the steps, taking them two at a time until he met her at the top. “Everything alright? What—”

“I’m fine,” Lenny said, her voice stronger now, back to usual. “I’m sorry I called you like that. Sam and I…we had a…disagreement and I left my stuff and—”

“C’mon, we’ll go—” Billy started, taking a step back toward his car, no hesitation given to taking the ride across the city to her boyfriend’s place to pick up anything she needed. 

“No, Bill, wait. It’s fine,” Lenny insisted, reaching out to stop him, stilling Billy there on the top step with her hand around his arm. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Let things cool off and I’ll go get my stuff in the morning. Really, it’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t need to do anything.” 

Billy nodded. She seemed fine, suddenly a bit chipper sounding, the only evidence of her panicked call five minutes earlier was the reddened, puffy skin around her glassy eyes. 

“You really expect me to let—”

“Let it go?” she started. “Yeah, I do. It was a…just a misunderstanding. And I started it, so just…forget it, alright? I don’t want you to do anything.” 

“Alright, alright.” Billy held up his hands in a mocking forfeit. “You don’t even want me to…unlock the door?” 

“Well, that—yeah,” Lenny scoffed, “but you don’t need to…you can go back to your...I didn’t mean to interrupt your…Friday evening.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Billy sighed. “I was at the office, but I’m done for the night,” he said as he fit his key into the lock and reached inside to flick on the lights, allowing her to step inside first.

“You want something to eat?” he asked. “A drink?” 

Billy felt like he could use one after the rush that was the last ten minutes, even if she seemed fine now as she lowered herself into a seat at the counter.  

Lenny shook her head. Her fight with her boyfriend meant she’d missed out on dinner, but she couldn’t imagine she had the stomach for anything just now.  

Billy went to the fridge to pull out a beer for himself. “You sure?” 

Lenny nodded, wrapping her arms tight around herself as Billy withdrew from the fridge.

“And you’re sure there’s nothing I can do?” Billy set a water bottle across from her and popped the cap off his beer, taking a sip. “It’s no problem. I can have one of my guys—”

“No!” she interrupted, shaking her head. “No. I don’t want you or Frank or one of your guys or anyone anywhere near him. It’s fi—it was nothing. Just a stupid fight.”

“I see.” Billy nodded, taking another sip. “You want to talk about it?” 

Lenny gulped, taking a deep breath before shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’m alright,” she offered, “just an idiot who walked out with nothing other than my phone.”

“Well, it’s a good job you had that, at least. Otherwise you’d have had to send up the bat signal or something.” 

Lenny snorted, rolling her eyes at that though she was grateful for him making excuses for her stupidity, her carelessness. It was nothing more than luck on her part that her metro card, credit card and ID were safely tucked in the card case affixed to the back of her phone. 

“I don’t think it was that serious. It’s fine,” she finally said, reaching out for the water bottle and unscrewing the top.

Billy fixed her with his gaze while Lenny focused on reading the label on the water bottle—some fancy brand that probably cost more per bottle than the beer did. Billy took another sip of his drink before setting his bottle down on the counter. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine and that you don’t need anything, but I could really use a hug right now,” he said, moving around the corner to stand next to her. “Scared the shit out of me calling like that.” 

Tears pricked at Lenny’s eyes as Billy’s words washed over her.

“Billy, I’m fine,” she said, her words quiet once again, barely making their way out.

“I know, I know,” he mumbled, fitting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. “This hug’s for me, remember?” 

Billy pressed a kiss into Lenny’s hairline, readying to let her go before she shifted, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest.

—

Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist