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petertingle-yipyip · 7 months

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

one - deja vu

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

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

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

Word Count: 5, 728

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hadn’t they just been there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breaking the skin earned a whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The suit that would never be there again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was quick.”

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

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

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

“Have you ever felt anything like this before?”

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

“Hmm..”

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

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

“People like me?”

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

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

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

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

“So what’d you say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Curtis’ support group for veterans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” He said again.

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

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

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

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

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

“One and done.” You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Micro… This guy have a real name?”

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

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He had to have still been in shock.”

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

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

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

“Y/N-”

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

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

You simply shrugged.

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

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

“C’mon, Y/N.” She tried again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Special Agent Madani.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do… Y’know, I missed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?” He almost sounded hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yuridovewing · 5 months

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Reading After the Flood now and the whole Leafstar vs Billystorm thing people were arguing about is really just a sign no one has read these books in years tbh

#or at least dont quite get the nuance of the situation #billystorm isnt reckless and dumb and ‘’willing to sterilize his own kids’’ by wanting to take them into a house after a flood #thats a perfectly good concern. but. he was definitely wrong for telling the kits before leafstar. ‘’well leaf couldve assumed-‘#why? why just assume in a relationship? talk to your partners especially abt something as important as child custody #leaf isnt awesome here its definitely dumb that she exiles him over it and gets all kittypet xenophobic #idk they both suck in this situation imo #as for billy stealing the kits. its so funny cause that did not happen #literally its a plot point that they assume he does and he hadnt djfjfjf #wc comics liveread

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marmosetpaw · 2 years

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#warrior cats #wc designs #billystorm #billy #skyclan #starclan #warrior #outside clans #skyclan's destiny #skyclan and the stranger

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wc-confessions · 1 year

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i think tumblr user lockandkeyhyena makes very cool warrior cats animations and is super sexy and cool and you should totally subscribe to his youtube channel post tweet

=^. .^=

#silly billy #lockandkeyhyena #wc #warriors #warrior cats #wc animation

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3catseveryday · 2 years

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day 200 !

#billy :]#violet wc #appledusk #billystorm #warrior cats #warrior cat designs #daily cats #fandom cats #3 meow meows #idk ab violets colors but i got the idea out

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snobgoblin · 2 years

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Chemical X: Chapter 3 Page 7 (Page 25)

#chemical x comic #big billy #ace ppg #ace copular #ace gorillaz #kick his ass buttercup #also tie dye is much easier to do on wc #snake ppg

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lady-murderess · 1 year

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this is why I love the boys twitter page

#the boys #the boys tv #billy butcher #frenchie #twitter #fifa wc #world cup #it definitely isnt coming home

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alixdied · 1 year

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Billystorm!!!

With two flower options :D!

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faetxlity · 2 years

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Cages

Whumptober Day 2: Caged Rated: M for suicidal thoughts, car wrecks, and canon typical violence Billy’s life was defined by boundaries: don’t do this, don’t you dare be one of Those people, don’t talk back, don't be You. But he had his car, a bit of freedom. Turns out that's just a cage too.

The car is a smoking wreck when Steve pulls past, crumpled around a tree near the old steel mill and recent . It’s the kind of crash that has him sure that he’s about to scramble across the ditch and find a corpse, because his life was punctuated by such instances.

No one could survive that.

But he has to check.

***

If you’re dead you can’t hurt anyone and it can’t hurt you. That was the last thought that had gone through Billy’s mind before he pushed the gas pedal as far as it would go and just… let go.

It should have been the last thought he’d ever had but; but you can’t even fucking die right.

The Camaro’s roof is against his cheek and the footwell is twisted kind of around his leg and he’s in pain. He’s in a helluva lot of pain and there’s nowhere to go. His baby is nothing more than another warped cage in his shitty life and he tries to scream only to choke on blood.

There’s a lot of smoke rolling outside of the shattered windshield and he knows then that he’s still going to die, it’s just going to be a lot worse than he’d hoped for. Well, at least it’ll be over . His mind repeats even as his hands are clawing to get rid of the seatbelt. He can’t; it’s stuck. He wants it over but not like this . It was supposed to be easy. Quick .

His leg scrapes against jagged metal and he does manage a scream then as flesh splits to the bone. Something dark in the back of his mind is rolling, screaming at the slow press of heat coming from beneath the hood that is far too close to where they were trapped. The screaming makes him grin bloodily, a small satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one hurting. Billy throws an arm over toward the glove box, fingernails scratching the vinyl as he desperately tries to open it. It pops and falls, scattering contents across the seat and floor. He thinks he might be crying but it’s probably just blood. Blood he could explain to his dad.

There . Cool metal and bone, the little pocket knife was easily flicked open and his wrist only protested a lot when he began to saw through the seatbelt. Out, get out . His vision swims and he hopes it’s from the heat and not the blood pooling in his shoes. Outside someone is yelling. Or maybe he’s the one yelling, screaming at the belt to let go and trying in futility to twist his legs free of the crumpled footwell.

There’s a tree against the driver door and the passenger side is useless but… if he can crawl out the back he’d survive. The smoke was getting darker. Fuck .

The belt frays and splits, freeing his chest even though the rest of him is trapped. Useless .

He laughs, because what else can he do?

He can’t even die right.

Ao3

#billy hargrove #stranger things #whumptober #rated: m #my writing #wc: 500

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oldshowbiz · 2 years

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The classic Hollywood intersection of Whitley and Whitley as seen in the Rod Steiger film W.C. Fields and Me (1976)

#Whitley Heights #whitley ave #hollywood #Filming Location #rod steiger #billy barty #70s Cinema #WC Fields

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petertingle-yipyip · 7 months

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

two - if he had been with me

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

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

Word Count: 7,195

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a bad thing now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always need you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t see him.”

“Okay..”

“I didn’t!” He insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We exchanged numbers and I can give that.”

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

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

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

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

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

The guys both chuckled slightly.

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

“No, I’m proud of you man.”

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

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

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

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

“I do not!” Billy laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Show off.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Curtis nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was going to make things awkward.

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

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

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

Perfect spot for a ghost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that you laughed and the entire room fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She? Who’s she?”

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

“Like her her? Like Exodus her?”

“No, the Queen of England.”

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

“I’m thinking she already did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were in my house?”

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

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

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

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

“Not yet.” He muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

Without saying her name, you knew he meant Karen.

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

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

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

“How’s Red?”

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

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

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

“Does Homeland have the video?” You asked.

“Yeah..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy birthday, Frank.” Curtis toasted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I miss him..”

“Me too.” You finally spoke.

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

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

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

Maybe he was there too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d tell you more if I could but…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm… I’ll break you yet, Mr. Russo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blind spot.” He scoffed. “Really?”

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

“Yeah.. How did you know about them?”

You shrugged a shoulder and turned back to Frank.

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

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

“Okay?”

“What changed?”

“Nothing…”

“No, something’s different.”

“Nothing important.” You urged.

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about your friends?” Frank asked instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m NSA. It’s my job.”

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

“You did what?”

“Nothing, continue.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They turned you into a hitman, Frank.”

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

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

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

“Yeah, anything.”

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

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

“No bullshit.. They die.”

“Fine by me.” You shrugged.

After a moment’s thought, Lieberman answered.

“Yeah, I can live with that.”

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frogkingtheorginal · 3 months

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It's an Fallen Leavs MAP. Idea for all you Warrior Cats lovers out there!

It's a series that maybe someone gets inspired by and decide to make a map from, and if You do just remember to credit properly ❤️

Hmm... Maybe one day when I'll learn to animate I would make this 🤔, who knows, but for now enjoy Billy Talent's great song 😁

#my art #warrior cats #fallen leaves #half moon #Jay's wing #Broken Shadow #rock wc #kinda strong inspired by westeromance book club by shebsart #its a:#A Map. Idea!#wc #Fallen Leavs by Billy Talent #Spotify #traditional art

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taintedcigs · 6 months

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˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch.

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes.

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you.

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you.

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with.

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him.

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone.

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that.

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise.

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him.

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger.

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact.

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now.

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips.

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is.

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out.

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward.

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth.

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical.

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips.

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you.

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.”

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body.

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it.

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier.

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy.

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.”

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win.

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you.

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be.

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship.

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch.

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips.

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body.

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind.

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut.

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him.

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage.

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready.

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat.

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos.

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him.

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more.

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…”

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper.

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him.

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you.

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before.

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious.

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue.

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name.

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling.

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it.

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good.

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise.

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you.

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him.

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor.

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips.

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more.

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind.

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you.

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck.

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor.

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric.

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest.

Asshole.

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache.

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line.

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it.

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk.

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in.

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft.

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs.

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further.

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly.

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue. “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight.

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him.

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane.

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease.

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!”

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner.

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely.

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you.

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down.

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised.

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk.

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe.

The poor boy.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop.

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls.

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone.

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left.

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive.

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