#dashlilymark Tumblr posts

  • ouat-in-spare-oom-of-rivendell
    07.03.2021 - 3 monts ago
    #answered #thanks for sending an ask! #TFPoaBE#TFPoaBE ask#dashlilymark
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  • vetseras
    24.02.2021 - 3 monts ago
    #pls don't lose your hope on me #i am trying my best #dashlilymark#answered
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  • russobarnes
    18.06.2021 - 5 hours ago

    You Had Me (Part Eight) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Since the day I wrote the first piece to You Found Me, I had an idea in my head of where I wanted this fic to go, and I never thought I would end up here, but I truly can't see it ending any other way. This is not the final part, there are two more to go, but this is the true finale of sorts.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 1.9k

    Warnings: violence, death, open ending. Shits going down in this one, folks.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa @broadwaybabe18 @kaqua @odetostep (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    You tightened the last strap around Billy’s waist, pinching the velcro together. He was staring at you, you knew that, but you refused to look him in the eye until you were done. You flattened the strap and stepped backwards, making sure the vest was even against his chest. You bit your cheek and finally looked him in the eyes. “And you’re sure this thing is bulletproof?” You finally questioned him.

    “It’s military grade,” he turned back toward the bed, grabbing the thin black sweater he’d set out, pulling it over his shoulders. “It’ll do the job,” he added quietly. You nodded and watched as he finished dressing, covering the sweater with a thick all-black coat. Definitely looks suspicious. “Leiberman will keep you updated, okay? Don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything but sit and wait.”

    You nodded. Yes, Billy. “Karen’ll keep me outta trouble. I only hope Frank can do the same for you.” Billy didn’t respond to your attempt of a joke, only rolled his shoulders, adjusting a large chunk of metal around his wrist. You’d seen the blade before, and even from a distance you knew how sharp it was. He zipped his duffel bag shut and faced you again, his face stern. You lightly shoved him, “Now kiss me goodbye, Russo.”

    He shook his head, “I have to go, sweetheart.” You bit even harder on your cheek now, nodding again and avoiding his eyes. Don’t you dare fucking cry. He reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere, so no, I won’t kiss you goodbye.”

    You swallowed hard, “Okay, Billy.”

    He let go of your chin and tossed the bag over his shoulder, “I love you, and I’m going to come home.” Will you? He licked his lips and walked past you, his body begging him to turn around and kiss you as hard as possible and until neither of you could breathe, but if he did that, he’d never be able to leave.

    You collapsed onto the mattress, listening to his footsteps as they got quieter, until the front door clicked shut, followed by the sound of your lock twisting. It wasn’t long until Karen made her way to your bedroom, seeing you in your slumped position. Sit and wait. “Why don’t we watch a movie?” she suggested, trying to distract you. “Any movie you want, you pick.”


    Billy shifted uncomfortably in the back of the van, his eyes wandering the screens in front of him and the dozens of security cameras. He couldn’t take his eyes off Rawlins as he made his rounds through the party, talking to potential clients, his potential clients. This should have been his night to show off his hard work, all the years he’d sacrificed to build his company from the ground up, but Rawlins had taken it all for himself.

    “You said it yourself, he’s not leaving until at least midnight. You can relax, Bill,” Frank tried to assure Billy, but he refused to look away. He was going to end this, for once and for all. You were going to be free. “Bill. We’ve got him beat. David found the car he’s driving, what hotel he’s going to, we’re ready.”

    “Will you just shut the hell up Frankie?” Billy spat, finally breaking the eye contact from the screens. Frank’s mouth pressed into a harsh line and Billy glanced back at the cameras. Sit and wait.

    Just after midnight, Leiberman finally intercommed. “He’s getting in the car now, headed in the direction of the hotel.” Frank twisted the key of the van and sped forward, Billy pulling down the black ski mask over his head.


    You didn’t know how Karen was able to sleep through this mess, but there she was, breathing peacefully next to you in the bed. You’d watched two movies, and eventually clicked the television off, unable to put yourself through anymore fake sitcom romance plots. You heard the front door lock twisting and jumped out of the bed, calling Billy’s name. Sit and wait, you did just that. You waited and now he was coming home to you.

    But the man standing on your doorstep wasn’t Billy, he was a stranger. He stood tall, his body wide and muscular, reminding you of Frank. A hint of recognition hit your mind, but before you could question him he grabbed you by the throat, pushing you against the wall. He was cutting off your circulation, deep bruises forming on your skin in the shape of his handprint. His footsteps were loud, Karen wake up, “Your father sends his regards. Deeply saddened he couldn’t be here to do this himself.” You tore at the hand he had wrapped around your neck, your lungs gasping for air as he hung your body inches above the ground. You recognized his voice immediately, Ray Schoonover. You blinked, the vision in both eyes filling with stars, your fingernails digging into his skin.

    He tossed you to the floor, and you knew that the crash was loud enough to wake Karen. You could hear her faint footsteps. You coughed harshly, holding your hands up in surrender, “Please,” your throat was begging you to keep quiet. Schoonover’s head shot up once he heard the other body in the apartment, his calloused hands grabbing you and pressing your back to his chest. You felt the click of his gun against your forehead, your silent tears turning into loud sobs.

    Karen was quick—faster than you would have been. She was already aiming her small pistol at the man, her face stern, but full of surprise. Did she recognize him too? “Castle’s not here, Ray. He’s out finishing the job.”

    “Is that so?”

    Karen looked into your eyes, “He’s gonna make him bleed.” She was speaking directly to you—to what Frank had taught you.

    “If you can’t go faster, you’ve gotta be more precise. Aim for the nose, make him bleed.”

    You clenched your hand into a fist and knocked your elbow backwards, hitting him in the groin. He grunted and you twisted your body, your fist connecting with his nose, Ray’s gun sliding across the hardwood floor. You felt a bone snap within your hand, blood pouring from his wound, but not before he grabbed you again, twisting your arm the wrong way until it snapped. “I guess we’ve reached the last resort.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket, “Pure adrenaline won’t work very well with someone like you.”

    You held your arm to your chest as you crawled backwards, trying to escape his grasp. Karen was dragging you away from him by your shoulders. He lunged forward and shoved the needle into your thigh, making you cry out in pain. You heard Karen’s gun fire, watching as Ray’s body collapsed to the floor.

    Karen grabbed your jaw, the other hand dialing 911, “You stay awake okay? Billy’s coming back, you have to stay awake.” You felt your heart racing in your chest. Stay awake. You nodded and clung to her, calling her name as best you could through your swollen throat. Your vision was already going blurry, your heart pounding.

    “Karen,” you grabbed her shirt, the lightheaded feeling getting harder each second, “Karen, I’m pregnant.” She stared at you with wide, tear filled eyes as you nodded, trying your best to stay conscious, but everything faded to black.


    Billy was approaching the hotel room when a voice came in from the earpiece, “He’s alone, just released his guards for the night.” Frank gave Billy a brief nod and shoved his shoulder into the door, letting it crash down before him. Billy held up his rifle, the bright red light flashing in the dark. Billy ducked as shots rang freely throughout the room, one quick enough to graze his shoulder. He hissed in pain, one hand moving to cover the agonizing wound. The shots continued, but Frank wasn’t fazed. He continued moving forward, the stream of bullets hitting the black vest covering his chest, the large white skull painted harshly against the material, visible even in the darkest room. Frank grabbed Rawlins by his suit, shoving his fist into the mans jaw, a loud groan escaping his lips as his jaw cracked beneath the weight of Frank’s knuckles.

    It took a moment for Billy to recuperate, but once he did, he called for Frank, “Get outta my way, Frankie.” Billy smirked down at Rawlins, who hadn’t said much other than cursing Frank’s name as well as he could from his broken jaw. Billy’s fist clenched around Rawlins neck, dragging his face forward, “You made this nice and easy for us William.” Billy grabbed the side of Rawlins head, slamming it into the brick wall of the hotel room. “I’ve wanted to do this for fucking years.”

    Frank stood back, letting Billy off the reins. This was his chance for revenge, Frank had gotten all he needed. Billy slammed his head into the wall again, Rawlins laughing as the blood poured from his cheek. “You—You thought it’d be this easy?”

    “I knew it’d be easy,” Billy smirked at the man as he blinked through the pain. Billy lifted the ski mask off his face, turning in either direction to show off the scars he had left behind last time. “You got me once, you won’t do it again.” The sharp click of his wrist blade made Billy’s blood rush, holding it against Rawlins neck, “Any last words?”

    Billy didn’t give him the chance to talk before shoving the knife into the mans neck, his gasps of pain only bringing a rush to his body. He pulled the knife out, enjoying the sight of Rawlins grasping at his neck. He inched his face closer to Williams, “That one was from your daughter.” He let go of his hold on the man, letting his body collapse to the floor as he scrambled to stop the incessant bleeding. Billy thought about making it quick, he thought of every way he could make Rawlins suffer, but letting him bleed pleased him the most. Frank stood still as Billy stepped back, pulling out a chair from the table beside the wall, sitting backwards on it as he watched Rawlins shuffle his hands around his neck. He sat still, the smile on his face never fading as the man in front of him bled to death.

    “Hey we’re getting reports of fire and ambulance headed to your apartment!” David shouted into the boys’ earpieces. Billy pushed himself off his chair, pressing down so he could hear better as he stormed out of the hotel room, Frank following behind him asking for more information. “Male suspect is dead, one female is fully cooperative, the other’s not breathing.”

    Billy’s heart stared racing as he ran as fast as he could to the van, “Bill you can’t show up there like this, okay?” Frank grabbed his arm, putting him to a halt. “You’re covered in blood, you hear me?”

    Billy shoved the keys into Frank’s chest, tears filling his eyes, “I told her I wouldn’t say goodbye. I’m not—She can’t die without me saying goodbye, Frankie.” It felt like his chest was caving in. How many times was he going to put you in danger before learning his lesson?

    “Hey Frank—“ David hesitated, “They’re saying on the radios that…that one of the victims is pregnant.”

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #the punisher #the punisher fic #marvel#marvel fic#william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n
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  • russobarnes
    15.06.2021 - 3 days ago

    You Had Me (Part Seven) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: This chapter is incredibly short and I apologize for that, but there was no better place to cut this one off. We're reaching the end, folks.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 1.6k

    Warnings: implied smut, mention of suicide.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa @broadwaybabe18 @kaqua (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    Every muscle and joint in your body was screaming at you to stop. Your legs were nearly numb from how long you’d stood in a bent stance, holding your hands high, fists clenched. “Okay, just like that. Swing your fist forward—no, tuck your thumb—“ This is stupid. You groaned and hid your thumb beside your other fingers, holding your arms out in front of you. Frank grabbed your hand, taking your thumb and pressing it into the rest of your fingers, “You have’ta keep it like this or you’ll break it. Now try again,” he dropped your hand and stood with his arms completely open. You licked your lips, pinching your eyes slightly and lunged your hand outward. Not fast enough. Frank grabbed your arm and twisted it, just enough to make you groan, his leg kicking out and sweeping you onto the ground. You hit the floor with a yelp, staring up at him angrily. “Don’t get mad at me, sweetheart. You’ve gotta be faster, hit harder.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as he held his hand out to you, helping you back onto your feet.

    You wiped off your shirt, “You’re going too hard on me. I’ve never done this before.” You held out your fists, making sure to hide your thumbs. You took a deep breath and tried again, almost managing to hit Frank’s chest before he grabbed your arm. You grunted and pulled your hand away, “Can’t we start off with something easier?”

    “You think Rawlins is gonna take it easy on you? No, he isn’t. Try again,” he held up his hands, palms facing outward, creating a target for you to hit. You’d been going at this for the last hour and not once had you succeeded. He saw you hesitate and called your name, “Try again.”

    You eyed Karen as she watched the two of you, occasionally shaking her head at your stance. If she could do this so well, why can’t I? You punched your fist forward and Frank grabbed it, his large hand wrapping around your knuckles. You scowled and swiped your leg out, quick enough to buckle his knees, a loud crash filled the room when he hit the ground. You threw up your hands, “Holy shit!” Frank chuckled lightly, getting back on his feet. You poked him in the chest, “I totally knocked you on your ass, Frank Castle!”

    “Good job, I mean it. You got me,” he smiled at you, motioning for you to continue, “Go again.” You stretched your hands and clenched them into fists, throwing punches as fast as you could, though Frank easily was able to defend himself. “If you can’t go faster, you’ve gotta be more precise. Aim for the nose, make him bleed.” You nodded and stared at the center of Frank’s face, someone’s definitely hit him there before. “Or the jaw—don’t bother trying for his cheek. That shit isn’t nearly as painful as having your mouth wired shut.” Got it. Your arms were exhausted but you held them high. This was your idea after all.

    You threw your hand outward one last time, but Frank was quicker, knocking you onto your back. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut. That’s going to bruise. You heard Frank curse as he bent down beside you, “You alright?” You nodded and sat up, hissing in pain, but trying your best not to show him how badly that hurt. Frank looked at you worriedly, “We’re done. We’re not doing this anymore.”

    “‘m fine. Promise,” you got onto your feet and rubbed your lower back, “We go again.” This time Karen stepped in shaking her head as she called your name. “Go again.”

    “Absolutely not,” someone called from near the front door. Billy. Shit. “What the hell were you thinking—?” He looked pissed as he stared at Frank, who was now lifting your shirt to examine your injuries. Your back was already bright red, slowly turning into dark bruises; you’d sure as hell be sore in the morning.

    “I’m the one who asked him to help me. If I had done what he said I wouldn’t have…” you trailed off, licking your lips, “It was my fault.” You finally looked at Billy’s face—his dark eyes filled with worry.

    “Billy why don’t you join us for dinner?” Karen cut in, “I made lasagna, and there’s beer, right Frank?” she smiled at him, trying to keep him relaxed. Frank nodded and pulled a few drinks out of the fridge, offering one towards Billy. He looked apprehensive, but accepted.

    As soon as plates were set, you sat down besides Billy, who was already on his second beer. He was apprehensive, his expression looking like a child being dragged into running errands, wanting nothing more than to go home. Why did you even come in the first place, Billy? “Looks great,” he told Karen quietly, licking his lips and digging in. You followed after him, eating slowly, inching one of your hands along Billy’s thigh.

    “My dad..he’s hosting an event in a few weeks—for…for Anvil,” you spoke proudly up until the last word, noticing Billy’s jaw clench. “Some stupid party to raise money, get more clients. I think that’d be a good time to strike.” You picked at your food, rubbing small circles on Billy’s knee. “I bet Leiberman can get us access to the security cameras, maybe even ID’s to get us in the building.”

    “Who the hell is Leiberman?” Billy turned his head toward Frank, “You find a new best friend to tell all your secrets to?” You called Billy’s name, watching him eye you, his head still facing Frank.

    “David Leiberman. He’s not really a friend. He’s an—well he was an NSA Analyst. He’s been helpful keeping tabs on Rawlins.” Frank cleared his throat, “Nobody’s replacing you, Bill.”

    “Sure as hell feels like it.” Billy stood up, grabbing his plate and tossing it in the sink. He motioned towards his face, “No one wants to associate themselves with someone looking like this. Should’a just killed my—“

    “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, William.” It was your turn to shout, and you were fuming. You’d never used his full name, never planned on using it. It felt like something only his mother would have called him, like it didn’t belong to you. Even Billy seemed shocked that you had spoken back to him like that. “I told you everything that was relevant to you. Nobody’s tip-toeing around your feelings, you’re making that shit up yourself.”

    You stood up and quietly thanked Karen for dinner, rinsing off your plate in the sink before grabbing your purse and turning back towards Billy, “Ready to go or do you need to throw a tantrum first?” You watched as Frank hid his face in his hands to keep him from laughing, “I knocked you to the ground once today, Castle, I won’t hesitate to do it again.” He straightened his posture and nodded. You groaned and stormed outside.


    As soon as you walked back into your apartment you made your way to the bathroom to shower. Frank hadn’t gone easy on you, not that you wanted him to, and you were exhausted. You pulled off your shirt and examined the bruises now dark purple running against your spine. Hurts like a bitch. You sighed and turned the water on, stripping yourself naked before you felt Billy’s hands running up your back. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly, checking your skin.

    “Yeah,” you admitted. No more lying to him. “Yeah, it hurts pretty bad.” He nodded as you stepped into the shower, but before you could pull the curtain shut he grabbed it from you, kicking off his shoes. You licked your lips and watched him undress, stepping in beside you. You let your hair soak under the steaming water, Billy’s hands pulling your hips closer to him. “You can’t be too mad at me if you’re tryna fuck me in the shower,” you smirked weakly, letting his hands travel up the side of your waist.

    He guided your leg up on the side of the tub, “I could never be mad at you,” he connected his lips to your neck, kissing you tenderly, “But if I’m hurting you, I’ll stop.” You shook your head and rested your hands on top of his as he made his way placing kisses down your neck, the skin of his beard rubbing against you. You lifted one hand, running it through his scalp as he continued moving lower and lower.

    As soon as the water turned cold, Billy turned the faucet off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, high enough to cover the scars on his abdomen. You followed quickly behind him, drying yourself off. “How long have you been keeping tabs on your father?” he asked, rummaging through his drawers for something to wear to bed. When he finally landed on a pair of sweats he turned to face you as you scrunched your hair in your towel.

    “Never stopped, really. He was silent for awhile,” probably waiting for things to cool down, “They announced his new position with the CIA a few weeks ago. That’s why I’ve been going to Frank and Karen’s; he’s helping me.” You slid on a pair of shorts, watching as Billy nodded but didn’t say anything. “You can yell at me, I hid things from you, so I probably deserve it.”

    “I’m not gonna yell,” he said quietly, pulling the sheets down so he could get in bed. You watched him sadly as you got in bed next to him, curling up against his side, resting your head on his chest. He was quick to wrap his arm around you, rubbing your back softly. “I don’t care that you want practice—I think it’d be good for you. But when I end things, it’ll be me and Frank. I won’t…I can’t have you there.”

    You nodded, rubbing his hand with your thumb, “Okay, Billy.”

    Next Part is Up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #marvel#marvel fic#the punisher #the punisher fic #william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #jigsaw
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  • russobarnes
    06.06.2021 - 1 week ago

    You Had Me (Part Six) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Finally, some peace.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 2.3k

    Warnings: smut, cigarettes/smoking, and mention of abuse

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa @broadwaybabe18 @kaqua (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    Things seemed to calm down as the leaves fell from the autumn trees. Billy didn’t leave the apartment much—well he didn’t leave at all. He’d kept his promise and laid low, watching the news channels shuffle onto their next cycle of New York crime, but not once did he scratch the itch of joining in to wreak havoc. You’d gone back to your work schedule, 9-5 five days a week, and every second you were away from Billy, you missed him more and more.

    He still wouldn’t kiss you, and by this point you’d begun to lose hope that the two of you would ever go back to normal. He could feel when you looked at his scars, your eyes wandering the length of each mark, and even though you told him you didn’t mind how he looked, but nonetheless it always made him cringe. He still had his bad days, but once in a blue moon he’d wake up like you were his motivation to live.

    When you reached your apartment, pulling the keys out of your purse, you could feel the heat of the oven bursting through the door. You tucked your hair behind your ear, pushing up your glasses as you opened the door all the way. You could hear Billy singing quietly to himself, the faint sounds of pots and pans being moved around the kitchen. You set your purse on the table and crossed your arms, watching Billy as he continued mumbling Bruce Springsteen to himself, but the second he noticed your presence he stopped, his body stiffening. “Oh no, please continue,” you encouraged him, “May I place a request?”

    Billy rolled his eyes and turned to face you, “Haha, very funny. I thought you were off at 5?” You tossed your keys onto the counter, jumping on the marble surface, kicking your legs enthusiastically.

    “I was, it’s almost...” you checked your phone “almost five-thirty.” He nodded, looking down at your neck as you fumbled with your necklace. “It smells great, baby.”

    He gave you a weak smile, “Thanks. Practically had to beg Karen for this stupid recipe, but in the end she handed it over willingly.”

    You jumped off the counter and reached for the fridge before Billy’s hand shot out to stop you. “Don’t—“

    You ignored him and opened the fridge, looking into his eyes, “What are you hiding in here, Dahmer?”

    He sighed and dropped his hand as you looked into the fridge. Thankfully, there was nothing bloody in the midst of your food, only a bottle of wine. The label read Mondavi Robert Cabernet Sauvignon and you couldn’t help but grab the bottle. “Billy where the hell’d you get this?” you asked quietly.

    He laughed and walked toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine from it. He turned the label so it faced you, “Is this okay?” You kicked off your heels and tip-toed up to him, scanning the words on the bottle.

    Mondavi Robert Cabernet Sauvignon

    “I—That’s a hundred dollar bottle of wine,” you shook your head, “I can’t pay you back for that.“

    “Same place I used to get my wine. I know how much you liked it, so I thought I would surprise you,” he scratched the top of his head nervously. His eyes scanned left and right, a habit he had picked up since his return, as if he were searching the room for safety.

    You smiled brightly and looked up at him. “It’s perfect, Billy.” You pulled the bottle off the shelf and grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer, quickly opening the bottle. You inhaled the smell, “God, I missed this.” He chuckled lightly and turned around, his face going straight as he flicked off the stove. He set his hands on the counter and inhaled sharply. You set the bottle back down and licked your lips, “Did I do something?”

    He rotated to face you again and rushed toward you, grabbing your cheeks and shoving his lips against yours. You gasped into the kiss, letting him take control of you. Billy slipped his tongue between your teeth, not letting you go until you needed air. You stepped back and wiped your mouth, breathing heavily. “Billy you—“

    He swallowed, “I know.” He kissed you. He inched closer to you again until your back was pressed against the kitchen counter. You kissed him again, harder than the first time and with more intent. Billy slid his hands underneath your shirt, running up your back.

    “Can I touch you?” you whispered against his lips. He gave you a brief nod and your hands mimicked his, sliding beneath his shirt. You lightly ran your hand over the scars, looking into his eyes to make sure you weren’t going too far. He watched you intently as you lifted up his shirt until he pulled it over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

    He was always fit, but since the accident he had taken much more thought into his appearance. The muscle definition was a great distraction from the scar tissue—almost to the point where you didn’t notice the flaws in his abdomen. You licked your lips as you looked at him, your hand rubbing the raised skin on his abdomen. “Is this okay?” you asked, finally leading your hand down, palming his crotch. Maybe now he’d let you touch him in return.

    Billy grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the counter, his lips twitching as he tore at your shirt. You helped him pull it off, your breathing getting harder as he admired your breasts, despite the foot long scar running vertically down your chest. He ran his thumb down the scar, sending chills down your spine. “I’ve never been more glad that you’re wearing a skirt,” he breathed, hitching up your skirt and pulling down your panties.

    You immediately started tugging at his jeans, tearing the zipper and pulling his jeans down to his knees. He fisted his boxers and tore them down, cupping his length and rubbing up at down as you watched him. “You’re gorgeous,” he told you, pumping his cock, “I’ve been thinking about you all day—all year.”

    You nodded, waiting for him to touch you again. “I dream about you all night, touching you.” He held back a groan before he finally stopped rubbing his length, aligning it with your entrance. He pushed himself into your body, and you grabbed his shoulder tightly, arching your back as you moaned his name.

    The stretch burned, but you welcomed it with ease. Within seconds he was riding you on the kitchen counter. Billy picked up the pace, his hands gripping your ass as he pushed further inside of you. You connected your lips with his, kissing him until he started rubbing at your clit, making you pull away as you moaned his name. He felt you clench around him, reaching your peak at the same time as him. His movements became more erratic as he came inside of you, no condom separating your bodies. “Billy,” you breathed, “Don’t stop—“ He rubbed harder on your clit, in distinct circular motions until you were orgasming again, like putty in his hands. You moaned his name, burying your face into the crook of his neck, biting softly on his skin. I don’t want this to end.

    Billy pressed kisses against your neck as he slowed down, letting your body relax. You pulled your skirt back down, adjusting your position on the counter. “You’re better than I remember,” you said honestly.

    He adjusted his jeans back up his waist, tightening his belt, “You think about me a lot?” he smirked, lifting his eyes to meet your gaze.

    You simply nodded, “All the time.”

    He ran his hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear and leaning in to kiss your neck, “I think about you, too.” You grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side, placing small kisses against each scar, pulling back and smiling brightly at him. You reached up and touched the scar that was engraved into his hairline, “Will you ever grow out your hair again or am I gonna have to keep buzzing it?”

    He shrugged, pulling your hips closer to his, “But you do such a lovely job, Mrs. Russo, now why would I want you to stop that?”

    You leaned in, breathing softly into his ear, “So I have something to tug on while you’re fucking me senselessly.” He swallowed hard, his hands gripping your ass tightly. “That’s what I thought,” you smirked. You tilted your head, softly rubbing one of the scars on his cheek, “I missed this—us. You.”

    “Don’t get all sentimental on me, sweetheart,” Billy joked, turning on the faucet and washing his hands, “That shits for the storybooks.”

    You hopped off the counter and grabbed your shirt, quickly putting it back on, “I still want the field—us living in the middle of nowhere with no one to bother us, if...if you wanted that.”

    He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands, avoiding eye contact with you. “You’d still want that with me? Knowing what I’ve done? Knowing I look like this?” he motioned towards his face, then led his hand in front of the scars on his abdomen. You sighed and softly called his name. “I mean it—I get it, you stayed with me out of obligation—”

    You rested your hands on his shoulders, rubbing up and down, “Why are you trying to ruin a great night with us arguing?” You licked your lips, pushing up your glasses, “I didn’t stay because I was obligated to, I stayed because I wanted to. I want to be here with you—drinking your wine, eating the dinner you made me—which smells amazing by the way.” Billy smiled, rolling his neck as you continued. “I want to build an obnoxiously large house in that stupid field and have a dozen miniature Billy’s running around. I want that with you.”

    He raised a brow, “A dozen kids?”

    You threw your head back as you laughed, “Okay maybe not a dozen, but something. Something with you.”


    “So Billy’s not coming?” Karen asked, handing a cold beer to you. She’d invited you out for drinks, insisting Billy could come with, but he refused. You accepted the beer graciously and shook your head, he still didn’t feel comfortable leaving the apartment. She sighed and sat down beside you, brushing her hair off her shoulders. She was wearing the dress you had gifted her many Christmas’s ago, and you knew that by now it was a reoccurring outfit choice for her.

    “He won’t go anywhere, talk to anyone. Frank keeps calling, trying to check in, but he refuses to speak to him. I’m lucky he’s talking to me.”

    “He’s doing more than talking,” she pointed at your neck with her beer, you’d totally forgotten about the tattoo kiss he’d left marked on your skin, claiming you as his. “I’m glad you two are headed back to some sort of normalcy.”

    You tucked your hair behind your ear, “More than that, actually. He’s been reaching out to contractors, trying to set up a team to build us a house.” Her eyes widened. “He’s got all these blueprints, architectural designs. It’s keeping him busy. Won’t actually happen till my father is taken care of though.”

    She scooted her seat closer to the table, “Frank’s been trying to talk to him about Rawlins. Your dad...he’s been promoted. He’s working for the CIA now.”

    You picked nervously at the label on your beer, avoiding her eye contact, “I heard.” You’d kept yourself up to date on your fathers whereabouts, keeping it all to yourself, afraid that if Billy found out he’d go off the rails again. When it was time, you’d tell him.

    “And you didn’t think to tell him? If we can find a gap—“

    “Once Billy knows we have a lead, all this ends. The late nights, the prospect of having our own home...it’ll stop. I just wanted some time to enjoy it, in case it doesn’t last.” It pained you to admit it out loud, the thought that all of this could end again. Rawlins could hurt you again, hurt Billy—or worse. You finally looked her in the eye again, “He wants a family, Karen.”

    Karen’s hand wandered to cover her mouth, “You guys are...?”

    “No—no. I mean, we’re not...I don’t know.” You took a long swig from your drink, “I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. I mean, if he won’t go out in public, what is he going to do once there’s a kid running around?”

    Karen took a deep breath, her hand reaching out to take yours, “You’ll have Frank with you, to finish this once and for all. This isn’t going to end for you, this is just the beginning.”

    You scoffed and pulled a cigarette out from your purse, flicking the lighter, “I’m sorry, but that’s not very comforting.” You inhaled a sharp breath and rubbed your face, “Just because I want this to end doesn’t mean I want my dad dead. I’ll have no family left after he’s gone. My mom died when I was in med school, I never knew my grandparents, all I had was him.”

    Karen grabbed your hand, “Sweetheart, he’s not your family. Sure, he’s blood related to you, but he treats you like shit. He tried to kill you, several times in fact. I know you love him, but you need closure, and I think the only way you’ll reach that is at the end of a gun.”

    You nodded and listened to her closely. She was right—he hadn’t been your father for a long time. “Yeah, yeah you’re right, Karen.”

    Next Part is Up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #the punisher#marvel #the punisher fic #marvel fic#billy russo#william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n
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  • russobarnes
    02.06.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    You Had Me (Part Five) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: I don't know how I managed to crank out this chapter so quickly, but here it is! Lots more angst in this one, but it'll get better from here...maybe.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 2.7k

    Warnings: mention of drugs and drug addiction, descriptive violence, death, and a lot of angst.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa @broadwaybabe18 (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    Billy didn’t know where everything went wrong. He remembered going back to the warehouse, a bunch of girls waiting there for his crew. He had finished countless drinks, smoked countless cigarettes, but when he got his eyes on the white powder laid out in front of Jake, he couldn’t stop himself.

    He heard the music blasting in the background—Runaway by Bon Jovi—one of his favorites. Billy leaned down on the table, inhaling the powder that was offered to him, listening to the roars of his crew cheering him on. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, his mind being split in several different directions. He hadn’t felt this good in years. “How much we’d get?” José asked him, taking a long swig from his beer. Billy sniffed and sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, a large grin forming on his face.

    “At least half a million, maybe more,” he shrugged and leaned back again, wrapping his arm around one of the girls who’d come along for the night. He looked over at her, “God, you’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” She blushed and twisted her body, sliding one leg over Billy and sitting on his lap. Billy couldn’t help but smirk at her, inching his face closer, “You remind me so much of my girl,” he pressed his lips to her collarbone, sucking softly, “Except you’re ten times more fun than she is.”

    She pressed his hips into hers, “Am I?” she reached down and rested her hand on his crotch, Billy swallowed hard at how easily she had turned him on. Sure, she was gorgeous, but she wasn’t you. She’s not you. “We can take this to one of the back rooms, if you want privacy,” she offered, perching her lips outward as she looked down at Billy. Billy grabbed her hand, anger rushing through him.

    Billy seized control of her wrists and shoved her off of his lap, “I’ve got a girl—I...I have a wife.” He stood up abruptly, scratching at his scalp. His chest began rising faster than before, he could feel his chest closing in on him. What the hell was he doing? Billy started pounding on his head, ignoring the woman’s terrified stares. “She—She’s gonna find out. I told her I would do better! I told her—“

    “No way you’ve got some girl waiting for you,” some loser chipped in, “Not looking like that.” Billy’s vision turned red as he stared at the stranger. He reached backward and pulled out his gun, pointing it directly at the man. “Jesus Christ, man!”

    He didn’t know if he had truly lost his mind or if it was the drugs, but he slammed the gun into the side of the mans head, knocking him down bloody, “ANYONE ELSE HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY?!” he shouted, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off his cheek. One of the guys friends stood up, and he didn’t have a second to speak before Billy unloaded on him, shooting him until his gun was empty. “ANYONE ELSE?!”

    The people were staring at Billy, frozen in terror. Only a few of the people had actually run off, the woman seducing him had begun crying. Billy unloaded his gun and tossed the empty magazine, replacing it with a fresh one from his his pocket. He pulled back on the barrel.

    “I’ve got something to say, Bill.”

    Billy smirked and rolled his neck, turning towards the only person brave enough to put up a fight. Frank Castle had never looked more terrifying, aiming his gun at Billy’s chest. “Damn, is it good to see you, Frankie,” he licked his lips, lifting his hand to motion at his face, “You like the new look?”

    Frank shrugged, “Don’t mind the face as much as I mind the people you’re gunning down.” He had to distract Billy long enough for the other guests to escape, and he hoped he was giving them enough time. As quickly as possible, people began scattering one by one out of the warehouse, running away like captives set free.

    Billy adjusted his grip on his gun, pointing it toward the body in front of him, “No—he, he deserved this. He was insulting me, he—“

    “He didn’t do shit to you, Bill. You just wanted him gone.” Frank was stepping closer to Billy, “None of these people deserved what you gave them.”

    “HE DID!” Billy shouted, spit flying out of his mouth, “THEY GOT IN MY WAY—“ He moved the gun back to Frank. His chest was heavy, he couldn’t see straight. What is happening, what is happening, what is—

    “Look at you, Bill,” Frank said quietly, “Look at the mess you’ve made.” He was getting closer, tucking his gun back in his jeans, “You’ve got your girl waiting for you. Let me take you home—“ He stared into Billy’s eyes, “Jesus Christ, Bill, are you high?”

    He shook his head, if he tells you—“I wouldn’t do that to her,” he lied through his teeth, “She deserves better, I can do better—"

    “Billy?” you called softly, stepping around the corner. You couldn’t stop staring at the blood that drenched his clothes. He’d done it again—he’d gone off the rails. Billy stared at you helplessly, his mouth falling open but no words would come out. You could smell the cocaine as you walked further into the room. Part of you wanted to yell at Billy, but the other part wanted to divulge back into your past and get high with him.

    He called your name and you held your finger up to quiet him, “Frank...do what you have to do.” You watched as Frank stepped closer to Billy, clenching his fists. You’d made him promise he wouldn’t kill him, but anything else was on the table. Anything to get Billy back to your place before he could do this again.

    Billy pointed the gun back at him, “You’re not gonna kill me, Frankie. I won’t let you.” Frank lunged forward and blew his fist directly into Billy’s nose, making him groan in pain, falling backward as he clutched his bleeding nose, “YOU ASSHOLE!” He reached for his gun, cocking it and pointing it at Frank, not hesitating to pull the trigger.

    The bullet crashed into Frank’s vest, and although it saved him from fatal damage, he’d still have a bruised rib or two from the pressure. You twisted and watched as Billy prepared to shoot again, running in front of Frank and holding your hands out in surrender, “Billy, stop,” you begged him.

    “THEYRE ALWAYS GETTING IN MY WAY, YOURE ALWAYS—“ Billy lowered the gun as he panicked; He could see it again, the blood dripping from the side of your head. The sound the bullet made when it scratched into your skin, the way you couldn’t even scream out for help before going unconscious. In the split second Billy was distracted with his own thoughts, Frank shoved you to the side and tackled Billy to the ground. You listened to the punches Frank threw at your husband, the audible crack of Billy’s nose as it was crushed beneath Frank’s fist. Billy’s cries went silent.

    You covered your mouth as you sobbed, “Is he dead?” you asked Frank, crawling over to Billy’s bloody body. Please don’t be dead, please don’t be—

    “No, he’s still breathin’.” Thank God. “I told you to stay in the car.” You looked over at Frank, a purple bruise forming just beneath his eye, but it was nothing compared to how Billy looked. His face was covered in blood, cuts from Frank’s knuckles, and if it wasn’t for his chest rising and falling, you would’ve thought he was dead.

    You knelt down in front of Billy, trying to wipe away the blood with your shirt. “I heard the gunshots, Frank. I couldn’t sit there.”

    Frank grabbed Billy by his arms, pulling him over his shoulder. You wiped your eyes and pushed up your glasses, following him back to the car. You stopped briefly when you saw who you could only assume was Jake. You licked your lips and turned toward him, saying nothing, but punching him square in the nose. You grabbed your hand and hissed in pain, watching the blood pool down his face. “Don’t ever contact Billy again or I swear to God I will let Frank Castle finish you.”


    Billy didn’t wake for several hours, and by then, both Curtis and Karen were at your apartment tending to his injuries. “Jesus, Frank, you didn’t have to break his nose,” Karen sighed, helping you wipe the blood off his face and neck. You were quiet, unsure of everything that was happening. “And handcuffs, really?”

    “You didn’t see him,” you said quietly, “You didn’t see how bad it got.”

    Curtis finished up the sutures to Billy’s cheek, just another scar he’d have to look at for the rest of his life. “I don’t know, Karen. He did a lot of bad shit. Maybe this is karm—“

    “Shut up,” you spat at him, “Just shut the hell up for once—“

    Frank called your name, and you shut your mouth. You didn’t have the right to defend Billy after what he had done. Killing over a dozen people in one night. “Bill’s gonna wake up eventually and want to start this shit all over again. We need to sedate him, keep the cuffs on him until he’s calmed down.”

    “He’s not going to calm down,” Karen added.

    You stood up and stretched your now bruised hand, “Out, all of you.” Karen called your name but you shook your head, “Get the hell out, I’m serious. He’s not some monster, he’s in pain and he needs help.” You could feel Billy stirring beneath you, “He needs our help, not our pity.”

    You waited until you heard the door click closed before you knelt down beside Billy again, “You can open your eyes. They’re gone.” You knew he was awake, you could always sense when his breathing changed. You rinsed the washcloth off and rubbed at his cheek, trying to be gentle. Billy swallowed and opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “How are your ribs feeling?” you asked him, tossing the rag back into the bucket beside your bed.

    “Fine,” he mumbled, reaching for his face before the metal secured around his wrist stopped him. “What’s this for?” he snapped, holding up his hand.

    “If you behave I’ll take them off.”

    Billy grabbed at the cuffs, trying to break the lock, “Let me out, you can’t just keep me here!” he shouted at you. “LET ME GO!”

    It pained you, but you grabbed the syringe from off the bedside table, shoving it into Billy’s arm, “Relax.” He fought as hard as he could to stay awake, even going as far as to call you a bitch, but the drugs were quick, and he was once again asleep.

    You had repeated this six times over the next twenty four hours. He’d wake and immediately try to escape. Billy would scream at you, and in turn you would yell back, though your argument was faded by the tears that streamed down your cheeks. It killed you to hold him down like this, take away his freedom, but he wasn’t Billy like this.

    The seventh time he woke up, he didn’t resist. He called for you, awakening you from your spot on the couch. He looked exhausted despite his constant sleepy state, and for once, he looked apologetic. He called your name again as you walked in, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, just let me go, please.”

    “Glad to see the cocaine is getting out of your system,” you said coldly, trying not to think about how much you envied his high. You’re sober. Stay that way. “If I take the handcuffs off the bed are you going to attack me?”

    He quickly shook his head, “No, I swear I won’t—“

    You stayed silent and undid the handcuff that was keeping him tied to the bed. He rubbed his wrist and quietly thanked you. You grabbed his arm and pulled the cuff back on, not keeping him to the bed, but yet not completely free. His hands were struck together, and you could tell how badly he wanted to object, but he didn’t. “You need a shower,” you told him, stepping back so he had room to stand up.

    He stood and looked down at you sadly, “Sweetheart—“

    “Don’t call me that—not when you reek of cocaine and alcohol.” You walked with him to the bathroom, turning the shower on and testing the water. “How much did you take?” You held your breath as you waited for his response.

    “Four or five lines, I don’t remember,” his adam’s apple bobbed impatiently, “You can take the cuffs off, I’m not—“

    “They’re staying on,” you interrupted him, pulling open the shower curtain. You turned back toward him and bent down, unzipping his jeans and helping him get out of them. When you reached for his shirt, he grabbed your wrist.

    “I don’t want to—“ he took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, “I want to talk to you.”

    “Lift up your shirt,” you whispered, finishing taking off his clothes. You caught yourself staring at the deep scars on his stomach, along with the two new ones from his last robbery gone wrong. “Do you need my help or can you handle washing yourself?” He gave you a brief nod and you left the bathroom before you could start crying again.

    By the time Billy was finished, you had ordered take-out, sitting quietly by yourself at the table as you picked at your food. You weren’t all that hungry, but you knew Karen would be pissed if she heard that you didn’t eat something.

    Billy rubbed at his wrists, the handcuffs still bounding them together, as he sat down beside you. You pushed a small box toward him, along with a set of chopsticks. He huffed quietly to himself and tried to pick up the sticks, struggling even to balance them between his fingers.

    You wiped your mouth with your napkin, pushing your food back, “Give me your hands,” you told him. He looked at you. “Cmon, give them to me before I change my mind.”

    He inched his hands closer toward you on the table. You pulled the key out of your pocket and undid the handcuffs, sliding them off each wrist. He rubbed his raw skin again, “Thank you. I won’t—“

    “Just eat,” you quietly started to pick at your food again. Billy hesitated for a moment and started eating, occasionally glancing at you. “How do feel?” you asked him after a few minutes of awkward silence, taking a sip from your beer.

    “Like I got beat by the Punisher.” You snorted quietly and took another bite of your food. “That’s funny, huh?”

    “Not like you didn’t deserve it,” you stood up and grabbed your empty box, tossing it in the garbage can, “If he hadn’t gotten you so well I would’ve added a few more punches.”

    Billy nodded and continued eating, dragging your beer towards him and taking a sip. “I know. I know that I deserve to feel like this, you don’t have to tell me that.”

    “If it were up to Frank you’d be dead. You...you killed over a dozen people, last night. For what? Money?” You scoffed at him, “They had families—people who loved them, and you took that away. I am beyond furious and-and I’m disappointed.”

    Billy pushed the food away from him, leaning back in his seat and watching as you yelled at him. “You weren’t like this before—I know you weren’t. You were kind, and you cared. Where did that Billy go? I know what Rawlins did wasn’t fair, but this isn’t fair either.” He called your name quietly. “I think you’re doing this, all of this, to show him how badly he failed. And I get that, Billy, but if you’re going to go after someone, make it him. Not someone’s wife, someone’s brother, take him down.”

    Billy rolled his neck, “Are you giving me your permission to take down William Rawlins?”

    “I am telling you to get a grip, because the next time you pull something like that, I won’t be here when you get back.”

    Next Part is Up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #marvel#marvel fic#the punisher #the punisher fic #billy russo#william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n
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  • russobarnes
    31.05.2021 - 2 weeks ago

    You Had Me (Part Four) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Billy covering up his problems with sex? No, pfft, he would never. LOTS of angst in this one, sorry everybody.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: Just under 2.3k

    Warnings: smut, mention of drugs and drug addiction, descriptive violence, death, and a lot of angst.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa @broadwaybabe18 (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    You felt him sliding into bed next to you, and although you had no plans to allow this, now that it was happening you couldn’t find the strength to tell him no. You felt his hand slid beneath the sheets and rest on the top of your thigh. You kept your eyes closed, but he knew you were awake. Slowly, he inched his hand further up your thigh. You knew what he was getting at. Neither of you spoke much, but every night for the last week, he’d walk into your room, slide into your bed, please you, and slip back to his spot on the couch.

    “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly, breathing slowly as he inched his face closer to your exposed neck. You shook your head briefly and he moved his hand up even further until he was touching your already moist panties. You scooted closer to him, pressing your back against his chest. He pulled your panties down, rubbing small circles on your clit. You tried to stay as still as possible, letting Billy have his way with you. Not once did he ask for you to return the favor, and every time you tried to kiss him, he’d turn away from you in disgust—not of you, but of himself. You could smell the alcohol coming off of Billy’s clothes. He’d been going out every night since he was healed enough to walk on his own, and you couldn’t stop him. You knew he’d been going to Mc Feeney’s—he said that’s where his friends all hung out, but he calmed your fears, promising you that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. So far he had kept his promise.

    He dragged you closer to him until there was no space separating your bodies, gliding one of his fingers inside of you comfortably, and swiftly adding a second. Your breathing became more erratic as you held back a quiet moan of pleasure. You’d missed his touch more than anything. “I love you,” he whispered against your neck, you could feel the sharp bristles of his stubble rubbing against your skin, “I love you,” he repeated over and over again, as if he didn’t think you’d believe him.

    You nodded, I know, your mouth falling open as he sped up. His hands were as soft as you remembered, but he was much more rough with you, even when he tried to be gentle.

    You felt the pressure rising to your chest as he quickened each movement, and you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips. He curved his fingers inside of you, making your legs twitch uncontrollably. Any ounce of resistance was gone, and he could do whatever he’d like to you.

    You rode out your orgasm as quickly as Billy would let you, but before you knew it he was pulling your underwear back up to your hips and twisting to leave you for the night. Your hand shot out to grab his arm, he looked at you sadly. “Are you okay?” he asked as if he were worried, but his face was emotionless and numb.

    You looked heavenward, trying to keep yourself from crying. “I can’t sleep without you,” you wiped angrily at the tears you couldn’t prevent, “but I am terrified that if I let you in, I’ll fall asleep and I won’t wake up.”

    “You’re here, right in front of me, but you’re not. You’ve buried yourself so deep that sometimes I don’t even recognize you.” He stared at you silently. “And it’s not the scars, Billy—I couldn’t give two shits about how you look, but I miss you.”

    Billy walked over toward the door, gripping the handle and pulling it open but not before he turned back to face you. “I’m right here, whenever you need me.” He didn’t bother waiting around to hear your response.


    The only solution to Billy’s problem seemed to be alcohol. Tequila, whiskey, vodka, anything he could get his hands on that would numb him just enough to keep him from staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’d lost count how many mirrors he’d crushed and how many walls were now dented following his rush of anger, but no matter how many times he did it, he never felt any release.

    Until he went to Jo’s. He knew the area well, thanks to you, but he also knew the hidden things that lurked in that area of the neighborhood. Guns and violence was only part of the equation, and the reputation of drug addicts stemmed from an environment like this.

    He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw Jake, sitting alone basking in his own silence. Like an open book, Billy could read everything Jake was thinking—and it wasn’t good. Downing the rest of his drink as quickly as possible, he made no effort to hide his identity as he sat beside Jake, clutching his hands together and resting his elbows on the bar in front of them.

    “You’re waiting for your dealer, aren’t you?” he asked, getting straight to the point, “Normally, I’d try to encourage you to find a new hobby of sorts, but tonight, I think I’ll stick with you.”

    Jake was scared, Billy could tell by his heavy breathing and the small beads of sweat that dripped from his temples. “You—You want some?”

    Billy’s head finally snapped in Jakes direction, looking directly into his eyes, “I have nothing to lose.” Deep down, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. I’ve let you down before, he justified to himself, what’s one more time?

    Jake reached into his pocket and tossed a small bag onto Billy’s lap, “They’ve been waiting for you. At the warehouse.”

    Billy rubbed the bag between his fingers, still staring at Jake, “I’m headed there next. I found our next target.” Jake seemed to sit up further in his chair. “Group of guys in an apartment complex not far from here. Every Friday night, exactly at midnight, they bring home a bag of cash, at least one hundred grand—for each of us. I’m willing to bet they’d be easy to take down if they don’t see us coming.”

    Billy promised adventure, a lifetime of money no one could dream about having. He’d been waiting for it the last year, counting down the days until a gig like this was available. Billy stretched out his hands over the counter of the bar, “It’s about a quarter to Friday, Jake.”

    Jake smirked down at his can of beer, “I know we’ve had our problems, Billy, but damn do you know what you’re doing.”

    Billy couldn’t hide the smile that had begun to form on his own face, “I always do.”


    He could feel the blood rushing through his veins as he led his crew up to the apartment building. Even after the last heist that had gone terribly wrong, he couldn’t wait to do it all over again. Placing his hand on the doorknob, with the other he adjusted the mask on his face, mouthing “3-2-1...” to his men before forcing the door open.

    Several clicks of guns radiated through his ears, he could almost hear the victims heartbeats as he began shouting. “DOWN ON YOUR KNEES, NOW!” he aimed the gun at the man closest to him, “NOW!”

    Not all of the men were as easily scared as the first. He heard another gun click and a bullet was released into the air, but Billy was quick to avoid the shot. He slid onto the hardwood floor and started shooting relentlessly. Whatever Jake had given him, had done the trick. The release was flooding through him, almost as fast as his adrenaline.

    A few men from Billy’s crew had apprehended two of the victims, holding them in place despite how hard they were resisting. Taking long strides, Billy made it to the back room, aiming a gun and firing at the lonesome employee who was counting the large stack of bills in his hands.

    Pulling his duffel out, Billy shoved the money away, listening in for any signs of struggle between his men. They always liked doing the dirty work for Billy, sometimes he’d give them a higher payout if things went smoothly. It wasn’t about the cash for him, it was the rush. But Billy understood it now, why you liked the rush drugs gave you; It made him feel impossible to beat, unstoppable.

    He heard Jake calling for him, and was quick to finish collecting all of the cash. He pulled back on his gun and made his way to the living room again, but by the time he had made it out there, everything seemed to be back in order. “You got it all?” One of the men from Billy’s crew asked. He saw a bruise forming on Jose’s cheek, but he had solid control over the man in his grasp.

    Billy gave a quick nod and stepped over to where his men were holding one of the victims in place, a large piece of duct tape covering his mouth to keep him from screaming. “Take care of them.” Billy smirked beneath his mask and walked out of the apartment building, listening to the shots that were fired behind his exit.

    “Billy—“ Jake followed after him, “That was...shit! That was great man, I knew you’d redeem yourself!”

    Billy laughed as he wrapped his arm around the soldiers neck, “You got more of that shit at your place?” Jake was quick to nod, satisfying Billy’s need as they headed back to Jakes apartment to finish off the night exactly how it started.


    Even in your peaceful sleep, you couldn’t ignore the pounding. You pulled your pillow over your head, trying to drown out the noise, but the pounding persisted. You groaned as you got out of bed, wrapping your robe around you as you made your way to the living room. The first thing you noticed was the eerie silence other than from outside the door. The couch was sparse, and had clearly not been slept on. You didn’t have time to worry about Billy’s whereabouts before opening the front door.

    Frank rushed past you, “Where is he, huh? I’ll kill that sonofa—“ You hiccupped and looked around, what was his sense of urgency about? “BILL!” he shouted, clenching his fists.

    Frank looked great, and if he hadn’t been so distracted, you would’ve sat there admiring how well he must have been doing this past year. He fit his jacket more snug than before, and his face was clean from any cuts or bruises. You hadn’t seen him this well put together in years, was the Punisher lying low? “I just woke up, Frank, please tell me what’s going on?”

    Frank continued searching the apartment, “Where’s Bill?” He stepped into your bedroom, checking the bathroom and inside your closet.

    “I don’t know, I can’t exactly keep him tied down. He’s been going out every night—to McFeeneys. Probably still there,” you rubbed your eyes, trying not to worry. He’d never been out this late. “Frank?”

    He laughed in your face, but it clearly wasn’t out of joy. He grabbed the remote from off your coffee table and clicked on the tv. You immediately knew why he was looking around so urgently. Video of several men in masks was covering every news channel, large flashing red letters warning New Yorkers to how violent these perpetrators were. Six dead in one apartment. Four more in another. Three deadly robberies in one night, and they had no plans of slowing down. “This the man you want sleeping on your couch?”

    Your hand moved to cover your mouth as you watched the security footage repeat over and over, the sound of bullets ringing through the air, it was almost drowned out by the sounds of screams and cries coming from the people shot and messily left behind. You could see one man standing over one of the bodies in the footage, before his chin rose and he stared directly into the camera. There was no denying who that was in the video—it was Billy.

    “Why would he...” you whispered, your voice cracking harder with each word. Frank turned the tv off and walked around the table, standing only inches before you. His large hands grasped both of your arms as he stared at you.

    “Who is Billy hanging with? Who are these guys?”

    You stared at Frank speechlessly before it came back to you. “Jake—Jake Nelson he was one’a Curtis’s guys before Billy came around.” Frank nodded and let go of his hold on you, but you followed after him when he tried to leave your apartment. “WAIT!” you called after him, grabbing your shoes and running toward him, “Frank I’m coming with.”

    “Like hell you are, sweetheart. You’re gonna stay here and wait for Karen.” You weren’t going to take no for an answer. Out of anger your hand rushed forward, slapping Frank across the cheek. You knew you weren’t strong enough to take him on, but you would certainly try. Frank seized your hands with almost no effort, his voice hardening as he spoke to you again. “The Bill you married is gone. You might’ve survived that accident, but he didn’t.”

    The tears were coming down harder. “Take me with, Frank. I owe him—I owe him my life. Let me fix this.” You were pleading with Frank at this point. If he had gone alone, who knows what the Punisher would do to Billy. You survived a year without him, but for the love of God, you couldn’t stand to lose your husband again.

    “Then take me to where I can find Jake Nelson.”

    Next Part is Up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #the punisher#marvel #the punisher fic #marvel fanfic#marvel fic#billy russo#william russo#jigsaw #billy russo fic #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n
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  • russobarnes
    27.05.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    You Had Me (Part Three) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Billy has been soft for far too long.

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 2.5k

    Warnings: mention of drugs and drug addiction, descriptive violence, minor character death, descriptive medical 'procedures' and just overall angst.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl @supernaturalcat7 @voyevoda-thejoy @blahhhhhhhaaa (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    You slid your skirt up over your waist, reaching backward to zip it up. You turned and glanced in the mirror at your chest, only covered by your bra. You ran you hand down the scar that ran vertically across your chest, remembering all the pain your addiction had cost you.

    You looked away from the mirror and noticed Billy staring at you from the small gap between the door and it’s frame. He had his hands in his pockets, just looking you up and down. You swallowed hard and continued getting dressed, throwing on your blouse and tucking it in your skirt, “I have to go to work until five.” He nodded and watched as you reached habitually at your temple, brushing your hair out to cover the scar. “You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, tv works too. Just… don’t leave, okay?”

    He gave you another small nod, taking small steps closer toward you. You sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding your feet into your heels. Billy fumbled with something in his pocket. “I still have this,” he finally spoke, his voice soft and unsure as he pulled a small chain from his pocket, holding it out to you. “If you wanted it back.”

    You took the chain from him and immediately recognized the embellishment. He’d been holding onto your necklace this entire time. You closed your hand around the charm and smiled, “So you had it all along.”

    “That morning, I saw it on your table. I was going to give it to you while we were on the patio, never got the chance.” You listened closely as he spoke, wrapping the chain around your neck and connecting the two clasps. You adjusted it and smiled at the weight of it on your chest.

    “I went back to the apartment for it, but I couldn’t find it anywhere,” you stood up and brushed off your skirt, “but I did find that stupid Elvis vinyl. No one seemed to want that besides me.”

    “You might be the only person who still listens to his music,” Billy crossed his arms, smirking behind his mask.

    “Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you smiled, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.


    Your heels clicked against the pavement as you walked back inside your workplace for the first time since the robbery. The media attention was never ending, and the last thing you needed was for Billy to draw more attention to himself. As soon as you saw Cristina, she ushered her client away as quickly as possible. “HR has some journalists here asking for information. God, I really thought that lady was trying to convince me I was the one who robbed the place.”

    You gave her a fake smile and adjusted your grip on your purse, “I’m sure it’s nothing, just trying to find leads, that’s all. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done,” you promised her. You rushed to the back offices, trying to get this over so your workday could begin, but your mind went blank when you saw the journalist.

    Her hair was blonde, and she wore a long dress that showed off her sharp collarbones. She stared intently at another employee as she asked questions, listening for anything suspicious. You looked around nervously and waited patiently to the side.

    They’d had a memorial service, for both you and Billy. Not many people attended for you, not even your father could bother faking a few tears as they buried an empty casket, but dozens of people attended to put “Billy” to rest.

    When Karen called for the next employee, her eyes met yours. She stared in awe as you stepped closer, giving her a small awkward wave. Hi, Karen. Sorry I let you believe I was dead for a year! Well, I’m back now, and my husband is the one responsible for these robberies! Love your hair!

    You sat down across from her and set your purse down on your lap, staring down at your hands. “You’re...” was all Karen could say. You nodded as a sob rattled your chest. You covered your mouth, everything had been building up and now it was coming crashing down. “Can you give us a minute?” she asked the officer standing watch. As soon as he exited the room, Karen rushed to your side and pulled you into a hug, “Sweetheart...” She looked down at you as you cried, noticing the bruises on your neck that you tried your best to cover with makeup. “Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?”

    “He—He didn’t mean to,” you stuttered, “He wouldn’t do it on purpose.”

    “Wait, Billy’s alive? Billy did this?”

    You sat up in your chair and wiped your eyes, “He did all of this. The robberies, it’s all Billy. He’s not...he’s not the same.”

    The sudden realization hit Karen like a ton of bricks. That’s why they had left one of their own men behind. “That’s why he killed that guy on his crew. Because he threatened you.”

    You nodded as the officer opened the door, “Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Page, we have reports of another robbery across town with shots fired. We’ve been asked to escort you to your office.”

    You immediately stood up, clutching your purse, “Shit—“

    Karen grabbed your arm from over the desk, “Go home,” she warned you, “Don’t do anything stupid.” She quickly tore a small business card out of her notebook. “Call me as soon as you get home.”

    You nodded and ran to your car as fast as you could, ignoring Cristina as she called for you. You had to make sure Billy wasn’t behind this—he promised you he wouldn’t leave, so why would he risk everything?


    Billy stepped forward with the woman in front of her, pressing the gun against her temple. “Nice and easy. Just put the money in the bag and we’ll leave.” The woman nodded nervously, opening her drawer and taking the cash, tossing it into his duffel bag. The other men stood back and watched, a few of them rounding up the other employees. Billy turned to look over at Jake. He was strung out on meth, and the withdrawal was obvious to Billy after seeing you go through the same thing. He couldn’t help but think of going home to you again, seeing the way you smiled at him, even when you told him you were mad at him.

    The woman Billy was holding slipped a hand free, shoving his mask off his face. It all happened so fast, Billy shoved the woman into the counter, taking the gun he had pressed to her head and pulling the trigger—blood splattering all over him. The other men on Billy’s crew froze, staring at Billy’s now blood covered face. “GET YOUR SHIT, LETS GO!”

    Jake didn’t move from his position, looking at the body laying still on the floor. Billy zipped up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, walking past Jake, “She saw my face. She had to go.” The sirens began to ring from outside the bank, inching closer every time they went off. “Shit—“ Billy darted outside, running as he pulled back on his gun, keeping it loaded as he made his way to the getaway car. He heard tires squeal as they braked, several popping sounds filled the air.

    Two shots hit Billy through his stomach, knocking him down on his knees. He hissed in pain, searching for his men when he realized the car was gone—they’d left him to die. He covered the wounds with his hand as he groaned, holding the gun up as he peeked around the corner. With no officers in sight, he took off as fast as he could, leaving a trail of blood dripping behind him.


    The moment you walked into the apartment, you could hear his painful cries coming from the bathroom. Large pools of blood led you through the living room and into your bedroom. You threw your bag on the table and walked straight to where you could hear him struggling.

    Your eyes widened when you saw the blood pouring from his stomach as he tried to stitch up one of the wounds. He hissed in pain and threw his hands on the counter. “Billy what the hell did you do?” you whispered.

    He turned toward you and you realized the mask was gone; he was staring at you, face to face, for the first time in over a year. The marks were deep, outlines of raw scar tissue covered his skin. Two jagged lines covered the bridge of his nose, and one vertical scar spread almost an inch into his scalp. Both cheeks were scarred beyond repair, now you understood why he didn’t want you to see his face. He didn’t think he was worth saving, looking like this. He had dried blood scattered across his cheek, and he began coughing, spitting up more red fluid that eventually dripped down his chin.

    He leaned forward, spitting blood into the sink, gripping the counter tightly to keep him from falling. You grabbed Billy by his shoulders and forced him to sit on the toilet seat, kneeling down to look at his injuries. A large hole on the side of his stomach was leaking blood, a small thread hanging from the side that Billy hadn’t managed to sew shut himself. The second wound was smaller, but bleeding just as profusely. He was in desperate need of stitches.

    “I need you to be as still as possible,” you told him, picking up the needle and threading it through his skin again. Billy squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned in pain, his hand shooting out to hold yours tightly. You held onto his hand and with the other, you finished sewing until the hole was closed. You leaned forward, resisting the urge to puke as you bit the end of the thread off with your teeth.

    “I shouldn’t’a left,” he breathed heavily, “‘m sorry.”

    You ignored him and grabbed a small piece of gauze, taping it over the hole before beginning on the second wound. Your eyes wandered to the faded pink scars covering his stomach, ragged and uneven. “You could’ve died,” you told him in a fit of anger, “You’re still bleeding, I might need do to a transfusion.”

    “No hospitals,” he coughed, leaning his head to the side to spit in the sink again, “If I need blood, you’ll do it here.”

    “Billy I don’t have the supplies—“

    “YOU’LL DO IT HERE!” he screamed, twisting away from you, ashamed with himself. You washed the blood off your hands and grabbed your phone from your pocket, dialing Karen’s number and praying she wasn’t far.

    Karen sighed in relief as she answered the phone, “Where are you? Are you okay?”

    “How fast can you get here with supplies for a blood transfusion?”


    “No, forty-five degree angle,” you lowered the needle in Karen’s hand, showing her how to insert it in your arm, “Like that. Then you—“ you hissed as the needle pierced your skin, the blood slowly filling the bag that led to Billy’s arm. Even as an addict, you hated the feeling of needles as they were forced into your skin. With Karen’s help, you moved Billy onto your bed as he slipped in and out of consciousness. You avoided looking at the blood as it slid through each tube, going directly into Billy’s arm.

    “How do you even know his blood type?” Karen asked, quietly so Billy wouldn’t rouse.

    “I’m a universal donor, I donate blood all the time. Where the hell did you find all of this stuff?” you scratched your arm and looked over at Billy as his head slouched forward. You took his hand and squeezed it, just enough to bring him back to focus, though he hadn’t said anything since he yelled at you, only groaned and occasionally cried out in pain.

    “Curtis has been staying with us on and off for a few months. Left a bunch of this shit in storage. Frank’s going to be furious, by the way,” Karen said, crossing her arms, “We had a memorial service, for both of you.”

    Billy’s head fell forward again, making him flinch awake. His eyelids were heavy as he blinked, trying to straighten his surroundings. You wrapped your free arm around him, pulling his head on your chest even though he tried weakly to resist. “We’re fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”


    You slowly peeled the soiled bandages off Billy’s stomach, wiping away the dried blood with a washcloth, taking your time to make sure it was clean. He’d fallen asleep hours ago, and you only ever woke him to check his pulse or force him to drink something. He twitched in his sleep, turning his head either direction as he panicked. You rested your hand on his cheek, careful not to put too much pressure on the scars. “Billy,” you called softly, trying to wake him from his nightmare. “Baby, can you open your eyes for me?”

    He twisted his body and cried out in pain, reaching for the source. You seized his hands, “Don’t touch it, just leave it alone.” He opened his eyes and breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring. The memory of the woman’s body hitting the ground replayed over and over in his mind. He reached up to adjust the mask on his face, stopping when his hand made contact with one of the scars. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, realizing the mistake he had made. You’d seen his face—how were you still looking at him?

    You grabbed the stethoscope from off the bedside table, along with a blood pressure cuff Karen had managed to collect for you. “I’ll be quick, promise,” you told him quietly, sliding in each earpiece and wrapping the band around his arm. You squeezed the cuff, listening for both his systolic and diastolic pressure. You hadn’t done this in years, and the lack of practice made you rusty, but even now you were confident his blood pressure was within normal measures.

    You slipped off the stethoscope and tore the velcro of the band, sliding it off his arm. “Somewhere around 110/90, which is good,” you told him, trying to make your voice sound more confident. You couldn’t let him see how worried you were, not when he was feeling like this. “Karen’s out getting some painkillers, don’t know exactly how she’s doing that, but you refused a hospital so this is the best we can do.”

    Billy nodded and used his elbows to prop himself up in the bed, trying his best not to wince in pain as he sat up. He swallowed hard, “Thank you.”

    You nodded and tucked your hair behind your ear, “You’re still losing a lot of blood. We’ll have to do another transfusion if it doesn’t slow down.”

    Billy reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him. You shook your head but he wouldn’t let you go. “Will you just listen to me? Please?” You reluctantly agreed, moving closer to him on the bed, rubbing his hand with your thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, “I’m sorry I got you caught up in all of this.”

    “You know, Billy, sometimes sorry just isn’t enough,” you said in almost a whisper.

    Next Part is Up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #the punisher #the punisher fic #frank castle#william russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fic #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #marvel#marvel fic
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  • russobarnes
    22.05.2021 - 3 weeks ago

    You Had Me (Part Two) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Thank you all for the responses from the first chapter. I was blown away by the support! There's some angst in this chapter but it ends on a somewhat decent note. Enjoy!

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 2.4k

    Warnings: mention of drugs and drug addiction, blood, and domestic violence. If you or someone you know are in an abusive relationship, please contact the domestic violence hotline by either calling 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or texting "Start" to 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper @thetallassgirl (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    You couldn’t stop staring at the man before you, watching as his shoulders rose with every breath, his hands pressed together nervously. What did he have to be nervous about? You could see the gloss in his dark brown—almost black eyes. Billy licked his lips, stumbling over his words as he spoke, “I-I didn’t—I didn’t know where else t-to go.” As soon as you stepped to the side, Billy eagerly walked further in your apartment, his head turning to evaluate his surroundings—almost like he was checking the area for safety.

    “How did you find my apartment?” you asked, closing and locking the door. Before you could even turn to face him again, he spoke, his voice soft and cracking with fear. He was nothing like the man you had seen earlier, holding a gun at your coworkers, threatening them for money. All of that was for show, to protect himself, but in front of you, he knew that would never work.

    “I uh, I followed y-you home.”

    You swallowed hard and nodded as he sat down on the couch, leaning to the side, his eyes searching for anyone else in the empty apartment. Did he think you had moved on? You sniffled and pushed your glasses up further the bridge of your nose, evaluating the drops of dry blood on Billy’s hands and shirt. “Is this all from the man you shot?” you asked, stepping closer to him, motioning to the blood on his skin.

    Billy lifted his head and looked at you his eyes filled with her. His mouth fell open as he shook his head, trembling, “I-I didn’t want to hurt him. He—He was a good m-man.”

    In the years since you’d met Billy, not once did he act like this—terrified and weak. His previous composure had been abandoned, all sense of purpose had been washed away. You silently held your hand out to him, and with severe hesitation, Billy accepted, letting you drag him toward the bathroom.

    You slowly pushed the door open, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “Let me help you clean up, okay?”

    Billy nodded repeatedly, almost urgently, and let go of your hand. Your mouth opened to ask him what he was doing but before you could utter a word, he had closed the door on you, leaving you alone in the hallway.

    “Most of the furniture was taken by other tenants, we’d figured the place had been abandoned. There’s still a...large bloodstain in the living area, we’re waiting for replacement tiles to come in, if you were still interested in living here.”

    You looked over at the landlord, shaking your head, “No, I’m just here to grab a few things and it’s all yours.” The man nodded and left the keys on the island before exiting leaving you to your own devices.

    You hugged your arms at your chest as you walked around, glancing at the belongings that still remained. Billy’s cart of liquor—though it had been severely ransacked by now, a few dining room chairs, but no table. The couch was gone, leaving a gap in the center of the room. Just beside where it used to rest was the bloodstain the landlord had tried to warn you about. It had clearly been aggressively scrubbed but was need of replacement. You could feel the side of your head burning as you stared down at the stain.

    After a few moments you walked over to the record player, which was thankfully mostly intact. You didn’t care for the player itself, but the one vinyl you hoped hadn’t been taken. Behind the more popular artists, like Springsteen and even AC/DC, was Billy’s single Elvis Presley record. You ran your thumb against the spine of the record before grabbing it and holding it against your chest. If there was anything you could have asked for back—it was the record and your necklace Billy had gifted you.

    You spent over an hour going through Billy’s dresser, collecting some of his clothing and shoving it into a box you had brought along, folding each item neatly, and slowly taping the box shut. You couldn’t find your necklace anywhere, and nothing else was worth taking back with you. You had your wedding ring and it was all you needed anyway.

    You wiped the dust off the box and ripped the tape off, slowly pulling out the clothing items you had of his. A few sweaters, two pairs of jeans, and the suit he wore when he married you—that was in dire need of being steamed and pressed. You rubbed the lapel of the suit between your fingers when Billy came out of the bathroom, his voice making you flinch.

    “You should throw that away,” he said simply, digging his hands into his dirty pant pockets. You clutched it to your chest and shook your head, pinching your eyes shut to keep you from crying.

    “Why would I do that?” you whispered, your voice cracking. Why were you crying over some stupid piece of clothing?

    Billy rolled his neck, stepping closer to you, “It’s nothing but garbage now.” You lifted your glasses to the top of your head and wiped your eyes with the back of each hand before shoving the suit back in the box, folding it shut. A few moments to himself seemed to have eased his anxiety, but Billy was nowhere near being his old self.

    Billy raised his hand to point at your glasses, “Are those because of me?”

    You finally turned to face him, disappointed to see the mask still covering his face. You rested your glasses back on your nose, “Because I got shot in the head,” you clarified, not placing the blame on him. Never once did I blame you, you wished you were brave enough to tell him.

    Billy took long strides over to the bed, now standing only inches from you. He twisted his neck to look at you, and without any emotion, he said “Turn around. Please,” he added as an afterthought. You did as he said and listened closely as you heard him pull off his dirty shirt, tossing it onto the floor as he switched into a clean sweater. Why can’t I look at you, Billy, you thought desperately, I want to see you.

    You heard his belt click and you assumed he was done, but as soon as you began to turn toward him again, Billy’s eyes widened and he lashed out at you, slamming you into the wall. You cried out in pain, his forearm pressed against your neck. You desperately grabbed at his arm, gasping for air. “Bill—“

    “Don’t look at me!” he shouted, inching his face closer to yours, you could tell his nostrils were flaring underneath the mask. “I-I didn’t say you could—“ You began looking around, desperate for anything to get him off of you, when your eyes landed on his stomach, still slightly uncovered by his shirt. You could only see maybe two inches of skin, but it was covered in scar tissue, dark pink layers of skin stretched across his abdomen. What did he look like beneath the mask?

    Billy’s grip on you loosened as he started to panic, clawing desperately at his shirt, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He couldn’t breathe. Your throat was still adjusting from the lack of air, but you called his name, “Billy—“

    You couldn’t lie—you had been terrified of him two moments ago, but now you were terrified for him. He fell onto his knees and looked up at you, his eyes filling with tears again. He was hyperventilating, unable to catch his breath. You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them toward you. “Billy, look at me.” He just sat and shook his head, searching for any ounce of air. “Look at me.”

    You squeezed his hands, “Baby, I need you to list five blue things in the room. Five blue things—“

    “I’m not playing some stupid—“ He gasped.

    You grabbed his chin, making his eyes widen. This was the closest anyone had gotten to touching him in over a year, he was horrified by what you might see. “Five blue things.”

    Billy’s eyes started scanning the bedroom, he ripped one hand from your grip and pointed to the curtains beside the window. “The-The curtains.”

    You nodded, “Four more, Billy.” Your throat was aching every time you spoke, but you couldn’t give up on him.

    He grabbed at the sweater he had just put on, “This—This is blue, huh? A-And the sheets o-on your bed.” With every item he listed off, his breath slowly began to return to normal. “Y-Your glasses,” he sniffled, “And th-the suit. The suit was blue.”

    “Yeah, baby, the suit was blue,” you gave him another weak nod.

    Billy’s hand reached out toward your neck again, but you quickly stepped backward. “I didn’t mean to...” he trailed off, “Sweetheart—“ He reached his hand out further and this time you let him trail his fingers over what you could only assume were bruises forming along your neck. “It-It won’t happen again, I p-promise.”

    You swallowed hard, “I know, Billy,” not believing a word that came out of your mouth.


    You woke early in the morning to screaming. You pulled your robe around your body and rushed to the living room to find Billy, somehow still sleeping, but aroused in his nightmare. He was drenched in sweat, you could see the small beads on either side of his face, still covered by the mask. He was clutching one of your pillows to his chest.

    “Billy,” you called his name, trying just to rouse him, not to frighten him. He continued shuddering, so you tried again. “Billy—“

    He gasped awake, sitting up in a panic as he searched the room with his eyes, his fist clenched around the feathered pillow still in his hand. He panted heavily, and you held your hands out toward him. “You’re safe, baby, it’s me.”

    He gave you a brief nod and tightened his hold on your pillow, still adjusting to where he had awoken. “How about some water, hmm?” you offered, tying the silk strings hanging from either side of your robe. He nodded eagerly and reached for his face, sighing in relief when he realized the mask was still in its place.

    You tip-toed over to the faucet and filled a small glass for him, handing it to him once you were close enough. You could see him eyeing your bruised neck. He tore his eyes away and turned on the couch so you couldn’t see his face once he lifted the mask to drink some of the water.

    Billy pulled the mask back down and set the glass on the coffee table before laying back down on his side. You quickly shook your head, “No, don’t go back to sleep.”

    “I don’t wanna t-talk about it,” he said angrily, his dark eyes meeting yours. You were scared to push him, after what he did last night, but if you let him get away with this he would never open up to you, and you’d be back where you were left this past year. Alone.

    “Then how about some breakfast, yeah?” you walked further from him and over to your small kitchen, nothing compared to your old apartment with Billy. “Some eggs and toast?”

    “I don’t w-want any fucki—“

    “You’ll eat or you’ll leave,” you forced yourself to say, despite how badly it hurt. You held onto the door of the refrigerator and waited for him to object, but he said nothing. “That’s what I thought, Billy.” You didn’t like how easily you had snapped at him. He seemed so broken when he’d come to you last night, and you hated the thought of making him hurt even more, but you had no choice if he wasn’t willing to talk.

    “How did you get that pillow?” you finally asked as you pulled a few things out of the fridge, “My door was locked.”

    Billy sat up straighter, running his hand over his scalp. He took the glass of water again and finished what was left of it. “Picked the lock.”

    Simple enough, you sighed and nodded. Had he watched you sleep? Heard call for him like you did every other night? “Well I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”

    “What? I-I can’t sleep in the—the same bed as my wife?” He spat back at you, giving off the same energy you had just thrown at him.

    You licked your lips and turned toward him. “Take the mask off, then you can sleep in the same bed as me.”

    The confidence he had built from talking back to you was gone and he had shrunken down to his previous size. He clenched your pillow in his fists and shook his head, surrendering. You faced the stove again and started making breakfast, not offering any sort of small talk to interrupt the silence. You twisted the ring on your finger as you finished the eggs, watching it shine in the artificial lighting hanging from the ceiling.

    Once you were done, you set a plate down in front of Billy, only stepping away to fill his glass of water again. He was quick to take the plate and turn his back to you as he ate, not leaving a single crumb behind. Past Billy took his time, using his overly expensive cutlery, but this was a new man. He spent the last year only worrying about survival, not about enjoyment or satisfaction. You wondered when was the last time he ate a home cooked meal?

    You set the glass of water back on the coffee table and ate in the kitchen, sitting on a stool by yourself. You were aching for a cigarette, and for the first time in months, heroin. “Thank you,” he called out quietly, pulling the mask back down and standing up, carrying his plate to the sink. “I missed y-your shitty cooking.”

    You pressed your lips together to hide your smile, tossing your napkin onto the plate, “It is pretty bad, isn’t it?”

    He nodded, and you could almost see the faint widening of his cheeks beneath the mask as he began to smile. Maybe the real Billy wasn’t gone, after all.

    Next Part is up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #marvel#marvel fic#the punisher #the punisher fic #billy russo#william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n
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  • russobarnes
    18.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    You Had Me (Part One) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: The time has come, Billy and his sweetheart have returned. I've been waiting to write this sequel since I knew how I wanted You Found Me to end, and I'm so glad it's finally here. Chapters will be a little shorter than the prequel, but hopefully more frequent. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

    *this fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: A year after your last encounter with your father, William Rawlins, you discover that the man you married is indeed still alive, but is he still the Billy Russo you committed the rest of your life to or has a murderer taken his place? Sequel to "You Found Me."

    Word Count: 2.1k

    Warnings: kidnapping, smoking, brief description of violence.

    *The word fag is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual.*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh @tanyaherondale @lady-russhoe @marauderskeeper (If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

    You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Next, please!” you shouted just loud enough to grab the next clients attention. You smiled at the young man as he walked over to you, a small wad of cash in his hand. “Are you just making a deposit?” This was only your third month working at Southshore bank, a last effort to make you at least a decent amount of cash.

    The man nodded, pulling out his leather wallet, “Into my checking account, please.” You nodded and waited patiently as he pulled out his ID, sliding it closer to you on the counter, along with his pile of cash. He was the same age as you, only a few months older, his blonde hair cut short at the sides but long and slicked back at the top—reminding you of how Billy used to cut his hair. You searched his name in the banking system, scratching your arm habitually. “You’re very beautiful,” the man told you, leaning on his arm that was resting on the counter, a polite smile on his face. He’s hitting on you, you sighed.

    “Married, sorry,” you held up your hand, showing off your pear-shaped diamond ring, “Thank you though, I appreciate it.”

    The man nodded and clicked his tongue, looking you up and down. “That’s a shame, really.”

    You faked another smile as you began to deposit the money, quickly printing his receipt. You held it out to him, “Have a good day, sir.” He smiled at you once more before walking off. You groaned and flipped your sign to “see the next attendant.” You needed a smoke break.

    Your heels clicked as you walked over to Cristina, “I’m gonna take my lunch, if that’s okay.” You looked over at the short line of clients, waiting for assistance, but you knew she could handle it on her own. This late in the day, not too many people came in to make deposits, and you weren’t trained to do much else yet.

    Cristina finished with her current client before turning to face you, her long curly black hair drifted over either of her shoulders. You nodded as she sighed, “When are you finally going to accept that you’re single? I know you wear that ring, but you should find someone new—“

    “I’m married, Cristina,” you held up your hand as you walked away, “I’m not abandoning him.”

    “He’s dead, babe. He’d want you to move on,” she called after you.

    Dead. You always hated when she pointed that out to you, even though she was right. You hadn’t seen Billy in a year—372 days to be exact. If he really was out there, he would’ve found you by now.

    You stepped outside, ripping your glasses off your face, covering your eyes with the palms of your hands. Billy was dead. You shakily pulled out your pack of cigarettes, lighting one and shoving it between your lips, trying to calm yourself down. Before everything went down, you promised Billy you’d stop smoking, and part of you wished he’d come back just to make you keep your promise.

    You’d lost track of how long you stood there, but your cigarette was just reaching it’s expire, so you knew not much time had passed. You wiped your moist eyes and slid your glasses back on, your hand resting on the small scar on the right side of your temple.

    You remembered the pain. The blood pooling against the floor beside you. You screamed in agony for help, begging for someone to save you. You reached for Billy, laying still beside you, “Billy, wake up,” you pleaded, “WAKE UP!” You sobbed hysterically as someone finally broke into the apartment, dragging you away from Billy.

    You felt the click of a gun as it was pointed to the back of your head. The cigarette fell from between your fingers as you froze. “You’re going to walk inside, slowly.” You nodded and did as the man said, taking small steps as you walked back inside the bank. You saw several other men holding guns, some seemed to be assault rifles, pushing people into lines beside the counter, separating the clients from the employees. “Found another one out back, sir.”

    The man you could only assume was the leader turned to face you. All of the men’s faces were covered by masks, all covered in intricate almost cracked porcelain designs. The leader of the group stepped closer to you, his hair buzzed harshly close to his scalp. His mask was white, long cracks of black and small pieces of red and blue, almost shaped into an American flag along each side. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you, but you refused to make eye contact with him. “Put her by the rest of ‘em.” He had purposely deepened his voice, unable to tear his eyes away as he breathed heavily beneath the mask.

    The man holding you nodded and grabbed your arm, yanking you over to the other hostages. You immediately made eye contact with Cristina, her eyes widened in horror. “That’s a nice ring you got there,” the man told you, twisting your body to face him. You looked up at him for the first time, staring directly at the black mask covering his face. You refused to say anything. “Give it to me.”

    You stared into the man’s eyes, trying to memorize any details that you could. “No.”

    “No?” he laughed, “No, huh?” He grabbed your hand, pulling it closer to him. You tried to resist, clenching your hand into a fist so he couldn’t pull the ring off your finger. This is all I have left of him, you thought desperately.

    “Give it to him!” Cristina shouted, crawling backward in fear of retribution for speaking up. In anger, you shoved your fist forward and punched the man in the nose, making him stumble. He growled in anger, tightening his grip on you, moving the gun back to your head.

    “Leaving one body behind surely won’t—"

    You gasped when you heard a bullet tear through the room, but it hadn’t hit you. The man holding you tightly collapsed onto the floor, blood pooling from the gunshot wound on the center of his forehead. You heard muffled cries from Cristina and a few other employees, and felt blood dripping down your cheek.

    The leader of the group stepped closer to you, his dark eyes evaluating you for injures, “Are you okay?” When the hell did someone holding you hostage ask if you were okay?

    You pinched your eyes shut and nodded, feeling for your register key in your pocket. “J-Just take whatever you want.” You held the key out, refusing to open your eyes.

    You felt the man’s chest rub against your back, “When you hear the door close, then you can open your eyes. Do you hear me?” You quickly nodded and swallowed hard. His voice was almost recognizable. You felt the guy take your keys and jump over the counter, opening each drawer and shoving all of the cash into his duffel bag. You counted the seconds in your head as time passed, until you finally heard the door open—but not close.

    The man stopped to admire you once more. “Thanks, sweetheart.” You heard him call to you before the door slammed shut.


    The police questioned you for hours, asking you to repeat every detail you could recall. Thanks, sweetheart. You couldn’t get that voice out of your head. It sounded so familiar. You rubbed lightly at the diamond ring on your finger. Could it really be him? The officer shifted slightly, “Ma’am?”

    You looked up, “I’m sorry, what?”

    The officer sighed, holding his pen and small notebook in his hand, “I asked if you recognized any of the men?” Yes.

    “No, none of them,” you lied, “I didn’t see any of their faces.”

    The officer nodded and began writing again in his notebook. After a few moments of silence he pulled out his card and held it out to you. “If you remember anything, give me a call. Ask for Officer Mahoney.” You quietly thanked him and took the card before walking over toward Cristina, who was evidently still shaken up.

    You tucked your hair behind your ear, “Are you okay?”

    Cristina took a shaky breath, “I’ve never seen so much blood...” She rubbed her eyes, “I don’t know how you’re so…okay.”

    You gave her a weak smile. “I was a medical officer in the military. You get used to it.” Not exactly the most comforting thing to say to someone so traumatized, but you didn’t know what else to tell her. Your mind was still racing as you walked out to your car, taking as many backroads back to your apartment as you possibly could, not noticing the small car following you.

    As soon as you walked into your apartment, you locked the deadbolt behind you and slumped onto the couch. You stubbed your cigarette out on the ashtray and buried your face in your hands. 372 days. You must have been imagining things. If Billy was out there, why had he waited so long to see you? And why the hell would he do it like that?


    Billy tossed his duffel bag onto the metal table in the center of the room. Within seconds the other men were surrounding him, eager to collect their shares from today’s heist. One man stayed behind, his arms crossed as he glared at Billy.

    “You tryna burn a hole through my shirt, Jake?” Billy asked him, lifting his mask and resting it on the top of his head. “Get on with it.”

    “What the hell is the matter with you? Leaving Anton behind like that—we could’ve been caught!” Jake shouted, his eyebrows furrowed. Without listening to the angry man standing beside him, he pulled out the wads of cash, counting each stack, separating it in even piles for each member of his crew. Almost $50,000 for each of them. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

    Furious, Billy grabbed Jake by his shirt, pulling him forward, only inches from his face, “What do you want me to say, huh? I’m sorry?” he mocked, “We didn’t go there for some damn wedding ring. We got the cash and got out of there. Anton was risking the rest of the crew.” Billy finally released Jake, who was now staring at him with wide eyes, too scared to argue anymore. Billy took his share of the money and shoves it back in the duffel bag, “We wait a week, let things cool down, and we go again, across town.”

    “Yes, boss.” Jake held his chin up and watched Billy from afar.

    After a few moments of silent chatter, another man from Billy’s group steps forward, “Drinks anyone?” A few of the men, even Jake, nodded in agreement, small smiles forming on their faces from the high of getting away with such an ordeal. “Russo?”

    Billy threw his bag over his shoulder and shook his head, “No, no I’ve something to take care of. Pour one out for me, alright?” Without waiting to hear any of their responses, Billy walked out of the warehouse and headed straight back to the bank to see you.


    You sipped your beer silently as you watched the news, seeing your workplace on every channel. This was the fifth robbery this month, but the only one where a fugitive was left behind. His name was Anton, a former member of the military before his discharge. He’d been on the run for several smaller crimes, but never with another group of men. This crew seemed to have come out of nowhere and was destined to raise hell in New York. You picked up the remote, ready to turn off the television as someone started knocking lightly on your door.

    You clicked the television off and stood up, setting your beer down on the coffee table before making your way to the only entrance of your apartment. You rested your hand on the doorknob and stared through the peephole, your body freezing when you saw who it was. The same man who held you hostage at your workplace, who shot the man threatening to steal your wedding ring. You knew in your heart that he wasn’t here to hurt you.

    The man still had his mask covering his face as he stared down at his hands, rubbing gently at his knuckles. You licked your lips, “Who is it?” you asked, hoping you already knew the answer.

    “It’s me—it’s Billy Russo.”

    Next Part is up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes fic #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #marvel #the punisher fic #billy russo#william russo #billy russo fic #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #marvel fic
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  • russobarnes
    11.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    You Found Me (Part Ten) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: This is it, everyone. The ending of You Found Me. Thank you for reading, and enjoy. PLEASE pay close attention to the authors note at the END of the chapter.

    *This fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: You and Billy had nothing in common: he grew up in the foster care system, while you had a loving family, when suddenly both of your lives flipped the other way around. He became a CEO of his own company and you fell into a repetitive drug addiction after losing everyone you had left. When the two of you are introduced, is Billy strong enough to pull you up from the hole or will you drag him down with you?

    Word Count: 2.5k

    Warnings: abuse, violence, blood, graphic descriptions of violence, overall this is a rough chapter so be careful if you’re not in the best state of mind. 

    *the word ‘fag’ is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable @xceafh​ @tanyaherondale​ @lady-russhoe​

    Everything seemed to happen faster than your brain could render. Within seconds of grabbing you, William Rawlins had bound your mouth, gagging you until you couldn’t breathe through your mouth. And although Billy was strong, he had nothing to protect you from the gun now pointed directly at your skull, beads of sweat dripping down your temples. You knew better than to try and fight your father, and the loaded gun only increased your chances of fatality. If this was really the end for you, at least you had gotten the chance to make your vows, give yourself to the only man who swore to protect you. You thought it was something you could live—well, die with…but when did you begin giving into your fathers schemes?

    Killing you himself was never your fathers idea, he always planned on making Billy do it for him. “You’re going to take the shot, Billy,” Rawlins had told him, motioning to the gun in his hand, “You’re going to end this so we can move on, together.” You stared at Billy, refusing to show any weakness, only giving him a slight nod. You hoped you’d be able to distract your father just long enough to get the gun away from your head, maybe even enough to slip through the rope binding your hands together. The chances were slim, but just maybe…

    Billy promised he’d take care of things—make sure you had all you’d ever need in life. You knew he wasn’t one to break a promise, but sometimes how precautious he was made your skin itch from beneath the surface. “Bank accounts under your name, not connected to me whatsoever,” he’d remind you, “You’ll always have something to keep you safe if—”

    “If something happens, I know.” He could feel the tension between your bodies, filling the air until it was ready to combust. “But you’re not going anywhere, so it’s unnecessary.”

    “The key to the safe is in the record. Loaded guns behind the shelf.” I know. He’d put them there after the wedding, tucking it near the vinyl you danced to, swaying across his living room. The roaring voice of Elvis covering the sound of your heavy, drunken breathing. All of this preparation seemed so useless, until today. Now your eyes were fixated on the vinyl as it rested against his record player, praying he would follow through on his promise and protect you—tell you everything was going to be okay. But when did it ever go as planned?

    You rubbed your palm lightly, drenching your hand in the sweat that pooled onto your skin, trying to loosen the tie just enough to slip one hand free. You met Billy’s eyes and slid your vision down to your hand, giving him a small point in the direction of the record player. You were smooth, concise, but what if Rawlins noticed? William tightened his grip on your arm, the other hand stretching as he held the pistol to your temple. Billy seemed to have caught on to your idea, but he didn’t move an inch.

    “Put the gun down and we can talk about our options,” he finally offered, his hands still resting lightly in the air, surrendering to Rawlins threat. Your father didn’t seem convinced. “Put. The gun. Down.” Using the sweat forming on your skin, you slid one hand free from the rope, but were careful to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the click of the gun, for the pounding pain ringing through your skull—but none came. Instead, the weight of the metal was released from your skin, you couldn’t prevent the overwhelming breaths that poured out through your nose as you relaxed.

    “Does she know what you did?” Rawlins asked, now pointing the gun to Billy, who was slowly inching his way back towards the record player. Your father knelt down beside you, “Your…loving husband asked me to put a hit on that old boyfriend of yours. Lucas? Together we put six bullets in that man and his pal. Billy loved the adrenaline it gave him, didn’t you, Billy?” Your eyes shot back to Billy, wider than you thought they could ever go.

    “I have to go to work, there was some weird incident last night. Two men were killed outside of Jo’s.” You nodded, wasn’t the first time shit like that happened in New York. “Looks like a hit, but no suspects have been identified.”

    “Billy watched as poor Lucas bled to death, choking on his own blood. After all… it made him closer to you.” You shook your head, Billy wouldn’t do that. “Tell her what you said to Lucas. Tell her, Billy.”

    Billy had never stood so still, looking directly into your tear-filled eyes. Billy wasn’t a murderer. “I told him you were mine.” Your father burst into laughter, making you flinch uncontrollably. He was truly terrifying, but what he was telling you must have been true; You could see the guilt on Billy’s face as he watched you. You leaned forward as you sobbed, crying not only for the man you had once called your best friend, now dead and wasting away, but for the man you had given your life to and how easily he had hidden this dark part of himself. “Unbound her, William.”

    Your father shook his head, “You think she’ll ever forgive you for something like that? Killing two civilians—killing the only person that really loved her? If you knew my daughter, Billy, you know she holds a grudge like no one else.” He was still laughing, the gun shaking in his hand as he tried to collect himself. “If you want to keep what you’ve worked so hard for, you’ll take the shot before it’s too late.”

    Billy stepped backward again, shaking his head as the back of his calf made contact with the record player. He was only inches away from the gun, he couldn’t wait to release the trigger on William Rawlins and end this once and for all. You shook your head toward Billy—you could see how eager he was for revenge, but killing your father would only make things worse for both of you. You twisted your arm upward, pushing the gun from Rawlins hand, knocking it across the floor. He stared at you in disbelief before lunging and grabbing your neck, pressing down firmly. Billy had bent down and grabbed the hidden pistol, aiming it at your father.

    You could feel your face turning red, circulation being cut off. Before this moment, all you ever wanted was for this man to feel the wrath he had disposed upon you, but not anymore. Now you couldn’t bear watching him die before you—and you couldn’t watch the horror of Billy releasing the trigger, proving your father right.

    “Daddy, stop!” you squealed as you ran down the hallway, twisting and turning as you tried to avoid his strong grip, but before you knew it, he had grabbed you by the stomach and thrown you over his shoulders, making you laugh uncontrollably. “Don’t tickle me!”

    “Oh, but sweetheart, I must tickle you, that’s the whole point of chasing the birthday girl! Before you know it, you’ll be so big I can’t carry you anymore!” Rawlins roared with laughter as he picked up his hand, stretching his fingers before shoving them into your stomach, scratching them relentlessly as you laughed, begging for him to stop between your ragged breaths.

    “Daddy, stop, I can’t breathe! Daddy—”

    A man in a white coat stepped out into the hall, and all efforts at keeping the birthday-girl in high spirits was abandoned. Rawlins slid you off of his shoulder and planted your feet onto the tile. You quickly caught your breath and stared up at your father, his expression mournful. He took quick, long strides closer to the doctor, speaking quietly to each other. Most of the words meant nothing to your childish mind. “Malignancy…metastatic…” But even as a child, who was just spinning around in her pleated pink dress, you knew these words couldn’t mean anything good, and they certainly didn’t.

    You remembered how tightly he held you, how freely the tears came nearly every night following that day. He’d given up everything to be with you as much as he could, drowning out the rest of the world. Even after all of the abuse, you couldn’t bear losing the only parent you had left, who you knew, deep down, buried beneath the trauma he had endured, still loved you.

    Billy fired a warning shot into Rawlins leg, who then abruptly let you go to protect himself. You fell backward as you coughed, trying to recatch your breath. With the ropes still bound around one hand, you pulled down the gag as you gasped in pain. The sides of your neck were already bruising, your throat swelling.

    You crawled back on your knees, “Billy stop—” Billy stepped closer, almost like the adrenaline was a heroin high for him. The man you spent your nights with was long gone, replaced by a monster. A man thirsty for blood and revenge, where had your Billy gone? “Billy you don’t have kill him!” you tried to plead with him.

    “There’s the Russo I know,” Rawlins coughed, regaining his balance after the blow to his leg. “Hungry for more, are we?” You forced yourself to stand on shaky legs, stepping in front of Billy, separating the two men.

    “Get out of my way,” he told you, pulling the gun back, pointing it again at William. Billy’s vision had gone red, he wasn’t himself. He swallowed hard, he wasn’t going to stop until you were free. You’d lived his entire life in captivity because of this man—he wasn’t going to stand for that any longer. “Let me finish this.”

    “You’re not like him Billy, you’re not a murderer. Don’t do this.”

    He stared at you as his hand began to lower, his head slowly nodding as he looked into your perfect eyes, the eyes of his wife. Just when you thought you were reaching him, Rawlins jumped forward. Billy’s hand shot back up, and you heard a release. The smell of gunpowder filling your nostrils. You didn’t have time to look back up at Billy before everything went black.

    “Yeah, well maybe it’s for the best. You don’t need anybody holding you back.”

    “Neither do you, Billy.”

    “Was that so hard?” he heard Rawlins say, his eyes shooting left and right as he stared at the disaster unfolding beneath him. He’d missed the target, and you’d been caught in the crossfire. “I always knew you had it in you, Russo.” Billy’s lips separated as he watched the blood pooling from the side of your head. He’d shot you. Collapsing onto his knees, the blood began soaking into his clothes as he dragged you closer to him. Billy couldn’t echo more than a sob as he pulled you near. He couldn’t feel your heart, he couldn’t feel your presence like when you slept peacefully beside him at night.

    “Leave her.”

    Billy’s blood soaked hand clenched into a fist, forcing himself to form some sort of words. “You had to make this about her.” He was nearly growling in anger, heat rising in his chest. The red began to appear again, much darker than he had seen before. Billy lunged onto his feet, grabbing Rawlins by his jacket and shoving him into the kitchen wall. “YOU HAD TO MAKE THIS ABOUT HER!” He screamed, throwing his fist into Rawlins face, over and over again.

    William leaned back and outstretched his arm, feeling around the counter for anything he could use to defend himself. He felt the knife block behind him and pulled out the thickest blade, swinging it forward. Rawlins had scraped it against Billy’s forearms, leaving two large gashes on each arm. In a moment of weakness, he’d caught Billy, dragging the knife against his cheek, digging it deeper and through the skin of his cheek. “What did I tell you about distractions, Billy? Did you learn your lesson?”

    The blade dug into Billy’s skin as he screamed, grabbing at Rawlins face trying to push him off. “I thought you were better than that—thought I had trained you better than that. Guess I should know when to cut my losses.” He twisted the knife further into Billy’s skin, cries of agony rang through the room. For a swift moment he pulled the blade out, watching in satisfaction as blood pooled down Russo’s cheek. Billy was huffing, holding his hands up in defense. He forced another blow to William’s face, but Rawlins predicted this next move, instead shoving the knife into Billy’s abdomen.

    Billy stared in horror as he slumped backward, the knife still hanging from his stomach. With a scream, he pulled the knife out and dropped it to the floor. Once again, Billy held his arms up, ready for more, despite the agonizing blood pooling onto the linoleum. “You don’t get to win, Billy.” Rawlins stepped forward again, seeing the cracks in Billy’s ego as he tried to overcome the blood-loss. “I didn’t want to have to do this to you.” Billy shot his hand out, William easily grabbed it and twisted his hand upward until he heard a loud crack.

    Rawlins grabbed the knife from off the floor, wiping the blood onto his jacket, “We could have been big, Billy. You were working your way up in the world…now I have to take that from you.”

    Billy looked up at Rawlins, blood pouring from his lips. The blood loss was kicking in, he couldn’t see straight, but even like this he wasn’t going to beg. He’d done this to you, he knew he deserved this. Closing his eyes, for the first time in his entire life, Billy prayed. He prayed to a God he never once believed in, prayed that somehow, someway he’d make his way back onto that field with you. Your hair blowing in the wind, the smile on your face, telling her how badly you wanted a family with you. Billy prayed that he would see you again.

    The knife plunged into his abdomen a second and final time, tearing through his skin, chunks of flesh being ripped apart. He clenched his jaw shut as he accepted the pain. Rawlins watched in disappointment as Billy collapsed beside your still bleeding body. “What a shame,” he muttered to himself. Your father took long strides to walk above the two still bodies, staring down at you with immense disappointment, but not an ounce of guilt. Rawlins wouldn’t be there to see your eyes flicker open and call out in pain for someone to save you.

    A/N: This is not the end of Billy and his sweetheart. Stay tuned for You Had Me, coming soon...

    #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #billy russo#william russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #the punisher #the punisher fic #marvel#marvel fic#logan delos#aleksander morozova#dorian gray#prince caspian
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  • russobarnes
    08.05.2021 - 1 mont ago

    You Found Me (Part Nine) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry for the long wait for part nine. The release of Shadow and Bone has destroyed my motivation to write Billy Russo and I have been dreading writing the ending of this fic since I loved it so much. This chapter is FILLED with happy wedding memories, so it’s a bit shorter than most of the chapters, but stay tuned, as the next part is the final one. Thank you all for reading, and being so incredibly patient for this part.

    *This fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: You and Billy had nothing in common: he grew up in the foster care system, while you had a loving family, when suddenly both of your lives flipped the other way around. He became a CEO of his own company and you fell into a repetitive drug addiction after losing everyone you had left. When the two of you are introduced, is Billy strong enough to pull you up from the hole or will you drag him down with you?

    Word Count: 2.5k its short and to the point so that the next chapter is ready for the ending!

    Warnings: smoking, cigarettes, slight open-ending

    *the word ‘fag’ is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black @galaxyjane @diaryoftheunstable

    You rubbed the bandage on your wrist as you stared down at the case of what you could only imagine was at least a hundred diamond rings, all too large for your taste—or price-point for that matter. “We carry a minimum of one karat in the store, all the way up to eight karats on the right-hand side if that’s what you’re looking for,” the attendant told you and Billy, but not much of what she said registered in your mind. Princess, circle, emerald…some cuts you didn’t even recognize. Each ring shined brightly in the artificial lighting, I suppose that’s the point, you thought to yourself. “Did we have a price range?”

    Billy cleared his throat, digging his hand out of his pocket and pointing towards one of the larger selections of rings, “No price, but I think my wife will kill me if I pick anything larger than two karats.” Wife. He hadn’t called you his wife yet. Billy’s eyes shifted to you, quickly grabbing your attention. You lifted your head to meet his gaze. “What shape are you thinking, sweetheart?”

    You shrugged and glanced back down at the rings, “They’re all gorgeous…”

    He gave a polite smile to the worker, “We’ll need a minute.” She quickly nodded and rushed off to help another guest. Billy swiftly took your shaking hand, easing your anxiety with just his touch. “What are you thinking, hmm?” Your eyes darted nervously back to his, and you separated your lips, thinking of something—anything to say to him. I think they’re amazing, but way too expensive. How could I ever repay you for a ring like this? You knew it was silly—his money was yours now, and he’d never make you pay for the ring he rightfully owed you as his wife, but it was overwhelming having to choose from such a selection. They were all rings…the ring. But which would look best on you? Which one made you want to shout to every person in the store that you were married to William Russo?

    “I…like the pear cut,” you admitted, raising your hand to chew harshly on your nail. Billy seemed satisfied with your response and called the attendant back over, asking her to pull out every two karat pear-shaped ring. This slimmed the selection down by a few dozen, leading you to two small rows of pear-shaped diamond rings.

    “These are the selections we have in-store for two karat pear-shaped rings.” You nodded and slowly pulled one off the velvet case, rubbing it between your fingers. You set it down as quickly as you grabbed it, shaking your head. Not it. You leaned into Billy’s touch as he rested his hand on the small of your back, watching you intently. You took a closer look at a few more before you plucked another one out of the case and held it up—the diamond still larger than you ever imagined, but stunning once you held it within your grasp. The band was simple, a glossy silver; you’d barely gotten time to admire its beauty before Billy took it from you.

    “I like this one,” he murmured, quiet enough that only you could hear. He rubbed the band with his thumb and took your hand, sliding it onto your finger. You bit your cheek, watching as it slid perfectly against your skin. As if it were made for you, the ring felt like it had merged with your skin, like you’d never want to take it off—and you didn’t. You looked up at Billy as he licked his lips, a faint smile began to form on his face. He nodded and looked at the worker, “This is the one.”

    You stared down at the ring, watching as it shimmered in the light, unable to tear your eyes away. Time seemed to fade as you rubbed the diamond on your finger, and by the time you’d looked away, Billy had already purchased the ring. He was right—you both liked this one, and you hoped you’d never have to see the day where the ring came off your finger.

    You saw me crying in the chapel

    The tears I shed were tears of joy

    I know the meaning of contentment

    Now I am happy with the Lord

    “I don’t own a single white dress, apparently,” you groaned, skimming through your closet. You didn’t own many clothes, but you had acquired several dresses over your time with Billy, and you prayed that at least one of them was white, or could pass as white. Navy, gray, black—basically any dark color that matched Billy’s taste had made its way into your collection, but not a single piece of white material had. “If we want to meet the judge today, I don’t have time to go buy something white.”

    Billy fastened the final button on his shirt, “You don’t have to wear white, this isn’t the 50’s.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he laughed, stepping behind you to pull a suit jacket off one of his hangers, “Why not the navy? It looks good on you.”

    “You say that about all of my clothes, Billy.”

    “Well it’s true…” he mumbled, slipping his arms into the jacket and adjusting it on his body as he stared into the mirror. “Then wear the red one.”

    “Red? We’re getting married, I can’t just—”

    Billy pulled you backwards, twisting your body as he pressed your hips against his, making you yelp and quickly shut your mouth. No more complaining. “I like the red one,” he whispered as he pressed his lips against your neck, “It’s easy to take off.” You swallowed hard and nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady. “And you don’t have to wear anything underneath it…”

    You set your hands on his chest and stepped backward, “Red it is.” He nodded and smirked as you pulled away, reaching for the almost burgundy dress hung neatly on a hanger. You tossed it lightly onto the mattress and unclasped your bra, sliding your arms out of it and letting it fall to the floor, beside your panties. He was right, you didn’t need to wear anything underneath it. You pulled the dress up past your hips and tugged at the zipper, Billy quickly stepping in to help pull it all the way to the top. You quietly thanked him, resting your hand on the small necklace laid lightly on your chest. No wedding would be complete without the reminder of the night you first met.

    “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

    With a swift nod, you were on your way.

    Just a plain and simple chapel

    Where humble people go to pray

    I pray the Lord that I'll grow stronger

    As I live from day to day

    You flipped through all the paperwork and sighed, “I thought this was going to be like a real wedding. Vows, crying, all that kinda stuff.”

    Billy chuckled and signed his name again, gently licking his thumb before using it to flip to the next page, “You’re the one who didn’t want a huge wedding.”

    You rolled your eyes, “Oh yes, a huge wedding with Karen and Frank as our only guests. That’s just how I imagined the ceremony.” You signed your name and finally flipped to the final page—the marriage certificate. You looked up at Billy, “Now’s your last chance before you’re stuck with me for good.”

    He placed his hand on top of yours and kissed you gently, “Guess I’m stuck with you, then.” He clicked the pen again and signed William Russo one last time. Billy watched with a smile as you wrote your name and set the pen down on the table. You were officially, and forevermore, Mrs. William Russo.

    I've searched and I've searched

    But I couldn't find

    No way on earth

    To gain peace of mind

    First it was your heels that scraped the grass with each broad step, the slow curve of your foot meant your toes would reach the ground before you began again. Your footsteps were light, almost weightless as you ran, both arms held to wide beside you, the rush of wind exhaling through your skin. The sunlight beamed down on your face, despite the late time of year, the weather in New York was as gorgeous as ever. You couldn’t imagine today being any different—and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

    “You’re not running fast enough!” you called back at him, resting your hand against your forehead to protect your eyes from the sunlight. With a playful smile, he jogged closer to you, taking a long stride to stand right in front of you. He took an overwhelming breath before crashing his lips against yours. You could almost feel his heart racing against your chest.

    “You’re exhausting, sweetheart.” Your hand fell from your forehead and onto his chest, planting one more kiss to his cheek. “How far away is this place? We’re not even in the city anymore.” You shushed him and took his hand, dragging him forward with you. You quickly began speeding up your movements, pulling him at your side. The grass was getting taller, your feet almost hidden beneath all the green.

    For him, it felt like hours had passed since you began running but seeing the smile on your face was worth every second. You’d forced him to drive an hour out of the city, never telling him why, it was too nice of a view to bother you as you directed him down the backroads. You finally pressed your feet firmly onto the dirt and stopped dead in your tracks, twisting your body to face him, still holding onto his hand. “Right here.”

    Billy looked around, glancing at the meadow you stood in, the small plucks of dandelions and overgrown grass. “What’s right here?”

    You took a moment to catch your breath, “When I was a kid, my mom used to take me out here to run around. She said it was safer than some of the playgrounds in New York, I’m not quite sure—that’s beside the point. When I was seven, I told her I would take my husband here. She always laughed me off, it was ridiculous, but I’d totally forgotten about this place.” Billy looked at you intently as you spoke, never interrupting you, “Last night, it’s all I dreamt about. Running through this field with my mom, her face shining in the sunlight. I wanted to come back here with you.”

    Now I'm happy in the chapel

    Where people are of one accord

    Yes, we gather in the chapel

    Just to sing and praise the Lord

    You took another deep breath and let your chest fall dramatically, meeting Billy’s eyes as he took in the sight. He’d stayed silent for almost a moment too long—he didn’t see it. He didn’t see the beauty that was within your vision, the wind blowing your hair in seven different directions, the buttery color of light streaming down onto your bodies. You tucked your hair behind your ear, “It’s stupid, I know…”

    He licked his lips and let go of your hand, pointing to a loose direction in the grass, “The living room right here, hmm? Or maybe the kitchen?” You tilted your head and pinched your eyes closer together, confused. “The apartment is okay for now, but I don’t want to stay there forever. Construction will take a year, at least, but I can’t see why not?”

    You pressed your lips together, holding back a grin. “Billy, what the hell are you talking about?” You asked, pretending like you didn’t know what he was letting on.

    “Living—here. Having a family here.”

    You raised your hand to your mouth, biting down on your nail, “A family?”

    He finally made eye contact with you, stepping closer and evaporating any inch of space separating your bodies. He nodded proudly, moving his face closer to yours, “Well a house all the way out here would be lonely if it was just the two of us.” You nodded and looked up at him, almost irritated by the height difference, but too pleased by what you were hearing to truly care. “What are you thinking?”

    “I think it sounds lovely, Billy.”

    You tossed your fag onto the floor of the balcony, taking a deep breath as you watched the city move carelessly before you. Countless cars driving past, horns honking frustratingly if cars weren’t quite fast enough for the person behind them—but you didn’t care. You hugged his jacket closer to your body, keeping your arms warm as you watched the sunrise. You’d planted a single kiss to his forehead before getting out of bed, letting him relax in the warm sheets. If you were fast enough, you could climb back in beside him before he woke up, but then again, smoking a cigarette all the way to the stem seemed to take forever. You heard his bare footsteps approach the door, sliding the frame open and closed again once he was out on the patio with you.

    “You’re up early,” he pointed out, crossing his arms and leaning against the glass door. You pulled out another fag and lit it, quickly perching it between your lips. You inhaled deeply and shrugged.

    “Couldn’t sleep.” He nodded and plucked the cigarette out from your mouth and put it in his, his long fingers holding onto the fag as he inhaled the smoke. You ran your hand through your hair and turned to him, resisting the urge to stare at his bare chest. You’d gone at it twice last night, yet you never felt satisfied. “I dream about her every night.”

    “Is that why you’re smoking again?” he held out the cigarette to you and you graciously accepted with a small nod. Every night since he proposed you’d dreamt of her—your mother. Her ocean blue eyes, her contagious smile, the way whenever she was around you could never stop smiling. You missed her more than words could describe, but there was no bringing her back. You couldn’t help but wonder why she was haunting your dreams.

    “I’ll stop after this one, I promise,” you sighed and turned back to face the city, “I just needed a release.” You bit your lip and rubbed at the ring on your finger, trying to get her face out of your mind. The only other person that seemed to block her from your mind was your father, and you didn’t want to think about him either. He had a way with plaguing your life, overwhelming you until you pleaded for the end. You took another hit from your cigarette before stubbing it out on the railing, brushing off the remaining ash before tossing it onto the ground.

    Billy pressed the jacket that was around your shoulders closer to your skin, “Go lay down, I’ll be there in a minute.” You nodded and pulled the patio door open, taking small steps inside before a sick feeling twisted your stomach. Before you could open your mouth to call for him, you felt someone grab your face, thick leather covering your mouth so you couldn’t scream. You recognized the worn out material right away. The gloves belonged to your father.

    Next Part is up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #billy russo#william russo #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n #the punisher#marvel#marvel fic#dorian gray#aleksander morozova#the darkling#logan delos#prince caspian
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  • russobarnes
    09.04.2021 - 2 monts ago

    You Found Me (Part Eight) Billy Russo x Reader

    A/N: Surprise! Not much of a wait for this next chapter since it’s extremely fluffy, and I quite simply was excited to post it. Only two parts left, and happiness can’t last forever...

    *This fic has some canonically correct aspects but will mostly refrain from the original story line*

    Prompt: You and Billy had nothing in common: he grew up in the foster care system, while you had a loving family, when suddenly both of your lives flipped the other way around. He became a CEO of his own company and you fell into a repetitive drug addiction after losing everyone you had left. When the two of you are introduced, is Billy strong enough to pull you up from the hole or will you drag him down with you?

    Word Count: just under 2.8k

    Warnings: smut!

    *the word ‘fag’ is used in this fic as a reference to a cigarette (often used in colloquial British English). This word is NEVER used to refer to someone who is homosexual*

    Tag List: @fific7 @nerds4life246 @fictionwillneverdie @maralisa124 @blackbirddaredevil23 @swthxrry @dashlilymark @reg-arcturus-black

    The next two weeks passed in an almost dream-like bliss. Spending more time in bed than out of it, cooking dinners with him pressed against your back, kissing your neck until your knees were too weak to stand. Neither of you left unless absolutely necessary, though Billy had several meetings and conference calls that left him locked in his spacious, but lonely, office. His hair had grown out, the extra length becoming something you quite admired, but he quickly grew tired of the extra care it took to control.

    As soon as you set the clippers back down onto the granite, you were satisfied with how well you could cut hair. Never actually done that before. Billy ran his hands through his hair, turning his head to see both sides. You anxiously waited for his approval. He turned back to face you, “It’s my turn now, right?” He stood up abruptly from his stool and grabbed your waist, twisting you and pushing you against the counter. You covered your mouth as you laughed, he grabbed the razor again and flicked the switch, edging it closer to your hair as he inched his face toward yours. “Right, Mrs. Russo?”

    You grabbed his hand that held the buzzing razor, pushing it away from your face before you shoved your lips against his, opening your mouth and letting your tongue sneak between his teeth. You heard the razor drop to the counter; his hand held up in surrender. You impatiently started tearing at his shirt, trying to pull it up over his arms, and Billy quickly obliged. His heart was racing, he wasn’t thinking clearly. The pounding in your chest felt like the only solid thing in your dizzy world—you didn’t want to come up for air, but Billy forced himself backward. You couldn’t control the groan that escaped your lips, trying to hold onto the lingering feeling of his tongue.

    He licked his lips and looked at you, his mouth pressed into a hard line. You felt your heavy breathing as you watched him, holding onto the counter behind you as you waited for more. Your eyes fell from his down to his chest, the ragged scars on his left shoulder, the tone of muscle on his abdomen. You could feel yourself drooling at the thought of him—“We have to tell them,” he breathed, almost in disappointment. You pulled your thumb up to your mouth, nibbling gently at your thumb nail, tilting your head and teasing him.

    You inched closer to him again, lowering your hand over his crotch, feeling him harden at your touch. “Why are you discussing this right now?” You met his mouth again, biting on his lower lip, tugging it down as he groaned. He angled his head upward and closed his eyes. You wrapped your fingers in his belt loops, pressing his hips against yours as you forced your tongue into his mouth once again. You could feel him weakening at your touch, it only turned you on the more he melted into the palm of your hand.

    You moved one hand to the nape of his neck, using the other to unhook his belt, pulling it out of each notch until it fell to the floor with a crash. You palmed him again, ripping the zipper of his jeans down. His hands were held up beside you, letting you do whatever you please. He had no intention of stopping you—he was desperate. You grabbed his waist and tugged at his jeans and boxers, shoving them down beneath his knees. His erection immediately burst forward and caught your attention, you licked your lips and looked up at him, his eyes still closed, before getting down on your knees. You could feel the moisture building between your legs.

    You looked at his length before Billy’s hand shot down and fisted your hair impatiently. You placed one hand on his hip and grabbed his cock, feeling his warmth in your hand. He thrusted into your grip and you slid your hand up and down in a practiced rhythm. Billy was quiet still, his moans barely making any sound. That wasn’t enough. You moved closer and your lips made contact with his tip. Billy’s knuckles turned white as he clenched them within your hair—he was already dripping with pre-cum. Your tongue shot out to collect the mess he was making, and you could hear him growl in pleasure; it was music to your ears.

    His eyes were open now as he stared down at you, his mouth open almost bitterly as you made him moan. He tugged at your hair as you continued, long strides up and down his shaft until you were both finished. Billy’s hand moved from pulling your hair and gently gliding his fingers between the long strands, you looked up at him in awe. The way his chest would rise and fall, the look of concentration on his face, he was more than you ever could have dreamed of and now he was yours forever. You braced yourself to stand up as Billy began to redress, he gently grabbed your hand and looked at your ring intently. “We should tell them.”

    You nodded, I know. “So… we tell them.”

    “We tell them,” he repeated, a smile creeping up on his face.


    You nervously twisted the rings on your finger, small fragments shining even in the dim lights of Jo’s bar. Inviting Frank and Karen to dinner would be too formal—they’d suspect something as soon as you called. A casual text asking to meet at a bar seemed…nonchalant. Billy took a swig from his beer and looked around, six o’clock was coming sooner than either of you could handle.

    It still seemed like a blur—like a wild heroin high, if not better. Saying yes in a hospital room, refusing to let the engagement last longer than a week. If you were going to marry him, you wanted to do it now, so every moment for the rest of your waking life was spent with your husband by your side. “They’re gonna be pissed,” you finally breathed, picking at the hangnail on your finger, “We—We didn’t even invite them to the ceremony, granted it was in an extremely tiny courtroom, but we should have invited them.”

    Billy’s hand shot out to grab yours, he squeezed in affirmingly, “They’re going to be fine, sweetheart.” You looked into his raven eyes and smiled weakly. You tucked your hair behind your ear and nodded. “Frankie might be a little upset he didn’t get to throw a bachelors party, but he’ll get over it.” You took a sip from his beer and began picking at the label nervously. How would Karen react? Neither of them even knew this was a thought in either of your minds, you were busy recovering, missing all her calls and promising her you were okay, and you were. You’d never been better.

    Your head snapped toward the door when you heard the small chime, a cold gust of wind spread like smoke, cooling down the sweat in your palms. Karen’s long blonde hair was the first thing your eyes noticed, then her gorgeous smile as she spotted you, offering a small wave. You were careful to use the hand not bearing your shiny rings as you waved back, Billy’s hand sliding onto the small of your back. You grabbed the bottle from the counter and drank the rest of its contents before walking over to Karen and Frank, who was still observing the room. “Hi, sweetheart!” Karen called, pulling you into a warm hug, Billy’s hand being abandoned by his side as he greeted Frank. You wrapped your arms around her, hiding the rings the best you could, all sense of nervousness was quick to fade when she was in your presence.

    She ushered you back into your seat at the bar after saying hello to Billy. Just like old times, you thought to yourself, remembering that first night you met Billy. “Billy Russo,” he introduced himself with a smirk. His lips looked soft—you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like against your skin… but nothing compared to his eyes. They were raven colored, almost completely black, yet they seemed so exceedingly full of emotion. Light stubble scattered amongst his jawline; notable freckles intertwined with the light wrinkles on his skin.

    You quickly ordered a whiskey, something stronger to calm you down even further. As soon as you reached for the glass, Karen’s mouth opened, “Ho-ly shit.” You felt the drink fall from your hand and onto the floor, pieces of glass catapulting across the room. Billy’s hand gently took your arm, his eyes nervously watching yours. “Oh, god, are you okay?” Karen gasped and grabbed a few napkins, dabbing at your wet shirt. You frantically nodded and took the napkins from her, trying to dry yourself off. You could feel your face burning.

    “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m…I’m married,” you looked up at Karen, your heart pounding. Her eyes averted back to the diamond ring on your finger, a smaller, simplistic wedding band resting beneath it. “We got married.”

    Frank finally spoke, his words getting caught in the midst of laughter, “Holy shit is right.”

    Billy’s worried face broke into a smile as he nodded at you reassuringly. You scratched your arm and made eye contact with Karen again, who was staring at you in shock. “You…? When the hell—”

    “Last week,” Billy cut in, “At the courthouse.”

    You stayed quiet and ordered another drink, still patting lightly at your drenched shirt. You bit your cheek and swiftly took the glass from off the counter, gulping it down. No one seemed upset, beside you, but it didn’t relieve the pressure. You wished you could go back to your peaceful bubble in the apartment, spending all day in bed not sleeping. It was so relaxing there. “You got married?” Karen whispered only loud enough for you to hear. You looked at her, waiting for her to be angry with you. You slowly nodded, your shaky hand holding onto your third drink. Her lips twisted into a smile, “Sweetheart, I think another round is in order.”


    You stumbled back into the apartment, throwing your purse on the kitchen island, kicking off your heels. You’d lost count how many drinks you had, thankfully Billy only had two, or you never would have made your way back home. You scratched your arm and furrowed your brow before tip-toeing over the kitchen, picking up a glass before Billy’s quick hands snatched it away from you. “You’ve had plenty, hmm? Let’s have some water or maybe some coffee.”

    You groaned and rolled your eyes, “My husband’s no fun.” He laughed lightly and set the glass back down, leading you to the bedroom with your clumsy feet. “Did we really get married?” you turned to face him, pulling your shirt over your chest. His eyes lingered at the pink scar between your breasts, but he quickly nodded. You scratched your arm again and reached backward, trying to unclasp your bra. Billy stepped behind you and put his hands on yours before taking over, sliding the straps off the bra off your arms and letting it fall to the floor. “Tell me how it happened?” you licked your lips and twisted your neck to look into his dark eyes.

    “Well first I asked,” he leaned down and kissed your shoulder, leaving a small trace of his touch lingering on your skin, “and then you cried.” You covered your mouth as you laughed, eagerly nodding for him to continue. “and then you said yes. Fourteen times, to be exact.”

    “Yes,” you repeated.

    “And we came home, and I slipped your clothes off,” he reached down and unbuttoned your jeans, “and I kissed you here.” His lips met your neck, placing a small kiss, lifting his lips only enough to say, “and here.” He worked his way up your neck and onto your jaw. Billy’s hand wrapped around your neck, the other sliding into your underwear. You were already drenched before he touched you, but the moment he came in contact with your skin you were pooling more moisture into his hand. You closed your eyes and breathed in his cologne. “As soon as the courthouse opened we sped there as fast as my car would take us, we grabbed the first judge we saw and you pleaded with him, ‘oh, please marry us!’” he smirked, rubbing small circles onto your clit.

    “And I said ‘I do’” you breathed softly, almost a moan.

    “And you said ‘I do,’ then I did too. And you kissed me, like I was the only man you’d ever seen in your entire life.” He breathed softly, moving his hand from around your neck and onto your cheek, inching his face closer to yours, so close he could smell the alcohol in your breath. “Then you became my wife.”

    “I became your wife,” you murmured, shoving your lips into his.

    The next thing you knew he was leading you onto the mattress, pulling his shirt over his head and kissing you passionately. “Just like that,” he called out, his voice was rough, “Ride my fingers, sweetheart.” You eagerly nodded and did as he said, thrusting your hips forward in a smooth motion, the tight feeling of his touch inside you was driving you crazy; every time he curved his fingers forward, his other hand grasping tightly onto your ass. His fingers were long, and when he forced them in further you could have burst at the seams. He’d reached something you hadn’t felt in months, like he was physically cradling your inner core. You threw your head back as you rode his hand, repeating the motion until the warmth in your stomach was a burning fire, your legs twitching uncontrollably. Your mouth was wide open as you began to moan freely, almost excessively.

    “Don’t stop, Billy,” you begged, rocking back and forth on his hand, “Don’t.”

    He didn’t. Billy moved his head from directly in front of yours and lowered it to your breasts, wrapping his lips around your left nipple and giving it a hard tug. You pulled at his hair, making him groan in pain, but you knew he loved it. “Behave for me, darling,” he pulled away from your chest and looked up at you, pulling his fingers out from you, a wave of moisture poured from inside of you. You whimpered at the loss of his warmth as he licked his hand clean, taking his time sucking the skin softly. “You taste so good, but you know what’s even better than that?” You shook your head desperately as he grabbed your waist again, dragging your hips closer to him. “Feeling myself inside of in you.”

    You quickly took ahold of his length and stroked it repeatedly before adjusting yourself on top of it, and before you could catch your breath, he had forced himself inside of you. Thank God, we’re on the top floor of the apartment building. You couldn’t hold yourself back, nearly screaming in pleasure as he pulsated between your legs, rapidly thrusting in and out of you. His jaw was clenched as he focused, moving his hands to cup both of your breasts. “Keep going, Billy. Right there! Right—” you gasped as he hit your pleasure spot, making him smirk wildly, the serious look on his face was long abandoned.

    “That was fast, sweetheart.” You felt your cheeks burn red, but he shook his head, grabbing one of your cheeks and pulling your face closer to his. Your lips encapsulated his, his tongue slipping between your teeth. “Now beg.”

    You nodded frantically, whispering a soft, “please,” against his lips. He pulled his hips backward, waiting for you to speak again, to really mean it. “Billy, please.” His eyes met yours as he pushed into you again, harder than ever before. You could tell he was spilling inside of you, no condom separating your skin, but you didn’t mind. Every inch of your body was filled with immense pleasure, your toes curling as he finished.

    He pushed your hair from either sides of your face before pulling out one last time, trying to catch his breath, “You’re perfect sweetheart.” You breathed softly and leaned forward, kissing him as your necklace dangled loosely against your neck—the small embellishment shining in the moonlight. Billy lightly grabbed the chain, rubbing it between his fingers before abruptly letting go, “I love you, Mrs. Russo.”

    Next Part is up!

    #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #marvel#marvel fic#the punisher #the punisher fic #billy russo#william russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #jigsaw #billy russo fic #aleksander morozova#dorian gray#logan delos#prince caspian
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  • javi-djarins
    01.08.2020 - 10 monts ago

    life tends to come and go || river x payton

    Read on AO3 here ♡

    Summary: Payton remembers the first time he danced with River.

    Pairings: Payton Hobart x River Barkley || The Politican

    Genre: Fluff, angst

    Word Count: 1.5k

    Warnings: Mentions of death

    A/N: These two are about to end my whole career as a functioning human being. Fuck season 2, River and Payton were both bi and were deeply deeply in love with each other :) The title is taken from “I Won’t Share You” by The Smiths, which gives off major River x Payton vibes. Enjoy! ♡

    “So... should we kiss?”

    River couldn’t help a chuckle, endeared to Payton’s blush as he realized his silver tongue had abandoned him the moment they were alone together.

    “Sorry,” Payton said bashfully. His hands clasped tightly in his lap. “That was weird.”

    “It’s ok,” River said sweetly, his comforting voice patient and kind. He moved closer to Payton on the edge of the bed, forgetting everything that wasn’t the bespectacled, rosy-cheeked brunette. “I’d love to kiss.”

    Though Payton’s eyes sparked with excitement, River let Payton lead, wanting him to be comfortable. He leaned in, lips bowed like he wanted to kiss him, but River was patient; he could feel the shyness radiating off Payton in waves, and wasn’t surprised when Payton pulled back.

    “I’m sorry,” he said again. His laugh was nervous, deflecting. “I’m just a little nervous.”

    River ducked his head to meet Patyon’s eyes, showing that gentle smile that Payton felt was more genuine than anything else in the whole world. It almost made him embarrassed, to be seen and loved so honestly.

    “You don’t have to apologize, Payton,” he said softly, giving him a smile. “I’m nervous too.”

    “Not possible,” Payton said, and River’s laugh eased the tightness in his chest.

    “I’m always nervous when I’m around you,” River said. “The big scary politician. You’re kind of intimidating.”

    Payton snorted and made River smile. 

    “Please,” he scoffed. “I’m a joke compared to Astrid. I’m ten points down.”

    “Good thing I never cared about politics anyway,” River said lightly. “Just... maybe had a thing for politicians.”

    He brushed his knuckles over Payton’s cheek, feeling the warmth of his blush. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I just wanted to be with you.”

    Payton leaned into River’s touch. “That’s what I want too. More than anything.”

    River smiled. “So, we’ll just see where it goes?” he asked. “Is that ok?”

    Payton nodded. Then, feeling a sudden flash of bravery, or overconfidence, he moved closer and gave River the kiss he hadn’t earlier. River kissed him back slowly, easing it deeper; his fingers twined with Payton’s and he felt an incredible tenderness as he felt the slight shake to Payton’s hands.

    “Let’s dance,” River said gently. “Loosen up a little.”

    Payton breathed a laugh. “Ok.”

    River gave Patyon’s hand a final squeeze before getting up to grab his phone, scrolling through Spotify until he found the song he wanted. Music filled the quiet in Payton’s room; he laughed when River danced back over to him and drew him close to his chest. 

    “We’re just gonna take it easy,” River said sweetly, combing his fingers through Payton’s hair and framing his face with his big hands. Payton’s hands settled on River’s hips as they swayed to the music. Payton would have been happy to stay that way forever; River’s smile was warm and gentle, his dark curls falling over his forehead, his expression easy and happy in the dim light.

    “You’re beautiful,” Payton said suddenly, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he had a chance to think. He blushed but couldn’t take his eyes away from River’s smile.

    “Thank you,” River said sincerely. He traced his thumb over Payton’s bottom lip. “I think you’re beautiful too.”

    River led him gently, dancing them around the room to the slow song. Payton didn’t recognize the song, but the lyrics stayed with him: I won’t share you with the drive and ambition, the zeal I feel, this is my time. He felt it was a little on the nose and searched River’s eyes.

    “What band is this?” he asked innocently.

    A small smile tugged at the corners of River’s mouth. “The Smiths,” he said. “Do you like it?”

    Payton shrugged. Before he could answer, River took his hand and led him in a spin, making Patyon laugh. When Payton was back in River’s arms again, he pressed as close to him as he could without tripping up their steps.

    “The song’s not about pride,” River said, reading Payton’s worries without having to ask. “It’s not really about ambition, either. It’s about fear.”

    “Fear of what?”

    River’s eyes were impossibly kind, that patient blue that Payton felt expressed River’s heart more than anything he ever said or did.

    “Intimacy,” River said. “Vulnerability. Feeling things. He’s afraid to share everything inside him with a partner, or even a friend.”

    Payton’s laugh was mirthless. “Sounds familiar.”

    “It shouldn’t,” River said. He rubbed circles against Payton’s waist. “You’re sharing yourself with me, right now.”

    Payton closed his eyes. “It’s easy with you.”

    River chuckled and kissed the tip of Payton’s nose. “I’m glad. You have so much beauty and light to share, Payton. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

    Payton met River’s eyes. He had the thought that River could be slow dancing to The Smiths with Astrid, or anyone else, and he wondered how he’d gotten lucky enough to be this close to River, held in his arms. 

    “Why me?” Payton asked.

    “What do you mean?” River asked.

    Payton shook his head. “Why are you with me? Why are we doing this?”

    “Do you want the truth?”

    “I’m a politician, River, of course I want the truth. I can’t work with anything else.”

    River smiled. “Alright. I’m in love with you, Payton.”

    Payton was stunned into silence for a moment, looking up at River and that gorgeous grin, those boyish curls, that almost unbelievable sincerity. 

    “You... you are?” he offered lamely.

    River laughed. “Yes, I am.”

    Payton still couldn’t come up with anything of value to say. “Well, what about Astrid?”

    River shrugged. Payton was only vaguely aware that River was still leading them in a slow dance, but he was happy to let River lead.

    “I wish Astrid only good things,” River said. “But... it’s just not meant to be.”

    If anybody else had said that, Payton would have thought that sounded flippant and noncommittal, but everything River said was sincere and thoughtful.

    “I’m in love with you, Payton,” River said softly. “It’s different than with anyone else.”

    “Me too,” Payton said. He realized that wasn’t exactly a winning answer and quickly amended it. “I mean, I feel that it’s different with you, too.”

    He bit his lip, thinking of how best to say what he wanted to; under River’s gentle gaze, he realized he didn’t need to word things so carefully. River saw him, in a way no one else did; he heard what he meant to say, regardless of what came out of his mouth.

    “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you,” Payton said. He closed his hand a little tighter over River’s and felt River do the same in response.

    “I didn’t know what to make of you. I had everything so carefully planned out, and then I saw you the first day of school, and I felt like I wanted to throw all my plans out the window. Harvard, D.C., Alice, everything. I made myself get over you, for the good of the campaign, but when you showed up here - ” Payton laughed at the memory of the tall, confident boy with a sweet smile and a mop of curls, speaking fluent Mandarin. “I fell in love with you all over again. And when you kissed me...”

    River smiled. “What, like this?”

    He leaned in, just as gently as he had that day, brushing his fingers over Payton’s jaw. Payton’s breath was warm on his skin, and the sound Payton made had River weak in the knees.

    “I love you,” Payton said. He could feel River’s smile.

    “I love you too. I wanted to tell you that day, but I thought I might scare you off.”

    Payton gave a soft laugh. “Well, you’re stuck with me now. How do you feel about being First Gentleman of Saint Sebastian High School?”

    “Greatest honor of my life,” River teased.

    Payton smiled. “As it should be.”

    River put his hand to Payton’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek. “I’m glad I know you, Payton. I’m happy I can be someone you share yourself with.”

    Payton leaned into his touch. “I think you’re the only person who really knows me.”

    “We both do,” River said. “And that’s better than no one knowing at all. It would be a shame to never really know you. You deserve to be known as deeply as you want to be, especially by yourself.”

    “Will you help me?”

    River smiled and kissed him again. “Of course I will.”


    The song plays on Payton’s phone, unable to fill up the room that misses River’s warmth like Payton does in his very bones. He tries but he can’t conjure up River this time; maybe it’s too real, too raw. This memory that Payton has memorized, River dancing him around to The Smiths and kissing him gently, knowing him more than Payton had ever been known, and more than he ever would be again. Maybe it’s too close in his heart to the place he keeps pain.

    Payton almost feels the press of River’s fingers on his lips, gentle and tender in a way Payton had never been touched until he met River. The last lines of the song fade out, and Payton thinks he hears River’s voice singing them. I’ll see you somewhere, I’ll see you sometime darling.

    Payton restarts the song before it can end, and sits to listen on the piano bench with enough room left for River’s ghost.

    forever taglist:  @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​ @hazah​​ @dashlilymark​​ @punkgeekchic​​ @cultofbeatle​​ @stephydearestxo​​ @luckytrashgooprebel​​ @someone-get-a-medic​​ @chlobo6​​ @devin-marie​​

    (i’m having a litle bit of a panic about using this taglist because it’s for my queen stuff, but i hope you don’t mind being tagged in this!) ♡

    #the politician #the politician spoilers #payton hobart#river barkley #payton x river #hobarkley#ben platt#david corenswet #the politician fanfiction #payton x river fluff #payton x river angst #maddie writes stuff!
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  • letmeletmetrashyourlove
    12.04.2018 - 3 years ago
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