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[hungermakesmonsters]

From chapter three onwards please consider this gif to be the only thought (in George Takei's voice) in readers head every time she's alone with Billy 😂😂😂

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy. 

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard. 

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong. 

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go? 

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one. 

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday. 

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors. 

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad. 

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry? 

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different? 

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all. 

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse. 

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.” 

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was  hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears. 

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble. 

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan. 

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Three

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : M - frisky but not entirely smutty

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some friskiness and a mention of a self-inflicted cut. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : Keeping with my tradition of Billy going a little feral in the third chapter. Also a tumblr bug keeps messing up my tag lists.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Three

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Instead, you found yourself tossing and turning, playing that moment over and over in your mind; the way his dark eyes had seemed to look right through you, the way his cold hand had felt on your neck over your racing pulse. Just thinking about it caused your body to heat and your cheeks to burn with shame.

What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?

What would you have let happen?

Fingers gripped the fabric of your satin pyjamas, your hand anchoring itself as you resisted the urge to relieve the gentle throb that still lingered between your thighs.

What had he done to you?

Had he done anything at all?

You weren’t sure. You’d heard stories of vampires seducing people, bending them to their wills but, honestly, it hadn’t felt like that. And if it had been that, why had he pulled away? No, you’d been annoyed with him, you’d wanted to show him that you weren’t some silly naive child who didn’t know what she was doing, only it had backfired.

Eventually sleep claimed you, his words echoing in your mind as you drifted off; ‘like sunlight and innocence, sweet, like warm honey.’

Five hours later, your alarm startled you awake. You felt exhausted but sleep had cleared your head enough to let you think more objectively and to help you realise that you’d been a little ridiculous. His touch had caught you off-guard but he hadn’t done anything to you beyond that and, if anything, you’d been the one thinking about him kissing you. You were the one who had wanted him to kiss you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to go a little stir-crazy trapped in the penthouse, and Billy was - well, he was just about the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he annoyed you with the smug way he looked at you and the way he spoke to you like he didn’t think you really understood the world that you’d found yourself in, he’d been kind so far. At least, kinder than any employer needed to be to their employee.

In a moment of silliness, you’d allowed yourself to view that kindness as something more, you’d allowed yourself to engage in some ridiculous fantasy that he might kiss you, might want you, when all he’d really done was try to keep you company.

And Lissa had warned you of the effect that your embarrassment could have on vampires. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how your racing heart must have made him feel.

After getting out of bed, you tried to go about your day as usual, trying not to think about the night before but, instead, thinking of ways to avoid it in future. It didn’t take long for you to realise that the only thing that was going to stop you from going stir-crazy was going outside, being able to leave the penthouse for a few hours. You didn’t know what you’d do or where you’d go, but you were certain that it would help.

But you’d need permission to go outside, and that meant you were going to have to ask Billy. 

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed - of course he’d agree, why wouldn’t he? Your job was to provide blood, and all that really took was ten to twenty minutes of your day. As long as there was something waiting for him in the fridge every day, did it really matter where you’d been?

Of course, you understood that there were other rules, things you’d have to remember; only eating food from the approved list (though, once you started thinking about that you weren’t sure why that was so important), no sex (something you were embarrassingly used to), and not letting any other vampires feed from you (which you had no intention of doing regardless of Mr Russo’s rules). The point was that you could stick to his rules just as easily out of the penthouse as you could inside of it so, to your mind at least, there really was no reason for him to refuse to give you permission to go out.

You distracted yourself by doing some baking, paying more attention to the approved food list than you had since arriving. Maybe you’d ask Billy about it, get him to explain why you weren’t allowed to eat certain things. For one little cynical moment, it almost felt like he wanted to control every aspect of your life, even though your job didn’t require it.

Once you’d had dinner, you decided to remain in your rooms, distracting yourself with Netflix for an hour or so before it was time to draw blood and take it out ready for Billy. 

You stepped out of your quarters just as he was emerging from his rooms. For a second he seemed almost shocked that you weren’t in your usual place on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to dwell on the thought. Instead his eyes dropped to the blood in your hand.

“Excellent timing,” he said with a grin, heading towards the kitchen.

For a second you hesitated, not saying a word when you finally made your way towards him, watching his back as he pulled an insulated travel mug from a cupboard. 

Was going to take your blood with him? Was he going to walk the streets of New York sipping your blood like it was his venti cappuccino from Starbucks? The thought unsettled you, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you placed the bottle down on the counter beside him and took a step back.

“Did you not watch the sunset tonight?” He asked, his attention momentarily turning to you. You shook your head and mumbled something about being tired. If he cared, he didn’t let it show, quickly turning his attention back to your blood. “Still warm,” he remarked quietly, running his teeth over his lower lip as he poured it into his travel mug.

A memory from the night before came back to you, completely unbidden; the sound he’d made, that gentle almost-moan from the back of his throat. Your blood had still been warm then too - was that how he preferred it? Did it remind him of drinking from a person rather than a glass? You shook your head, trying to force that thought away.

“I -” you opened your mouth and the word just tumbled out.

Billy turned back to you, pressing the lid onto the mug in his hand. He waited a beat before prompting you to continue; “yes?”

“I -” you started again, your cheeks warming and your heart beating a little fast. The way his eyes narrowed a little told you that he could hear it, and that just made you feel worse. “I was wondering if I could have permission to go outside tomorrow.”

“Oh,” that single syllable making your request sound banal and trivial. He regarded you for a moment. “No, not to tomorrow,” he decided, but before you could open your mouth to respond, he continued; “we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

“But, I -” you started but stopped the moment he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you not happy here? Would you like to terminate your contract?” He asked, as if you’d been asking him for far more than just a few hours outside.

“It’s not that,” you tried to explain, again feeling so small in front of him, “It’s just... lonely being on my own all the time, and being cooped up indoors is -”

“I said we can discuss it tomorrow evening.”

You fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor as he walked away from you, heading towards the elevator. Once he was inside and the door had shut, you kicked the nearest kitchen unit in frustration, achieving nothing but hurting your bare foot.

Storming back to your room, you felt - you felt like a child, like you’d been refused permission to play outside with your friends. It felt like you’d just been grounded, even though you’d done nothing wrong. 

But you weren’t a child, you were an adult, and he had no right to make you feel so small and pathetic.

You paced your room in anger, feeling claustrophobic, like you’d never get to leave. He’d make you spend a whole year trapped indoors just because he could. It felt like you’d traded one prison for another by coming to New York, by taking this job. But, if you left now, where would you go? 

As much as you wanted to call Lissa and tell her you wanted your things so you could leave, you had no money and nowhere to go but home, and that fate seemed far worse than this one. 

Despite feeling tired, you spent another restless night before sleep claimed you, and you woke with a headache that followed you for the rest of the day. You felt listless and, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t want to follow the schedule that you’d created for yourself; you didn’t take a walk on the treadmill, didn’t visit the library to listen to music or read, you could barely even bring yourself to eat beyond some toast for breakfast and noodles for dinner.

He said you could talk about being allowed out that evening but, the longer you were left with that thought, the more you managed to convince yourself that he’d just say no. So, you decided to save him the effort of the conversation. You drew blood early, long before you expected him to emerge from his rooms, and placed it in the refrigerator for him before returning to your bedroom and locking the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening just like you’d spent the day; in your pyjamas watching crappy cartoons on Netflix, trying not to think about how you were going to survive a whole year of this when you hadn’t even managed to make it to two weeks before starting to come apart at the seams.

It was easy to lose track of time and fall asleep on the sofa in your room only to wake up a few hours later, uncomfortable and cold. You eventually went to bed, not bothering to set an alarm for the next morning, laying in until some time after midday. 

The extra sleep didn’t help matters and, somehow, you still felt exhausted. Something else you decided to blame on being stuck indoors. 

You forced yourself to shower and wash your hair before putting on some clean clothes, hoping that it would make you feel a little bit better about yourself. It did, but you definitely hadn’t done yourself any favours by not eating much the day before. You tried to make up for it by cooking yourself a proper meal for dinner.

Drawing blood left you feeling sick but you decided to get it over and done with early, so you could crawl back into bed, but you should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, you were surprised to find him out there, sitting on the sofa, hours before sunset. You faltered, thinking about turning back, but you had blood for him. He didn’t even have to look to realise you were there.

“I must have missed you last night,” he said, finally turning to look at you, ignoring your obvious uncertainty. “Or were you avoiding me?”

“I thought my job was to provide you with blood, not be your friend,” you answered sharply, heading towards the kitchen, wanting to get the moment over and done with as quickly as possible.

“You’re upset with me?” When the question was left unanswered, he got to his feet and followed you to the kitchen. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you permission to go out?”

You didn’t even look at him as you placed the blood in the fridge and turned to head back to your room. But he wasn’t going to let you walk away. He stepped in front of you, blocking you, his cold hand beneath your chin urging you to look at him.

“I can’t fix whatever this is if you don’t explain it to me,” he told you, hand lingering beneath your chin, making sure you didn’t look away.

Standing in front of him like this, you finally got a true appreciation of his height and just how much he towered over you.

“You told me that I have power in this arrangement,” you spoke around the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“You do, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Then why can’t I go out? Why is it such a big deal for me to go to a coffee shop or a museum for a couple of hours?” You asked, trying to ignore the cold, light touch of his fingers. “Why do I even need permission?”

“Because it isn’t safe,” Billy stated flatly. “For either of us.”

You weren’t sure what explanation you’d been expecting him to offer, but that certainly hadn’t been it.

“What do you mean?” Your confusion written across your face.

“I thought you understood what you were getting into when you took this job,” Billy sighed, his hand finally dropping back to his side

“I -” your gaze dropped again but only for a moment, “- I thought I did too.”

As much as it made you feel helpless, like some stupid, naive child, you were willing to confess in this instance that you didn’t understand. But you wanted to. You wanted to know why he seemed so intent on keeping you in the penthouse, and why he thought your going outside might be dangerous for either of you.

“Just because this is legal it doesn’t mean that people are accepting of it. There are those that would hurt you to get to me, or simply because they don’t agree with our arrangement.” Another sigh slipped from his lips and you watched as his shoulder lifted in an uncomfortable half-shrug. “I told you, you’re my responsibility, and if anything happened to you -”

“Why isn’t it safe for you if I go out?” You asked, wanting to understand which of you he was truly trying to protect.

“Because I’m the monster that’s taking advantage of the sweet, innocent young girl’s desperation, keeping you in my thrall so I can drain your blood,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if that was what was actually happening here. “If anyone found out, they’d burn the building to the ground.”

There was something about his voice, something that you knew should have scared you, something dark and sinister. You felt your cheeks start to heat, and that strange unwanted feeling growing in your stomach.

“I’m not -”

“What? Sweet? Innocent? Desperate?” The corners of his lips curled upwards as his dark eyes stared into yours. “Or do you really believe you’re not in my thrall?”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning and, despite taking a slow breath, your heart started to beat a little fast. His lips continued to curl upwards, and it took you a few seconds to realise that he was joking.

“That’s not funny,” you remarked quietly.

“It doesn’t have to be funny,” he shrugged, “it’s what people will believe regardless of what I do.”

“It’s not like I’d go out and tell people what I do for you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Who’d want to admit to any of this?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and you immediately felt bad. 

As complicated as all of this was and as much as you didn’t like how much control he had over things, it was what you’d accepted and agreed to. He wasn’t holding you prisoner, you could quit whenever you wanted. By admitting that you’d want to keep this hidden, you were admitting to being ashamed of what you were doing, you were admitting that some part of you felt like it was wrong.

All he’d really done was give you a job. And all he was doing was trying to exist.

Billy allowed the silence to linger for a few moments before breaking it.

“Like I said, we can discuss the possibility of you going out, but I would prefer that you didn’t go alone.”

“But, how - I mean, you can’t -”

“Go out during the day? No, I can’t,” he decided to intervene and save you any further embarrassment. “But I have human friends or, if you’d prefer, there are plenty of places open after dark. We could even go to dinner...”

“Dinner?” It seemed like a strange offer for him to make. “I didn’t think vampires ate?”

Billy gave the slightest huff of laughter, no doubt at your lack of knowledge. He shook his head, obviously forcing back his smile.

“We can eat, it just doesn’t sustain us the way it does for humans.”

“Oh,” was the only word you allowed to fall from your lips. You had questions - so many questions - but you didn’t want to ask because it would just show your ignorance further. And it didn’t even cross your mind that your boss had basically just asked you to go to dinner with him.

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to arrange anything straight away, but if you really want to go out I’ll sort something out. I just need you to be patient, okay?” He told you and you nodded, not happy but certainly feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d eventually be able to go outside.

The conversation over, you wanted to return to your room and rest, hoping you’d feel better by tomorrow. But you didn’t move and neither did Billy. He stayed silent, watching you, considering you for a moment.

Then his hand was on your cheek and your breath caught.

“You look tired,” his voice soft now, sad even.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

“You’re not. You’re not sleeping enough and you haven’t been eating properly.”

“How -” you shook your head, deciding you didn’t want to know, but Billy decided to answer regardless.

“Your blood.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “The agreement is that you stay in good health, that includes eating and sleeping. I know that all of this has been an adjustment for you, but I need to know that going forward you’ll do what’s required to take care of yourself.”

You almost wanted to laugh. For a split-second you’d almost thought that he might actually be concerned for you, that he might care about your wellbeing. But, no, he only cared because - what? Your blood didn’t taste as nice when you were tired and hungry? 

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you answered, finally forcing yourself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

He was about to remind you to call him Billy but, obviously, he thought better of it. Nodding, he let you go.

“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night,” he told you and, again, all you could do was nod as you slipped back through the door to your rooms and headed for your bedroom.

As you sat down on your sofa and turned on the TV, you couldn’t help but think over everything that had been said. You could still hear the bitterness in his voice when you’d admitted that you didn’t want anyone to know about your arrangement. With time to think about it, you knew it wasn’t fair; people might not accept or understand it but, really, it was no one else’s business what either of you did. Besides, what was the alternative? Plenty of people sold blood, a lot of them made a living working for blood farms. How was this any different? 

You even grudgingly understood why he wasn’t comfortable letting you go out without an escort. The longer you sat and thought about it the more conflicted you felt. Billy seemed to be trying and you were - you didn’t even know what you were doing anymore. You were being difficult. In part that was because of him, because of his demeanour, because he was just so damned attractive, but that didn’t excuse your behaviour.

Regardless of how you felt about him or about anything, you’d agreed to his conditions at the start of this and you didn’t get to throw a tantrum when you didn’t get your way. If Billy was willing to meet you halfway, then that would have to do.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, you sat back and watched TV, trying to relax before you finally went to bed.

The next day was a reset, you started your little schedule all over again, and you decided that you were going to make more of an effort. This was a job and you were getting paid over two and a half thousand dollars a day, you needed to remember that fact. You needed this to work out. It was only a year and, after that, you’d never have to follow rules again.

You felt better, you felt like the last few days had been nothing more than a bump in the road; you were still getting used to everything, still getting used to dealing with Billy, that was all. 

It was nice having some space, knowing that you wouldn’t have to try and make conversation with him that night. It meant you could sit and read out in the penthouse and watch the sun going down. Though, it would have been a lie to say that you didn’t wonder where he was or what he was doing.

Before going to bed that night, you drew blood and left it in the fridge for him, for whenever he returned. Tomorrow, you’d bring up the subject of going outside again, even if it meant going out at night with him. With a tired sigh, you closed your eyes and quickly fell asleep

The sound of breaking glass and a pained howl pulled you from your sleep. It was still pitch black outside and, without thinking, you quickly left your room and headed out into the penthouse. 

The lights were on and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. The source of the noise was easy to spot; Billy in the kitchen, braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up, his head hanging forwards. The floor was a mess of blood and broken glass, and it was starting to become apparent what had happened here.

“Mr Russo?” You called softly, daring to slowly step towards him. He didn’t answer, so you tried again. “Billy?”

Tension seemed to fill his body, like a predator getting ready to pounce, but he didn’t move.

“Stay back.” 

It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t that rough, dark tone that you’d been playing over in your head, it was something else. A snarl, an angry and desperate sound that had managed to claw and tear its way out of him.

Your heart started to pound, every ounce of common sense you possessed telling you to turn back, to lock yourself in your room. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him not knowing if he was alright. It just wasn’t how you were raised.

“What happened?” A stupid question, but it helped break the silence. “Do you need help cleaning -”

He turned and your heart skipped a couple of beats, squeezing in your chest, causing your breath to catch. His dark eyes were almost completely black, like endless voids staring at you; his face was paler than ever and his hands were trembling uncontrollably at his sides.

You’d only seen something like this once before but you knew immediately what was happening.

He was  hungry.

“I said stay back,” his teeth bared, his voice causing your stomach to knot.

By the time you reached the kitchen, he’d turned to face you, his body pressed back against the counter like he was trying to keep himself away from you. You mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, trying to figure out how to help him. You couldn’t leave him like this - if not for his sake, but for the sake of anyone who might come across him.

(You were going to have to feed him, but you couldn’t let him bite you. You wouldn’t let him bite you.)

With slow movements, you reached for the cutlery drawer and cautiously removed a knife. You saw his eyes widen, a flicker of shock and fear on his face, like he thought you were going to turn the knife on him. But, without pause or hesitation, you drew the blade across your palm and offered him your bloody hand.

“Here,” you offered timidly.

“What are you -” but his words fell dead the second he looked at your hand. For a second he shrank back, fighting his nature as the hungry look on his face turned more desperate. Without warning, he surged forwards, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips. Your heart continued to race as you felt his lips against the wound, pounding an uncomfortable rhythm that echoed in your ears. 

You heard that sound from him again only, this time, it wasn’t suppressed; a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest as he pressed himself closer and closer to you. He didn’t stop pressing forward until you felt the counter at your back, his hard body against yours, leaving no space between you.

The floor disappeared beneath you. No, you quickly realised that you had been lifted up, placed on the counter. His hips slotted between your thighs, pressing closer still, and - oh.

You gasped at the hard outline of his cock between your legs and the way he started to grind himself against you. It was too much and not enough all at once. It was wrong and you knew it shouldn’t be happening but all you could think about was satisfying the dull throb that you’d felt between your legs for days. It wasn’t long before your cheeks started to heat, feeling the wetness of your arousal quickly soaking through your satin pyjama bottoms. Instead of coming to your senses and pulling away, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

A whimper escaped you as his free hand slipped beneath your pyjama top, his cold fingers trailing upwards until his hand was palming your breast, his icy touch causing your nipple to pebble. 

The longer it went on, the more it felt like some wonderful dream, like it wasn’t really happening. You felt like you could float away at any more moment, the whole world turning on its axis, all because of him. You couldn’t think why, couldn’t summon enough rational thought to think those feelings through, not when you could feel just how thick and hard his cock was.

His lips pulled from your hand, leaving you feeling breathless. The blood smeared across his mouth should have disgusted you - everything about this should have disgusted you - but it didn’t. All you could think about was the euphoric sensation of his hips moving against yours, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point, so you didn’t shy away when his blood-slick lips slanted over yours or when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

The taste of your blood on his lips barely even seemed to register. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. Everything about the moment was intoxicating, you felt drunk, lightheaded, like you couldn’t even control your own body anymore. All you could do was exist in the moment.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, blood soaking into his shirt as you held tight. Soon enough, your hips started moving against his, desperately seeking the sensation that now felt so close. All the while Billy kept kissing you, letting out unrestrained groans against your lips, obviously chasing his own satisfaction.

Desperate for breath, your lips finally pulled from his, your head dropped back taking gasped breaths between your moans. But it wasn’t enough to stop the room from spinning, to stop the feeling of losing yourself completely.

“My little hummingbird,” you heard him groan. 

Fingers fisted his hair as his lips moved to your neck, rough kisses quickly giving way to sucking and licking at your skin, while the press of his cock became more frenzied. Then you felt the scrape of teeth against your throat and -

Your vision swam, overcome by the most violent orgasm you’d ever experienced; your body shivering and shaking with the intensity of it before you slumped forward into his arms, losing consciousness.

End Note : Idk why Billy always goes feral in the third chapter but here we are. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!!

Tumblr is being stupid and only letting me mention 5 people at a time so this week I'm going to try putting all the mentions in the comments for the tag list. Sorry if you didn't get tagged last chapter

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday

[hungermakesmonsters]

Masterlist

Billy Russo Fics Catch Me If You Can

Status : Complete Rating : R (18+ only, minors DNI) Plot Summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you. Chapter List : CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | EPILOGUE

Bonus Chapters : CHRISTMAS

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Status : In Progress Rating : R (18+ only, minors DNI) Plot Summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think. Chapter List : CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Two

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : Spoiler warning for anyone who hasn't read The Picture of Dorian Gray (though can I really spoil a book that's over 130 years old? idk).

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Two

This is going to be fun.

That was what he’d told you, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. 

As you laid in bed that night, you wondered where he was, you wondered what he was doing. What had he meant when he told you that he liked you? Did you even want to be liked by him? The more you thought about it, the more you realised just how strange the conversation had been. At the time it felt like he was taking a measure of you, trying to understand you, but not necessarily trying to know you.

At the time you’d felt like you were on the back foot, too shocked by his sudden appearance to really learn anything about him.

But, again, you had to wonder if that was something you really wanted. After all, he was a vampire and there was still so much that you didn’t know about their world and the way that they lived.

You fell asleep that night thinking about his dark eyes and the way he’d looked as he’d sipped your blood.

The next morning you woke with a start, realising that you'd forgotten to set an alarm the night before and you’d overslept. Not that you had any reason to wake up before midday, but you were certain that if you didn’t find a way to keep some sort of structure in your life over the next year, you were going to lose your mind.

So, you got up and got breakfast before spending half an hour on the treadmill, taking a slow walk, imagining you were on your way to the Met. Every day you were going to imagine a new place you’d be able to see in the city once your contract was over. After your walk and a quick shower, you got dressed and headed out into the main penthouse. 

You weren’t surprised that he wasn’t out there - because, of course he wasn’t, it was the middle of the afternoon - but you still felt... something. Disappointment? No, loneliness. 

For a few seconds your eyes caught on his door before you headed into the library.

The next few hours were spent going through his books and his record collection, looking for something, anything, that might tell you a little more about him. But you didn’t know what you were looking for, and there was no way of telling which of the books, if any, held any real sort of value to him. Dorian Gray, you guessed, had to mean something because he’d noticed it was missing from the shelf, but there was everything from the classics to more recent books, spanning almost every genre you could think to name.

(Though you did have to wonder if he’d purchased Dracula before or after being turned.)

Your search for clues seemed fruitless; you couldn’t even begin to guess his age from his record collection. There was everything from classical music to records that you knew were only released last year. Everything was too eclectic. Normally eclectic was something that you liked, you hated the idea of being stuck with only one genre or type or music or book, but it was frustrating how little you’d been able to discover.   

What made it worse, you came to realise, was that he’d been able to read you as easily as he might read one of his books. He’d only had to look at you to understand that you’d taken this job to get away from something.

But you weren’t going to let your mind wander to thoughts of home.

That evening you sat and waited on the sofa realising for the first time that you could get an amazing view of the sun setting over Central Park and the city from there. You’d brought the battered copy of Dorian Gray with you, but every time you tried to focus on it, you found yourself distracted by the view.

To your disappointment, the clock struck 9pm and Mr Russo still hadn’t appeared, so you made your way back to your room.

It was silly to feel disappointed, but you weren’t used to feeling so completely alone. Back home there had always been someone around, even when you wanted nothing more than to be alone. And, the rest of the time, you’d had social media to slake your thirst for connection and companionship. Now there was nothing but the walls of the penthouse, TV and Mr Russo’s collection of books.

The next day passed similarly; you got up, you had a little walk on the treadmill before showering, then you picked out your outfit for the day.Then you headed to the library and started to make you through Mr Russo’s vinyl collection, listening to some of the albums that grabbed your attention, keeping the volume down in case the vampire was sleeping in his rooms.

That was the thing that was really starting to bother you - you didn’t even know if he was home. There was no way of telling if he was just beyond the door to his room, or if he was even in the city. Not knowing just made the loneliness more acute.

That evening, after you’d eaten and drawn blood, you found yourself on the sofa again watching the sunset, his book on your lap and a couple of the muffins you’d made, sitting on a plate on the table. Sugar seemed to help after drawing blood, though you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.

“Making yourself at home, I see,” his voice pierced the silence so suddenly that you started.

You turned from the window quickly, to find him standing by his door, smiling and very obviously impressed with himself.

“How long have you been stood there?” Not even trying to disguise the shock or annoyance in your tone. 

He didn’t answer, instead he started towards the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass before retrieving today’s blood from the fridge. 

“It’s quite the view,” he stated, his back to you, “I suppose someone should appreciate it.”

“You mean you don’t?” Curious. Why bother having a penthouse like this if he didn’t care about the view?

“Looking at the sunset isn’t exactly enjoyable for vampires,” he shrugged, turning and making his way towards the sofa.

“I thought the windows made the sunlight safe for you?” Or maybe you were just being stupid. You hated how little you know, how little you’d learned before taking the job. And, now, without the internet, you couldn’t even try to learn about it.

“They make it safe, yes,” he stated, sitting down, not directly next to you, but much closer than he had been the first time you met. “But seeing the sun and knowing that I’ll never feel its warmth on my face again, makes it a little unbearable.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t expect that to get a laugh.

“You apologise a lot for someone who hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

Yet? You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t think it wise to ask. As far as you were concerned, you weren’t going to do anything wrong while you were there.

“It’s just how I was raised, I guess,” you shrugged, your gaze dropping to his glass, to your blood.

Mr Russo gave a hum, his gaze still fixed on you, looking right through you. It was enough to make your heart beat a little faster, even though Lissa had warned you about such things, but controlling it was easier said than done. 

“Are you still settling in?” He asked. “I know that all of this can take a while to adjust to.”

“It’s -” you started and stopped, wondering if it was wise to be honest about it, “- a little lonely. I’m not used to going for days without someone to talk to. Normally I’d at least have the dog, but...” you trailed into a sigh, reminding yourself that this was what you agreed to. 

“I see,” he nodded, face offering the slightest slither of sympathy. “I’ll do what I can to help with that.”

Silence fell for a few moments before his eyes dropped to your lap, to the book that you’d started to tightly grip at some point after his sudden appearance. 

“Are you enjoying the book?” He asked and you looked down, noticing how white your knuckles were.

“Yes,” your cheeks started to warm, “very much.”

Your fingers flexed, releasing your grip on the book and, instead, you pressed your hands flat on your lap.

“Have you read it before?”

“No, it’s not -” you paused for a second, trying to think of the best way to explain it to him, “- it’s not the sort of book that was deemed acceptable where I’m from.”

“Ah,” he nodded, still looking very amused by everything, by you. “And you’re reading it now as - what? An act of rebellion against the way you were raised? Or are you just curious to see how bad it is?”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered without hesitation, shrugging, “I always thought it was a stupid rule. People should be allowed to read what they want and draw their own conclusions. That’s the point of art; it means something different to everyone that views it. And I don’t like being told how to feel about things.”

The amusement on his face slowly started to turn to something a little more genuine, something a little more interested. 

“What part are you up to?”

“He’s going to ask Sybil to marry him.”

He gave the slightest of nods. “And what do you think about that?”

It was a strange question, but perhaps that was because you weren’t used to people wanting to know your thoughts or opinions on things. You took a slow breath and he didn’t pressure you, giving you a moment to get your thoughts in order.

“I think it’s a bit soon. He hasn’t really known her very long and he seems more infatuated with who she is when she’s on stage than her as a person, but...”

“But?” He prompted gently.

“If he loves her half as much as he thinks he does, then maybe they could be happy together? It seems like he needs someone who’ll love him, someone who he can love more than himself, and someone who’ll get him away from Lord Henry.” Even though you were perfectly happy with your opinion, you still felt your cheeks warming again.

“You think he needs love?” Another unexpected question.

“Well... doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you think he really deserves it?”

“Does anyone?”

He paused for a second, looking ready to say something before obviously changing his mind. “So, do you believe in love at first sight? Like Dorian falling for Sybil?”

“I -” you faltered, looking down at the book on your lap, trying to escape the dark depths of his eyes for a moment, “- I don’t know. I find it hard to believe in anything I’ve not experienced myself.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve never felt love at first sight,” you avoided the question, forcing yourself to look back up. “Have you?”

“No, not at first sight.”

At that, he seemed to relent, falling silent and letting his gaze drift towards the window again, lifting his glass and taking a sip. You reached for a muffin, almost gasping as his cold fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and pulled your arm towards him. Your lips parted, ready to ask the obvious question, but it fell dead on your tongue when his thumb ran over the bruising at the crook of your arm from drawing blood. He stared at it for a second before his eyes returned to yours.

“Do I need Lissa to come and help you draw blood in future?” He asked, and you couldn’t tell if he was concerned or annoyed.

“No, it’s fine,” you gave a gentle tug against his grip, but he didn’t let go. “I just bruise easily. I didn’t even notice it.” 

His fingers tightened a fraction.

“While you’re here, you’re my responsibility. I hope you understand that.”

“That’s not -” but he wasn’t finished.

“If anything was to happen to you, it would be my fault. I need to know that you’ll be more careful in future.” There was an edge to his words, something that made your stomach knot. Did he think that you were incompetent, that you couldn’t do the job? Or was he just worried  that he’d be blamed if something happened to you?

“I’ll be more careful,” you told him but, still, he kept hold of your arm, thumb hovering just above the bruising, a ghost of a touch that made your heart race.

“I might be your employer, but you should understand just how much power you have in this arrangement,” his voice turned almost soft as he let you go. Before you could even think to ask what he meant, he’d drained his glass, placed it down on the coffee table and was heading towards the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled out of your mouth almost automatically, not sure what else you were supposed to say.

“You can call me Billy,” he told you as the elevator doors slid open and he stepped inside.

And, then, he was gone.

Again, he’d left you with more questions than you ever thought you’d get answers to. You wanted to feel frustrated, annoyed even, at the way he breezed in and out of conversations, as if you were a plaything, just there for him when he was bored, but all you could think about was his touch.

His hand had been so cold, like death’s icy grip and, when you looked down, you found your arm was covered in goosebumps.

Tomorrow, he’d said. He was going to see you again tomorrow. (Probably because you’d complained about being lonely.) Perhaps you’d be able to learn a little bit more about him, perhaps you’d be able to ask him what he meant when he told you that you had power here.

Before returning to your rooms for the night, you took a moment to move his empty glass from the table, rinsing it out in the sink and returning it to the cupboard where it belonged. The rest of the evening was spent trying to concentrate on reading, in part because you were invested in the book, but mostly because you wanted to have something to talk with him about tomorrow.

But, again, you found yourself distracted; by the conversation you’d had, by the things he’d said and the way he’d looked when he said them and, most of all, by the way his touch had felt on your arm.

It was silly. Ridiculous. You put it down to being trapped indoors for the last ten days and you having spoken to all of two people in that time. It wasn’t him. He could have been anyone and you’d no doubt have felt the same way. You were just starved for human contact.

(Only Billy Russo wasn’t human, was he?)

You kept thinking about his dark eyes and the way he laughed, the subtle way his lips curled up when he found something you said amusing. There was no shame in admitting that he was pretty. 

Pretty in a way that would never fade or alter. Just like Dorian Gray.

Though, as you continued to read, you realised that that comparison certainly wasn’t flattering.

The next day passed much the same as the days before it and, as the hours ticked by, you found yourself almost looking forward to seeing him. Though you didn’t allow yourself to feel excitement, in case he disappointed you by not appearing. You stayed in your rooms until it was almost sunset.

He was already there waiting for you when you stepped out into the penthouse proper, today's blood in one hand, a pack of cookies in the other, and the book wedged under your arm.

“Oh,” you stopped so abruptly you almost fell over your own feet.

“Good evening,” he grinned.

“Good evening, Mr Russo,” you replied, still not moving.

“Billy,” he reminded you. “If we’re going to be living together for a year, you might as well call me Billy.”

“Billy,” you repeated, nodding before looking down. “I have your - I mean, I’ve got today’s -” you struggled, eyes fixed on the sealed bottle of blood in your hand, fresh and still warm.

You could feel your cheeks start to heat, not sure what the protocol was in this situation.

“I’ll take that now,” he said but didn’t move.

For a moment more, you remained frozen, feeling utterly ridiculous - and you were certain that he was enjoying watching your confusion.

“Okay, I’ll - I’ll put this in a glass for you,” he didn’t object, so you made your way to the kitchen and set about pouring him a drink.

It was hard not to feel a little horrified - this seemed as close to offering him a vein as you ever hoped to get - but you forced down the discomfort.

“I hope the long sleeves aren’t to cover up more bruises,” he said softly when you finally approached the sofa and took a seat, near him but with enough space that another person would have fit between you.

“No, Mr - Billy. It’s just been cold today.”

“Oh, I can’t say that I noticed...” because of course he hadn’t. “The thermostat is in the library, change the temperature whenever you need to.”

You handed him the glass, a shudder running up your spine when his cold fingers seemed to deliberately graze yours. Your breath caught as you watched him lift the glass to his lips, his eyes closed as your blood touched his lips and you heard the softest sound from the back of his throat. Butterflies filled your stomach and your eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky slowly turn from blue to a progressively darkening pinkish-orange hue.

Billy lowered his glass and remained silent, his eyes following yours to the window, allowing the silence to linger until you chose to break it.

“I thought you didn’t like watching the sunset?” You asked, not daring to look his way.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one and even longer since I had someone to watch it with,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d give it another go.”

“So, the others, the ones before me -”

“I don’t think they cared to notice it,” he cut you off. There was something clipped about his tone, something that told you he didn’t want to talk about them. His attention turned to the book and the packet of cookies resting on your lap. “Were you planning on reading?”

“Yes, or - I don’t know, maybe..." you sighed, finally allowing yourself to look at him. He gave you a questioning look, wanting you to elaborate. “You didn’t warn me about Sybil.”

“I didn’t want to spoil it for you,” a hint of amusement slipped into his tone. “Are you disappointed that they didn’t get their happily-ever-after?”

You looked at him for a moment and quickly found yourself feeling a little annoyed at the implication that you had expected it to be that easy, that you were some hopeless romantic looking for a happy ending in the most ridiculous of places.

“I’m not some naive child. I don’t know what I expected - not a happily-ever-after, but I definitely didn’t expect that,” you tried to explain. “I didn’t expect him to be so... so cruel to her.”

“She let him down, embarrassed him in front of his friends,” Billy offered, almost like he was defending it, “he was disappointed.”

“Disappointed that she no longer needed to act to feel wanted and loved, because she thought she’d finally found that with him?” You answer back, unable to keep yourself from noticing the way the glow of the sunset made his features seem softer. “He showed her what real love could feel like, then he snatched it away from her. It was cruel.”

“You’re right,” he conceded before hesitating a moment. “Maybe I should warn you that he doesn’t get any better. There is no redemption for Dorian Gray.”

“Oh,” At that you felt yourself deflate a little, an odd feeling of disappointment gnawing at your guts. While you’d told him that you weren’t some naive child, hearing that Dorian wasn’t going to get better made you almost want to give up entirely.

Again, he seemed to find some enjoyment in your simple disappointment - something that was starting to get to you.

“I take it you’re used to reading... happier stories?” He asked and you offered a shrug. “Heroes and romance and happily ever afters?”

“Books have always been an escape for me. So, yeah, I like things that I know will end well.” You answered and, for a second, you could have sworn his smile turned a little softer. “Why do you even like this book?” You dared to ask, wanting to understand why anyone could find enjoyment in such misery.

“I think you’d need to finish the book before we could have that conversation,” was all he offered before lifting his glass and, again, you heard that soft sound as he drank. Your heart started to beat a little faster. Billy carefully licked his lips, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting a single drop go to waste. The corner of his mouth curled with amusement again. “Are you sure I’m not your first vampire?”

Your lips parted and, for a moment you couldn’t force the words past the lump in your throat. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he really wanted to know, just like you couldn’t tell if it was his intention to make you feel small. But he did make you feel small, he made you feel like you didn’t understand the world you’d found yourself in; like you didn’t understand vampires or the job you’d agreed to, and like you were too naive to understand his taste in literature.

“No. You’re not,” you answered tersely, trying to hold back your annoyance. “You’re just the first one that I’ve let drink my blood.”

“Good,” he replied without hesitation, seeming to completely ignore your change of demeanour.  

“Good?” What was that supposed to mean?

He shifted, turning so he could face you properly, his foot knocking against yours as he did. 

“Good,” he repeated, the corners of his lips still pulling upwards. “If anyone else had tasted your blood, I doubt they would have been willing to let you go so easily.” He licked his lips and your heart continued to stutter in your chest. His eyes closed for a moment, concentrating on the sound before muttering; “like a hummingbird...”

You didn’t dare move, even though every fibre of your being was screaming at you to pull away when his hand reached for you, fingertips ghosting down your cheek to your neck coming to rest above your rapidly pulsing carotid artery. Frozen, you sat there, his hand on your neck and his dark eyes seeming to stare right into your soul.

Does my blood really taste that good? You wondered.

“It does,” he answered and you realised that you’d spoken the question aloud. 

Something prickled in the back of your mind, a warning you’d been given a long time ago, about how some vampires could trick you and control you, how they could bend you to their will. But, you couldn’t tell if that was what this was, or if you were allowing this because you wanted it, because you wanted to understand. Regardless, you didn’t move. Even as he licked his lips. Even as he leaned closer. 

“What does it taste like?” You heard the question but it took you a few seconds to realise that it had come from your mouth.

“Like sunlight and innocence,” he muttered softly, “sweet, like warm honey. Like life...”

Closer and closer, the cold press of his fingers on your neck sending a shiver down your spine, and a heat in your belly. Your thighs gently pressed together. He made it sound so wonderful, so romantic, like it wasn’t some strange and sordid thing. He made you feel special, made you feel things that you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before.

Before you could even consider the possibilities of what might happen next, he was pulling away from you, and you very quickly returned to your senses, taking an uncomfortable breath.

“What -” you started to ask, needing to know if he’d done something to you, if he’d been trying to control you, but he was already on his feet draining the last of your blood from the glass.

“I’m afraid I won’t have time for one of our little talks tomorrow. I have a meeting just after sunset,” he explained and your eyes followed him as he first moved to the kitchen to put his glass in the sink, then started towards the elevator. He paused once he’d hit the call button. “Keep reading the book. I’m intrigued to know what you’ll think of the ending.”

“Yes, Mr Russo,” the words tumbled clumsily from your mouth, an automatic response to the man who was your employer, wanting to regain some sense of propriety.

“Billy,” he countered. “Goodnight, little hummingbird.”

The doors slid shut and you were alone again.

You didn’t move for at least a minute, your head spinning. A hand rose to your neck touching where he had touched you, your skin still feeling cold and prickled with goosebumps. Looking down, you realised that your thighs were still clenched together.

Gathering the book and the untouched packet of cookies, you quickly made your way back to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

End Note : Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter of this story! I hope this lives up to expectations. I'm already really enjoying writing this one. Also, sorry as always that I'm constantly so slow at responding to comments, I'm trying to get better at that

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List:

@lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @tortilla-chips-and-allioli

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter One

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating :

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : The full first chapter. For anyone that missed the first sneak peak, this is going to be a vampire fic, so it's going to have smut, dark themes, and blood mentions. I've been reading a lot of gothic novels lately so there's a bit of inspo from that in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter One

It was official; you'd lost your fucking mind.

You’d been standing outside the building for five minutes now, the paperwork tucked in your coat pocket feeling heavier by the second. Were you sure that you wanted to do this? Could you really give up a year of your life to serve a vampire?

What other choice did you have?

A lithe and pale figure watched from behind the tinted, UV proof glass while you changed your mind a dozen times over. After a few more minutes, the sun finally disappeared into the New York skyline, plunging the street into shadow.

The door opened.

The figure called your name, and you stepped forward, almost mesmerised by the lilting, lyrical tone of her voice. You shook your head a little, trying to keep your wits about you. 

You took in the sight of her as she held open the door; taller than you with a willowy figure, long white hair down to her hips, and eyes of pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You’d seen enough vampires to tell one by sight.

Your small suitcase was clutched in your hand, the few possessions that meant anything to you had been hastily packed before you’d headed to New York, and now felt like all you had left in the world. She glanced at the suitcase with disdain, but said nothing.

“Do you have the paperwork?” She asked, the soft but icy sound of her voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded and she held out her hand expectantly, waiting while you fished the folded mess of documents from your coat. She gave the contract a cursory glance, making sure you’d signed every dotted line, before; “good. And are you sure you understand everything that this position entails and what will be required of you?”

You nodded again.

“Speak up,” she prompted. “This is your last chance to ask questions.”

Despite the impatience on her face, you took a moment. Only minutes ago you’d had at least half a dozen questions about the job and the mysterious vampire who had hired you.

“What happened to the last person who took this job?” Her eyebrow rose, obviously not expecting that question. “The contract is for a year, but I’ve seen this job advertised three times in the last ten months.”

“There are a lot of people who mistakenly believe that they can do what is required of them. Many have come to work for Mr Russo, and many have disappointed him,” she shrugged.

“What happened to them?”

“The same thing that will happen to you if you breach your contract; immediate dismissal with no severance,” she explained, slowly starting to step towards the elevator. “During your time here, everything will be provided for you and you will only be paid once your term of service is completed.”

“A million dollars,” even though that was the amount in black and white on the contract, it still didn’t seem real to you.

“Yes,” she pressed the call button, putting an obvious timer on this conversation. “Like I said, this is your last chance to ask questions. Once I take you upstairs, your contract will officially begin, and you will forfeit the agreed upon rights.” 

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat and nodded, knowing you had no choice. You needed the money and a year wasn’t that long if you really thought about it. 

The elevator doors slid open and you took one last deep breath before stepping inside.

“What floor are we going to?” You asked, not wanting to stand in silence.

“The penthouse,” she answered, allowing another moment of quiet before adding; “you’ll find that Mr Russo has been more than generous with your living quarters, far more generous than most.”

“Do a lot of vampires do this? Hire people to feed from, I mean?” 

“For those that can afford it, or those with particular... tastes, it’s quite common, yes,” she replied offhandedly, not even bothering to look at you, knowing that it didn’t matter anymore; it was too late for you to change your mind.

“And which is Mr Russo?” You dared to ask, which was enough to earn a glance from her.

“Both,” she answered coldly, “as you no doubt saw in the advertisement, Mr Russo is very particular, and you’d do well to remember that. He is a man who likes everything in its place.”

Your lips parted, more comments and questions about your mysterious employer on your tongue, but they were cut off by the opening of the elevator doors. She led you out into the penthouse; a large open-plan living and kitchen area, with an open fireplace and wrap-around sofa, decorated in dark colours and dark-stained wood.

“Leave your suitcase there,” she instructed. “You won’t need it.”

You did as you were told, speechless as you took in the huge space in front of you. The windows drew your attention; tinted and obviously UV proof, but spanning from floor to ceiling, giving an amazing view of Central Park.

“This is the main area of the penthouse,” she started, as if she was a tour guide, reeling off facts that she no longer found interesting. “You may use this area as you see fit during daylight hours, but between 9pm and 6am it is off-limits. You will clean up after yourself.”

You nodded, following her as she slowly started towards the kitchen, leaving your suitcase at the elevator.

“All food will be provided, and should not be left in this kitchen area. You have your own private kitchen in your quarters. As per your contract, you will keep to the list of acceptable foods, and will receive grocery deliveries once a week on Fridays.” She stopped for a moment, letting you get a look at the main kitchen.

While there didn’t seem to be much in the way of food in the main kitchen, there was a large wine rack, filled with bottles. But it was the small glass-fronted refrigerator that caught your attention. That was where he would keep your blood. Suddenly it all started to feel very real to you.

If your guide cared, she didn’t bother to show it. She started to move again, and you followed after.

“Behind that door,” she pointed, “are Mr Russo’s rooms. You are forbidden from entering. Any breach of that rule will result in your immediate dismissal.”

You nodded, eyes lingering on the door, wondering if he was behind it right now, if he was listening in to everything being said. The thought caused your heart to beat a little faster and, that, you were certain she did notice. She led you away, towards the other end of the apartment.

“Through that door is Mr Russo’s library, you may use it as you see fit during daylight hours,” she didn’t linger or allow you to look inside, so you decided that was the first place you would explore once you were alone.

“And this,” she pushed a door open, “is your private suite.”

The door led to a small corridor with three doors. You continued to follow her. 

“Your kitchen,” she pushed open the first door and let you glance inside before moving to the door on the opposite side of the hallway, “your bathroom.” Again, she only gave you a second before moving to the door at the end of the hallway. “And this is your bedroom. For your privacy, the door can be locked. Though once you’ve slept here, no vampire will be able to enter without permission.” 

You were almost speechless as you stepped into the room, immediately noticing the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the corner of the room, giving you amazing views of Central Park and the city. The room contained a large bed, a sofa and TV, as well as a small gym area in the corner. There was a wardrobe, the doors of which had been strategically left open so you could see that it had already been filled with clothes for you. Beyond that, there was a desk and several mirrors, and everything was decorated with the same dark palette as the rest of the penthouse. 

“As per your contract, you are expected to remain clean and healthy at all times,” she continued while you slowly stepped around the room, cautiously running your fingers over the desk and opening drawers. “Mr Russo requires that you shower at least once every day and that you wear only the clothes provided. If the clothes provided are not to your tastes, reasonable adjustments to the wardrobe can be made.”

You opened a drawer and felt heat rise in your cheeks when you realised that it was filled with silk and lace lingerie sets. Closing the drawer, you decided to look elsewhere, moving towards the nightstand. There was a silk sleep mask beside the lamp, with your initials sewn into the fabric.

“You will not leave the penthouse without permission. Any attempt to do so will result in your immediate dismissal,” again, on paper, it had sounded easy but now you weren’t so sure. “Part of remaining clean for Mr Russo means that you will forgo sex for the duration of your contract, and you will not allow anyone to touch you in a sexual way. However, Mr Russo understands that this can be... difficult for someone your age, so he has provided everything you need to keep yourself... satisfied.”

Your confused glance was met by a raised eyebrow and the slightest dip of her head, indicating the drawer which, stupidly, you opened without hesitation.

“Oh...” you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but a drawer full of sex toys certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks got hotter and your heart raced in your chest.

“I would suggest getting that under control, your embarrassment is quite distracting to vampires,” she stated before leaving the room. You quickly pushed the drawer of toys closed and followed after her. 

She led you into the kitchen, a clean and sterile looking room with everything you’d ever need to cook for yourself. Waving at the only chair at the small table, she instructed you to sit, take your coat off and roll up your sleeve.

“For the first week, I will assist you in drawing blood and showing you how to store it, after that it will become your responsibility. You will do this at least once a day, and it is your job to ensure that Mr Russo never goes without,” she explained, opening a drawer and removing what she needed.

You felt queasy the moment the needle punctured the skin, and you were sure she scoffed when you looked away from the sight of blood. Clearly, she didn’t think you were going to last in your new job.

“While your contract is in effect, Mr Russo is the only vampire who may drink your blood,” she continued to list rules and stipulations. 

“And he’ll only drink it like this? He won’t -” you hesitated, trying to decide if the question could be seen as offensive to a vampire.

“It is, legally speaking, entirely up to you whether or not you would allow Mr Russo to feed from you directly,” which, of course was something you knew - since vampires revealed themselves to the world, lots of safe-measures had been put in place to protect humans from being involuntarily fed upon. “However, Mr Russo prefers to feed this way, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

After almost ten minutes she pulled the needle from your arm and began to explain how to seal the blood before handing you a bottle of supplements and a glass of water. 

“Take one of those every day after bleeding, they will help your body replace what you’ve given.” She watched as you took one of the supplements without questions and then led you back out into the main area of the apartment, showing you how the blood was to be stored in the fridge, with the day's date clearly marked on the jar.

“Now, you should go shower and change into the clothes provided. I can either dispose of what you’re wearing or it can be placed in storage with your other things until your contract is complete.”

“Wait - storage?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

“As per your contract, everything is provided -”

“I get that, but... you’re saying I can’t keep my things? What about my phone?” Sure, you’d read the contract, but you’d never realised that that was what it meant.

“Mr Russo is a very private man, your phone or other electronic devices would be a security risk,” she answered sharply. “If you wish to terminate your contract -”

“No - no, it’s fine. As long as they’re kept safe.” As much as you hated it, you knew the alternative was worse. No, you could live without your phone and laptop for a year if it meant earning a million dollars, if it meant finally being free.

Without hesitation, you removed your phone from your pocket and handed it to her. She seemed almost amused that it was already turned off, and quickly slid it into her own pocket.

She nodded and started to walk away. “Leave anything you want put into storage by the elevator.”

It was then that you realised that she was about to leave you all alone and you’d have no more chances to ask her questions.

“When will I meet Mr Russo?” You asked as she pressed the call button.

“That depends on Mr Russo,” she shrugged, “you may never meet him if he doesn’t wish it. He’ll decide when he returns to New York tomorrow. For now, I’d suggest you spend your time getting comfortable. A year is a long time for warmbloods...”

The elevator doors slid open and she carried your suitcase inside.

“I’ll be back after sunset tomorrow to draw more blood.”

It wasn’t until she was gone that you realised you’d never even gotten her name.

Alone, you remained in the kitchen for a few minutes, half expecting her to come back to explain more rules but, when she didn’t, you decided to explore.

It felt strange and you didn’t dare touch anything, practically creeping around the apartment, even though you were fairly certain that you were all alone now. You got yourself familiar with the main living area, taking a moment to enjoy the view from the windows before heading for the door that led to Mr Russo’s library.

Whatever thoughts you had about it, you weren’t expecting what you found behind that door. The book cases covered two of the walls and, in the corner of the room sat a grand piano. There was a worn looking leather sofa and, towards the back of the room, you realised that there was a set of shelves filled with vinyl records. Suddenly, being stuck in this apartment for a whole year didn’t seem like enough time. 

There was a strange mix of old and new about the room, things that made you wonder about the sort of person your new employer was. How old was he? How long had he been a vampire? 

You decided that you were definitely going to spend a lot of time in the library but, for tonight, you settled on taking a battered looking copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from a shelf, hoping that no one would mind if you took it back to your room.

While it wasn’t getting late, it had been a long day and you were still feeling a little shaky, so you decided to do as instructed and have a shower before changing into one of the silken pairs of pyjamas that had been provided. Once you’d neatly folded and piled your old clothes by the elevator, you returned to your bedroom.

Paranoia had you checking around the room, beneath the bed and in the wardrobe, before you finally felt safe enough to lock yourself in. While it had been your plan to read until you fell asleep, you were too distracted by thoughts of home; had anyone noticed that you were gone yet? Were they looking for you? Had they been trying to call?

The only thing that you knew for certain was that no one would find you here. And, once you’d completed your year and had your million dollars, no one would find you ever again.

The next morning you realised why you’d been provided a sleep mask; as stunning as the floor to ceiling windows were, the moment the sun rose your room was filled with light. Grumbling, your hand reached for your phone on the night stand before you remembered exactly where you were and that you no longer had your phone.

There was a clock in the kitchen, on the wall above the small table where you sat and had breakfast, telling you that it was far too early to be awake. 

After breakfast you showered and decided to spend the day getting used to your surroundings, starting with the bedroom. 

The contents of the wardrobe left you speechless. Even the leggings and jeans were expensive brands, and some of the ball gowns... honestly, you didn’t even know why they were in there, but you’d spent enough time attending balls and gala’s back home to know that each was easily worth tens of thousands of dollars. Some of the garments felt a little more questionable; corsets and dresses that would probably reveal far more than you were comfortable with.

And the shoes.

You’d never seen so many pairs of shoes. Everything ranging from cute sneakers, to thigh-high boots with heels so big you’d break your neck if you fell over in them. Every kind of shoe for every sort of occasion, and they were all stunning.

Then, in the drawers, you had your more everyday items; underwear, tee-shirts, leggings. And, again, it seemed like no expense had been spared. Admittedly when you finally changed out of the pyjamas, it felt a little bit weird to put on underwear that you hadn’t bought for yourself, and weirder still to think about how soft the lace felt on your skin.

You picked out a pair of jeggings, an oversized sweater and a pair of Uggs to wear before continuing to search through your room. There was everything you could think that you might want or need, with the exception of a laptop or phone. (And you were very mindful about ignoring the drawer of sex toys, not even wanting to think about it.)

It took you almost the whole day to get through it all and find where everything was. Once you were done, you decided to cook dinner; a simple pasta in sauce with some bread. You hadn’t even stepped out of your suite and into the main apartment, you’d almost managed to forget that anything existed outside of your bubble until the sudden knock on the suite's door. 

You opened the door to find her standing there, remembering she had promised to return at sunset.

“Have you found everything to your liking so far?” She asked as she stepped past you and made her way into the kitchen. 

“Everything is fine,” you told her, following after. “I did have a few... questions about some things?”

She indicated that you take a seat and moved to the cupboard that contains the equipment for drawing blood. You rolled up your sleeve without being asked.

“Yes?” She prompted.

“In the wardrobe, there are ball gowns?” More statement than question and she looked at you with a raised eyebrow until you clarified; “why?”

“Mr Russo occasionally likes to host parties or attend events in the city,” she answered, piercing your skin with the needle. “If he decides he enjoys your company, he may ask you to attend with him.”

“Oh,” you decided not to ask the ridiculous follow up and instead change direction completely. “And, while I’m here I’m not allowed a phone or the internet?”

“As I told you yesterday, Mr Russo is a very private man. If you wish to contact loved ones, I can -”

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut her off. “What if there’s... I don’t know, an emergency? Or something I need?”

For a second she paused, the slightest look of realisation on her face, as if she’d just remembered something. 

“By the elevator, there’s an intercom. You can use it to contact me or, if I’m not available, you can contact the doorman.”

Which, of course, brought you to the next awkward question.

“... you never told me your name.”

“Lissa,” she quickly responded, off-handedly, almost dismissively, like she thought you’d never need it. 

Once she was finished drawing blood, you followed her out into the main area of the penthouse and over to the fridge where, to your surprise, yesterday’s blood was gone.

“Is -” you started to ask, glancing towards that foreboding door that was off-limits to you, “- is Mr Russo here?”

“He’s back in the city, yes.” 

You took that to mean that he wasn’t in, so you decided not to ask any more questions - what had she told you yesterday? That he’d decide whether he wanted to meet you when he got back. Well, he was back now and, obviously, he didn’t.

Lissa asked if you needed anything desperately and you told her you didn’t; she didn’t exactly make it seem like she was interested, more that she felt obligated.

The next few days passed in much the same way; you’d spend your afternoons exploring the penthouse, trying to get some idea of what Mr Russo was like. Then Lissa would help you draw blood and, by the end of the first week, you no longer needed her assistance. Every morning you checked the fridge and found it empty. He was there, in the penthouse. But, as the days passed, you started to think you’d never cross paths and maybe that was by design.

Maybe that was for the best, maybe it would be easier to get through the year without meeting him. You could just pretend that the penthouse was yours.

But it seemed like a lonely way to live, especially once Lissa no longer had a reason to visit. You weren’t used to space or privacy, not like this. You took to muttering to yourself, moving from room to room of the penthouse just to get a little bit of variety in your life.

The first day you were completely left alone, you decided to start the morning with a run on the treadmill. It was raining outside but you tried to picture what it would be like to run through the winding paths of Central Park, all the way to the fountain. Then, after showering, you rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen to find all the ingredients you needed to make chocolate muffins.

By the time the sun started to set, you were quietly impressed with how well you’d managed to distract yourself. But it was only one day, and you had over three-hundred and fifty more to fill. You made yourself some dinner, drew some blood and took it out to the fridge for Mr Russo, whenever he decided to get it.

Then, you ended up on the sofa.

Initially you’d only wanted to sit down for a few minutes, feeling tired and a little bit unsteady after putting today’s blood in the fridge. You had a feeling that you might have drawn a little too much, and you found your eyes drifting shut. 

The alarm on your watch woke you, set to remind you every night when it was approaching 9pm so you could retire to your suite, as per the rules. You felt groggy as your eyes opened, taking a second to sharpen.

And there he was, sitting on the opposite side of the wrap-around sofa, a glass in his hand, dark eyes set on you.

You sat up quickly - so quickly that it made you feel dizzy.

Your cheeks warmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or nausea.

If he cared about your display of discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, for a moment you were sure you saw a flicker of a smirk cross his lips. For a second you found yourself staring, taking in the sight of him; dark suit, dark hair, and even darker eyes. He was stunning, even by vampire standards.

“I’m sorry, I -” you started, flustered. You didn’t even know what you were apologising for. It wasn’t like you’d broken any of his rules.

“So you’re the new one,” his voice didn’t sound like you thought it would. For the look of him, you’d imagined a smooth but commanding tone, instead there was something rough to it.

“Yes, sir,” you answered, quickly introducing yourself to him rather than addressing what exactly he meant by the new one.

“Drink that,” he instructed and you noticed the glass of orange juice on the table. “It’ll help with the blood loss.”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction, embarrassed that he’d figured out why you were sleeping on the sofa. (Just how long had he been sitting watching you sleep, anyway?)

You gave a muttered thank you before reaching for the glass and slowly starting to drink. You’d forgotten to take your supplement too and that probably wasn’t helping.

“So, what are you running from?”

“I'm sorry?” You asked, not understanding the question. 

“You've agreed to spend a year living in the home of a man you've never met - a vampire, no less - so, what are you running from?” He looked at you as if he could look through you, as if he expect a lie and he’d be able to catch you in it

“I’m not running,” you answered, forcing yourself to sit a little straighter, despite the light-headedness. “I just didn’t want to be at home anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Does it matter?” You answered flippantly before realising that that wasn’t the best way to talk to your new employer. “I mean - I already signed all of your contracts, so does it make a difference?”

“It does if I end up with your parents at the door screaming about how I spirited away their daughter and have her under my thrall so I can drain her blood.”

“Has - has that happened before?” There was something about his face, his eyes, it made it impossible to tell if he was joking or being serious. “Things like this are legal, so it’s not like they could complain...”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It was only then that you realised what was in his glass, the dark viscous liquid he was gently swirling. He was sitting and having this conversation with you while cradling a glass of your blood.

“I’m not avoiding it,” you decided to tell him, “I just don’t want to answer it. I appreciate how this could look to some people, but I can promise you my family won’t be an issue. They don’t even know that I’m here and they have no way of finding me.”

“So, not running, escaping,” he stated like he didn’t want a response and already knew he was going to get one. And, finally, he lifted his glass and took a slow drink..

You didn’t want to watch him drink, but you found that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, watching the gentle bob of his throat and the way he licked his lips after draining half the glass. When he caught you looking, you dropped your attention to your own glass and took a slow drink.

“I’m not your first am I?” 

Sputtering, you almost choked on your drink and, for some reason, your mind immediately went to the drawer of toys in your bedroom. Your cheeks continued to warm as the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“My first what?”

“Vampire.”

“No. I mean, I’ve never -” you took a second, trying to regain your composure. “I’ve met other vampires, I’ve just never let them...”

He lifted the glass and cocked an eyebrow before taking a drink. This time when he drank, you let him see you watching, feeling your heart stutter in your chest. Again, his tongue wiped away any trace of your blood from his lips and he looked oddly satisfied.

“Do you like it here? Are you settling in?” He asked, and you were starting to realise he was trying to get a measure of you. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

“Yes, you have a lovely home,” you answered before taking an awkward drink. You weren’t sure what else to say about it because, outside of the library, there wasn’t much to the penthouse. In fact, once you started thinking about it, you couldn’t help but realise that it seemed a little cold and lonely. But, perhaps it was different in his rooms, perhaps that was where he’d made his penthouse into a home.

“You like the library,” a statement more than a question.

“Yes, I - how did you know?” Had he been spying on you? Watching you?

“My copy of Dorian Gray,” he stated softly, and you felt your breath catch, “it doesn’t seem to be where I left it.”

“It’s in my room,” you answered, worried that you might have already done something wrong - you couldn’t afford to lose this job, not after only a week. “No one told me that I couldn’t take it out of the library, I just wanted something to read in bed and I -”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “You can take as many books from the library as you want, as long as they’re returned undamaged.”

It seemed to mean a lot to him and, perhaps, you should have asked why but, instead, you found yourself feeling indignant.

“I’d never damage a book,” you told him, “especially one that didn’t belong to me.”

Again, he seemed more amused than fazed by your response. “So, you like to read?”

You nodded.

“Why?” His eyes stayed on you, staring through you, right to your soul. At least, that was how it felt. Your lips parted, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Why did anyone like to read? “Escapism? Perhaps to imagine a better life? Or is it love and fantasies of fictional men who will treat you better than anyone in the real world that you enjoy?”

“Is that why you have all those books? To fantasise about fictional men?” you found yourself responding, trying desperately to ignore the heat burning through your cheeks.

He let out a laugh, a deep and dark sound that sent a shiver up your spine. The smirk on his lips grew and, for a moment, he just watched you before shrugging.

“Sometimes men, sometimes women,” he admitted with ease, lifting his glass and draining it, leaving nothing but a pinkish stain on the inside of the glass. “I like you,” he decided and you weren’t sure if he meant you or your blood. “This is going to be fun.”

With that, he got to his feet and all you could do was watch, getting some idea of his height and how he held himself once he was standing. He moved with the confidence of a predator who knew his own strength even if others couldn’t see it, and you knew immediately that you shouldn’t underestimate him.

“You should return to your rooms,” he told you, turning and heading for the kitchen to get rid of his empty glass. “I wouldn’t want Lissa finding out that you’ve already broken your contract.”

For a second you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you saw the time. Twenty past nine. He’d kept you talking for almost half an hour. (Could he really fire you for that when he was the reason?)

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, I -” you got to your feet so quickly that you almost fell back down

“I’m joking,” it hadn’t sounded like a joke. He glanced back towards you, offering something of a smile. “You should go back to your rooms and rest, though. And tomorrow, take more care when you’re drawing blood. I wouldn’t want you fainting.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before moving towards the elevator and slipping inside once the doors opened.

For a few seconds, you stood, at a loss over what had just happened, before quickly making your way back to your own rooms.

End Notes : Sooo... there it is. I honestly hate starting new fics because I always feel like they start a little slow. I'm not sure what the posting schedule will look like for this one, I'm hoping once a week (on Friday evenings) but I'll post an update or something if that changes.

Thanks for checking this out, I know it's a bit of a departure from Catch Me if You Can. Have a wonderful weekend.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter One

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : The full first chapter. For anyone that missed the first sneak peak, this is going to be a vampire fic, so it's going to have smut, dark themes, and blood mentions. I've been reading a lot of gothic novels lately so there's a bit of inspo from that in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter One

It was official; you'd lost your fucking mind.

You’d been standing outside the building for five minutes now, the paperwork tucked in your coat pocket feeling heavier by the second. Were you sure that you wanted to do this? Could you really give up a year of your life to serve a vampire?

What other choice did you have?

A lithe and pale figure watched from behind the tinted, UV proof glass while you changed your mind a dozen times over. After a few more minutes, the sun finally disappeared into the New York skyline, plunging the street into shadow.

The door opened.

The figure called your name, and you stepped forward, almost mesmerised by the lilting, lyrical tone of her voice. You shook your head a little, trying to keep your wits about you. 

You took in the sight of her as she held open the door; taller than you with a willowy figure, long white hair down to her hips, and eyes of pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You’d seen enough vampires to tell one by sight.

Your small suitcase was clutched in your hand, the few possessions that meant anything to you had been hastily packed before you’d headed to New York, and now felt like all you had left in the world. She glanced at the suitcase with disdain, but said nothing.

“Do you have the paperwork?” She asked, the soft but icy sound of her voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded and she held out her hand expectantly, waiting while you fished the folded mess of documents from your coat. She gave the contract a cursory glance, making sure you’d signed every dotted line, before; “good. And are you sure you understand everything that this position entails and what will be required of you?”

You nodded again.

“Speak up,” she prompted. “This is your last chance to ask questions.”

Despite the impatience on her face, you took a moment. Only minutes ago you’d had at least half a dozen questions about the job and the mysterious vampire who had hired you.

“What happened to the last person who took this job?” Her eyebrow rose, obviously not expecting that question. “The contract is for a year, but I’ve seen this job advertised three times in the last ten months.”

“There are a lot of people who mistakenly believe that they can do what is required of them. Many have come to work for Mr Russo, and many have disappointed him,” she shrugged.

“What happened to them?”

“The same thing that will happen to you if you breach your contract; immediate dismissal with no severance,” she explained, slowly starting to step towards the elevator. “During your time here, everything will be provided for you and you will only be paid once your term of service is completed.”

“A million dollars,” even though that was the amount in black and white on the contract, it still didn’t seem real to you.

“Yes,” she pressed the call button, putting an obvious timer on this conversation. “Like I said, this is your last chance to ask questions. Once I take you upstairs, your contract will officially begin, and you will forfeit the agreed upon rights.” 

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat and nodded, knowing you had no choice. You needed the money and a year wasn’t that long if you really thought about it. 

The elevator doors slid open and you took one last deep breath before stepping inside.

“What floor are we going to?” You asked, not wanting to stand in silence.

“The penthouse,” she answered, allowing another moment of quiet before adding; “you’ll find that Mr Russo has been more than generous with your living quarters, far more generous than most.”

“Do a lot of vampires do this? Hire people to feed from, I mean?” 

“For those that can afford it, or those with particular... tastes, it’s quite common, yes,” she replied offhandedly, not even bothering to look at you, knowing that it didn’t matter anymore; it was too late for you to change your mind.

“And which is Mr Russo?” You dared to ask, which was enough to earn a glance from her.

“Both,” she answered coldly, “as you no doubt saw in the advertisement, Mr Russo is very particular, and you’d do well to remember that. He is a man who likes everything in its place.”

Your lips parted, more comments and questions about your mysterious employer on your tongue, but they were cut off by the opening of the elevator doors. She led you out into the penthouse; a large open-plan living and kitchen area, with an open fireplace and wrap-around sofa, decorated in dark colours and dark-stained wood.

“Leave your suitcase there,” she instructed. “You won’t need it.”

You did as you were told, speechless as you took in the huge space in front of you. The windows drew your attention; tinted and obviously UV proof, but spanning from floor to ceiling, giving an amazing view of Central Park.

“This is the main area of the penthouse,” she started, as if she was a tour guide, reeling off facts that she no longer found interesting. “You may use this area as you see fit during daylight hours, but between 9pm and 6am it is off-limits. You will clean up after yourself.”

You nodded, following her as she slowly started towards the kitchen, leaving your suitcase at the elevator.

“All food will be provided, and should not be left in this kitchen area. You have your own private kitchen in your quarters. As per your contract, you will keep to the list of acceptable foods, and will receive grocery deliveries once a week on Fridays.” She stopped for a moment, letting you get a look at the main kitchen.

While there didn’t seem to be much in the way of food in the main kitchen, there was a large wine rack, filled with bottles. But it was the small glass-fronted refrigerator that caught your attention. That was where he would keep your blood. Suddenly it all started to feel very real to you.

If your guide cared, she didn’t bother to show it. She started to move again, and you followed after.

“Behind that door,” she pointed, “are Mr Russo’s rooms. You are forbidden from entering. Any breach of that rule will result in your immediate dismissal.”

You nodded, eyes lingering on the door, wondering if he was behind it right now, if he was listening in to everything being said. The thought caused your heart to beat a little faster and, that, you were certain she did notice. She led you away, towards the other end of the apartment.

“Through that door is Mr Russo’s library, you may use it as you see fit during daylight hours,” she didn’t linger or allow you to look inside, so you decided that was the first place you would explore once you were alone.

“And this,” she pushed a door open, “is your private suite.”

The door led to a small corridor with three doors. You continued to follow her. 

“Your kitchen,” she pushed open the first door and let you glance inside before moving to the door on the opposite side of the hallway, “your bathroom.” Again, she only gave you a second before moving to the door at the end of the hallway. “And this is your bedroom. For your privacy, the door can be locked. Though once you’ve slept here, no vampire will be able to enter without permission.” 

You were almost speechless as you stepped into the room, immediately noticing the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the corner of the room, giving you amazing views of Central Park and the city. The room contained a large bed, a sofa and TV, as well as a small gym area in the corner. There was a wardrobe, the doors of which had been strategically left open so you could see that it had already been filled with clothes for you. Beyond that, there was a desk and several mirrors, and everything was decorated with the same dark palette as the rest of the penthouse. 

“As per your contract, you are expected to remain clean and healthy at all times,” she continued while you slowly stepped around the room, cautiously running your fingers over the desk and opening drawers. “Mr Russo requires that you shower at least once every day and that you wear only the clothes provided. If the clothes provided are not to your tastes, reasonable adjustments to the wardrobe can be made.”

You opened a drawer and felt heat rise in your cheeks when you realised that it was filled with silk and lace lingerie sets. Closing the drawer, you decided to look elsewhere, moving towards the nightstand. There was a silk sleep mask beside the lamp, with your initials sewn into the fabric.

“You will not leave the penthouse without permission. Any attempt to do so will result in your immediate dismissal,” again, on paper, it had sounded easy but now you weren’t so sure. “Part of remaining clean for Mr Russo means that you will forgo sex for the duration of your contract, and you will not allow anyone to touch you in a sexual way. However, Mr Russo understands that this can be... difficult for someone your age, so he has provided everything you need to keep yourself... satisfied.”

Your confused glance was met by a raised eyebrow and the slightest dip of her head, indicating the drawer which, stupidly, you opened without hesitation.

“Oh...” you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but a drawer full of sex toys certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks got hotter and your heart raced in your chest.

“I would suggest getting that under control, your embarrassment is quite distracting to vampires,” she stated before leaving the room. You quickly pushed the drawer of toys closed and followed after her. 

She led you into the kitchen, a clean and sterile looking room with everything you’d ever need to cook for yourself. Waving at the only chair at the small table, she instructed you to sit, take your coat off and roll up your sleeve.

“For the first week, I will assist you in drawing blood and showing you how to store it, after that it will become your responsibility. You will do this at least once a day, and it is your job to ensure that Mr Russo never goes without,” she explained, opening a drawer and removing what she needed.

You felt queasy the moment the needle punctured the skin, and you were sure she scoffed when you looked away from the sight of blood. Clearly, she didn’t think you were going to last in your new job.

“While your contract is in effect, Mr Russo is the only vampire who may drink your blood,” she continued to list rules and stipulations. 

“And he’ll only drink it like this? He won’t -” you hesitated, trying to decide if the question could be seen as offensive to a vampire.

“It is, legally speaking, entirely up to you whether or not you would allow Mr Russo to feed from you directly,” which, of course was something you knew - since vampires revealed themselves to the world, lots of safe-measures had been put in place to protect humans from being involuntarily fed upon. “However, Mr Russo prefers to feed this way, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

After almost ten minutes she pulled the needle from your arm and began to explain how to seal the blood before handing you a bottle of supplements and a glass of water. 

“Take one of those every day after bleeding, they will help your body replace what you’ve given.” She watched as you took one of the supplements without questions and then led you back out into the main area of the apartment, showing you how the blood was to be stored in the fridge, with the day's date clearly marked on the jar.

“Now, you should go shower and change into the clothes provided. I can either dispose of what you’re wearing or it can be placed in storage with your other things until your contract is complete.”

“Wait - storage?” You asked, your heart skipping a beat.

“As per your contract, everything is provided -”

“I get that, but... you’re saying I can’t keep my things? What about my phone?” Sure, you’d read the contract, but you’d never realised that that was what it meant.

“Mr Russo is a very private man, your phone or other electronic devices would be a security risk,” she answered sharply. “If you wish to terminate your contract -”

“No - no, it’s fine. As long as they’re kept safe.” As much as you hated it, you knew the alternative was worse. No, you could live without your phone and laptop for a year if it meant earning a million dollars, if it meant finally being free.

Without hesitation, you removed your phone from your pocket and handed it to her. She seemed almost amused that it was already turned off, and quickly slid it into her own pocket.

She nodded and started to walk away. “Leave anything you want put into storage by the elevator.”

It was then that you realised that she was about to leave you all alone and you’d have no more chances to ask her questions.

“When will I meet Mr Russo?” You asked as she pressed the call button.

“That depends on Mr Russo,” she shrugged, “you may never meet him if he doesn’t wish it. He’ll decide when he returns to New York tomorrow. For now, I’d suggest you spend your time getting comfortable. A year is a long time for warmbloods...”

The elevator doors slid open and she carried your suitcase inside.

“I’ll be back after sunset tomorrow to draw more blood.”

It wasn’t until she was gone that you realised you’d never even gotten her name.

Alone, you remained in the kitchen for a few minutes, half expecting her to come back to explain more rules but, when she didn’t, you decided to explore.

It felt strange and you didn’t dare touch anything, practically creeping around the apartment, even though you were fairly certain that you were all alone now. You got yourself familiar with the main living area, taking a moment to enjoy the view from the windows before heading for the door that led to Mr Russo’s library.

Whatever thoughts you had about it, you weren’t expecting what you found behind that door. The book cases covered two of the walls and, in the corner of the room sat a grand piano. There was a worn looking leather sofa and, towards the back of the room, you realised that there was a set of shelves filled with vinyl records. Suddenly, being stuck in this apartment for a whole year didn’t seem like enough time. 

There was a strange mix of old and new about the room, things that made you wonder about the sort of person your new employer was. How old was he? How long had he been a vampire? 

You decided that you were definitely going to spend a lot of time in the library but, for tonight, you settled on taking a battered looking copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from a shelf, hoping that no one would mind if you took it back to your room.

While it wasn’t getting late, it had been a long day and you were still feeling a little shaky, so you decided to do as instructed and have a shower before changing into one of the silken pairs of pyjamas that had been provided. Once you’d neatly folded and piled your old clothes by the elevator, you returned to your bedroom.

Paranoia had you checking around the room, beneath the bed and in the wardrobe, before you finally felt safe enough to lock yourself in. While it had been your plan to read until you fell asleep, you were too distracted by thoughts of home; had anyone noticed that you were gone yet? Were they looking for you? Had they been trying to call?

The only thing that you knew for certain was that no one would find you here. And, once you’d completed your year and had your million dollars, no one would find you ever again.

The next morning you realised why you’d been provided a sleep mask; as stunning as the floor to ceiling windows were, the moment the sun rose your room was filled with light. Grumbling, your hand reached for your phone on the night stand before you remembered exactly where you were and that you no longer had your phone.

There was a clock in the kitchen, on the wall above the small table where you sat and had breakfast, telling you that it was far too early to be awake. 

After breakfast you showered and decided to spend the day getting used to your surroundings, starting with the bedroom. 

The contents of the wardrobe left you speechless. Even the leggings and jeans were expensive brands, and some of the ball gowns... honestly, you didn’t even know why they were in there, but you’d spent enough time attending balls and gala’s back home to know that each was easily worth tens of thousands of dollars. Some of the garments felt a little more questionable; corsets and dresses that would probably reveal far more than you were comfortable with.

And the shoes.

You’d never seen so many pairs of shoes. Everything ranging from cute sneakers, to thigh-high boots with heels so big you’d break your neck if you fell over in them. Every kind of shoe for every sort of occasion, and they were all stunning.

Then, in the drawers, you had your more everyday items; underwear, tee-shirts, leggings. And, again, it seemed like no expense had been spared. Admittedly when you finally changed out of the pyjamas, it felt a little bit weird to put on underwear that you hadn’t bought for yourself, and weirder still to think about how soft the lace felt on your skin.

You picked out a pair of jeggings, an oversized sweater and a pair of Uggs to wear before continuing to search through your room. There was everything you could think that you might want or need, with the exception of a laptop or phone. (And you were very mindful about ignoring the drawer of sex toys, not even wanting to think about it.)

It took you almost the whole day to get through it all and find where everything was. Once you were done, you decided to cook dinner; a simple pasta in sauce with some bread. You hadn’t even stepped out of your suite and into the main apartment, you’d almost managed to forget that anything existed outside of your bubble until the sudden knock on the suite's door. 

You opened the door to find her standing there, remembering she had promised to return at sunset.

“Have you found everything to your liking so far?” She asked as she stepped past you and made her way into the kitchen. 

“Everything is fine,” you told her, following after. “I did have a few... questions about some things?”

She indicated that you take a seat and moved to the cupboard that contains the equipment for drawing blood. You rolled up your sleeve without being asked.

“Yes?” She prompted.

“In the wardrobe, there are ball gowns?” More statement than question and she looked at you with a raised eyebrow until you clarified; “why?”

“Mr Russo occasionally likes to host parties or attend events in the city,” she answered, piercing your skin with the needle. “If he decides he enjoys your company, he may ask you to attend with him.”

“Oh,” you decided not to ask the ridiculous follow up and instead change direction completely. “And, while I’m here I’m not allowed a phone or the internet?”

“As I told you yesterday, Mr Russo is a very private man. If you wish to contact loved ones, I can -”

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut her off. “What if there’s... I don’t know, an emergency? Or something I need?”

For a second she paused, the slightest look of realisation on her face, as if she’d just remembered something. 

“By the elevator, there’s an intercom. You can use it to contact me or, if I’m not available, you can contact the doorman.”

Which, of course, brought you to the next awkward question.

“... you never told me your name.”

“Lissa,” she quickly responded, off-handedly, almost dismissively, like she thought you’d never need it. 

Once she was finished drawing blood, you followed her out into the main area of the penthouse and over to the fridge where, to your surprise, yesterday’s blood was gone.

“Is -” you started to ask, glancing towards that foreboding door that was off-limits to you, “- is Mr Russo here?”

“He’s back in the city, yes.” 

You took that to mean that he wasn’t in, so you decided not to ask any more questions - what had she told you yesterday? That he’d decide whether he wanted to meet you when he got back. Well, he was back now and, obviously, he didn���t.

Lissa asked if you needed anything desperately and you told her you didn’t; she didn’t exactly make it seem like she was interested, more that she felt obligated.

The next few days passed in much the same way; you’d spend your afternoons exploring the penthouse, trying to get some idea of what Mr Russo was like. Then Lissa would help you draw blood and, by the end of the first week, you no longer needed her assistance. Every morning you checked the fridge and found it empty. He was there, in the penthouse. But, as the days passed, you started to think you’d never cross paths and maybe that was by design.

Maybe that was for the best, maybe it would be easier to get through the year without meeting him. You could just pretend that the penthouse was yours.

But it seemed like a lonely way to live, especially once Lissa no longer had a reason to visit. You weren’t used to space or privacy, not like this. You took to muttering to yourself, moving from room to room of the penthouse just to get a little bit of variety in your life.

The first day you were completely left alone, you decided to start the morning with a run on the treadmill. It was raining outside but you tried to picture what it would be like to run through the winding paths of Central Park, all the way to the fountain. Then, after showering, you rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen to find all the ingredients you needed to make chocolate muffins.

By the time the sun started to set, you were quietly impressed with how well you’d managed to distract yourself. But it was only one day, and you had over three-hundred and fifty more to fill. You made yourself some dinner, drew some blood and took it out to the fridge for Mr Russo, whenever he decided to get it.

Then, you ended up on the sofa.

Initially you’d only wanted to sit down for a few minutes, feeling tired and a little bit unsteady after putting today’s blood in the fridge. You had a feeling that you might have drawn a little too much, and you found your eyes drifting shut. 

The alarm on your watch woke you, set to remind you every night when it was approaching 9pm so you could retire to your suite, as per the rules. You felt groggy as your eyes opened, taking a second to sharpen.

And there he was, sitting on the opposite side of the wrap-around sofa, a glass in his hand, dark eyes set on you.

You sat up quickly - so quickly that it made you feel dizzy.

Your cheeks warmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or nausea.

If he cared about your display of discomfort, he certainly didn’t show it. In fact, for a moment you were sure you saw a flicker of a smirk cross his lips. For a second you found yourself staring, taking in the sight of him; dark suit, dark hair, and even darker eyes. He was stunning, even by vampire standards.

“I’m sorry, I -” you started, flustered. You didn’t even know what you were apologising for. It wasn’t like you’d broken any of his rules.

“So you’re the new one,” his voice didn’t sound like you thought it would. For the look of him, you’d imagined a smooth but commanding tone, instead there was something rough to it.

“Yes, sir,” you answered, quickly introducing yourself to him rather than addressing what exactly he meant by the new one.

“Drink that,” he instructed and you noticed the glass of orange juice on the table. “It’ll help with the blood loss.”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction, embarrassed that he’d figured out why you were sleeping on the sofa. (Just how long had he been sitting watching you sleep, anyway?)

You gave a muttered thank you before reaching for the glass and slowly starting to drink. You’d forgotten to take your supplement too and that probably wasn’t helping.

“So, what are you running from?”

“I'm sorry?” You asked, not understanding the question. 

“You've agreed to spend a year living in the home of a man you've never met - a vampire, no less - so, what are you running from?” He looked at you as if he could look through you, as if he expect a lie and he’d be able to catch you in it

“I’m not running,” you answered, forcing yourself to sit a little straighter, despite the light-headedness. “I just didn’t want to be at home anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Does it matter?” You answered flippantly before realising that that wasn’t the best way to talk to your new employer. “I mean - I already signed all of your contracts, so does it make a difference?”

“It does if I end up with your parents at the door screaming about how I spirited away their daughter and have her under my thrall so I can drain her blood.”

“Has - has that happened before?” There was something about his face, his eyes, it made it impossible to tell if he was joking or being serious. “Things like this are legal, so it’s not like they could complain...”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

It was only then that you realised what was in his glass, the dark viscous liquid he was gently swirling. He was sitting and having this conversation with you while cradling a glass of your blood.

“I’m not avoiding it,” you decided to tell him, “I just don’t want to answer it. I appreciate how this could look to some people, but I can promise you my family won’t be an issue. They don’t even know that I’m here and they have no way of finding me.”

“So, not running, escaping,” he stated like he didn’t want a response and already knew he was going to get one. And, finally, he lifted his glass and took a slow drink..

You didn’t want to watch him drink, but you found that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, watching the gentle bob of his throat and the way he licked his lips after draining half the glass. When he caught you looking, you dropped your attention to your own glass and took a slow drink.

“I’m not your first am I?” 

Sputtering, you almost choked on your drink and, for some reason, your mind immediately went to the drawer of toys in your bedroom. Your cheeks continued to warm as the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“My first what?”

“Vampire.”

“No. I mean, I’ve never -” you took a second, trying to regain your composure. “I’ve met other vampires, I’ve just never let them...”

He lifted the glass and cocked an eyebrow before taking a drink. This time when he drank, you let him see you watching, feeling your heart stutter in your chest. Again, his tongue wiped away any trace of your blood from his lips and he looked oddly satisfied.

“Do you like it here? Are you settling in?” He asked, and you were starting to realise he was trying to get a measure of you. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

“Yes, you have a lovely home,” you answered before taking an awkward drink. You weren’t sure what else to say about it because, outside of the library, there wasn’t much to the penthouse. In fact, once you started thinking about it, you couldn’t help but realise that it seemed a little cold and lonely. But, perhaps it was different in his rooms, perhaps that was where he’d made his penthouse into a home.

“You like the library,” a statement more than a question.

“Yes, I - how did you know?” Had he been spying on you? Watching you?

“My copy of Dorian Gray,” he stated softly, and you felt your breath catch, “it doesn’t seem to be where I left it.”

“It’s in my room,” you answered, worried that you might have already done something wrong - you couldn’t afford to lose this job, not after only a week. “No one told me that I couldn’t take it out of the library, I just wanted something to read in bed and I -”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. “You can take as many books from the library as you want, as long as they’re returned undamaged.”

It seemed to mean a lot to him and, perhaps, you should have asked why but, instead, you found yourself feeling indignant.

“I’d never damage a book,” you told him, “especially one that didn’t belong to me.”

Again, he seemed more amused than fazed by your response. “So, you like to read?”

You nodded.

“Why?” His eyes stayed on you, staring through you, right to your soul. At least, that was how it felt. Your lips parted, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Why did anyone like to read? “Escapism? Perhaps to imagine a better life? Or is it love and fantasies of fictional men who will treat you better than anyone in the real world that you enjoy?”

“Is that why you have all those books? To fantasise about fictional men?” you found yourself responding, trying desperately to ignore the heat burning through your cheeks.

He let out a laugh, a deep and dark sound that sent a shiver up your spine. The smirk on his lips grew and, for a moment, he just watched you before shrugging.

“Sometimes men, sometimes women,” he admitted with ease, lifting his glass and draining it, leaving nothing but a pinkish stain on the inside of the glass. “I like you,” he decided and you weren’t sure if he meant you or your blood. “This is going to be fun.”

With that, he got to his feet and all you could do was watch, getting some idea of his height and how he held himself once he was standing. He moved with the confidence of a predator who knew his own strength even if others couldn’t see it, and you knew immediately that you shouldn’t underestimate him.

“You should return to your rooms,” he told you, turning and heading for the kitchen to get rid of his empty glass. “I wouldn’t want Lissa finding out that you’ve already broken your contract.”

For a second you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you saw the time. Twenty past nine. He’d kept you talking for almost half an hour. (Could he really fire you for that when he was the reason?)

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time, I -” you got to your feet so quickly that you almost fell back down

“I’m joking,” it hadn’t sounded like a joke. He glanced back towards you, offering something of a smile. “You should go back to your rooms and rest, though. And tomorrow, take more care when you’re drawing blood. I wouldn’t want you fainting.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before moving towards the elevator and slipping inside once the doors opened.

For a few seconds, you stood, at a loss over what had just happened, before quickly making your way back to your own rooms.

CHAPTER TWO

End Notes : Sooo... there it is. I honestly hate starting new fics because I always feel like they start a little slow. I'm not sure what the posting schedule will look like for this one, I'm hoping once a week (on Friday evenings) but I'll post an update or something if that changes.

Thanks for checking this out, I know it's a bit of a departure from Catch Me if You Can. Have a wonderful weekend.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Sneak Peak

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes, as well as obvious mentions of blood.

A/N : Yes, this one is going to be a vampire fic. I'm not sure what my posting schedule will look like yet, either a chapter a week or one a fortnight. I'm not tagging this post so you'll probably only see it if you follow me but, idk, if you want tagging once I start posting the fic, let me know? I've been reading some gothic literature lately (Picture of Dorian Gray and Jane Eyre) so that's going to influence this. It's going to be a dark fic, but it's not going to stray into dead dove territory. The first chapter will be up on Friday. Anyway, here's a little sneak peak.

It was official; you'd lost your fucking mind.

You’d been standing outside the building for five minutes now, the paperwork tucked in your coat pocket feeling heavier by the second. Were you sure that you wanted to do this? Could you really give up a year of your life to serve a vampire?

What other choice did you have?

A lithe and pale figure watched from behind the tinted, UV proof glass while you changed your mind a dozen times over. After a few more minutes, the sun finally disappeared into the New York skyline, plunging the street into shadow.

The door opened.

The figure called your name, and you stepped forward, almost mesmerised by the lilting, lyrical tone of her voice. You shook your head a little, trying to keep your wits about you. 

You took in the sight of her as she held open the door; taller than you with a willowy figure, long white hair down to her hips, and eyes of pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You’d seen enough vampires to tell one by sight.

Your small suitcase was clutched in your hand, the few possessions that meant anything to you had been hastily packed before you’d headed to New York, and now felt like all you had left in the world. She glanced at the suitcase with disdain, but said nothing.

“Do you have the paperwork?” She asked, the soft but icy sound of her voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded and she held out her hand expectantly, waiting while you fished the folded mess of documents from your coat. She gave the contract a cursory glance, making sure you’d signed every dotted line, before; “good. And are you sure you understand everything that this position entails and what will be required of you?”

You nodded again.

“Speak up,” she prompted. “This is your last chance to ask questions.”

Despite the impatience on her face, you took a moment. Only minutes ago you’d had at least half a dozen questions about the job and the mysterious vampire who had hired you.

“What happened to the last person who took this job?” Her eyebrow rose, obviously not expecting that question. “The contract is for a year, but I’ve seen this job advertised three times in the last ten months.”

“There are a lot of people who mistakenly believe that they can do what is required of them. Many have come to work for Mr Russo, and many have disappointed him,” she shrugged.

“What happened to them?”

“The same thing that will happen to you if you breach your contract; immediate dismissal with no severance,” she explained, slowly starting to step towards the elevator. “During your time here, everything will be provided for you and you will only be paid once your term of service is completed.”

“A million dollars,” even though that was the amount in black and white on the contract, it still didn’t seem real to you.

“Yes,” she pressed the call button, putting an obvious timer on this conversation. “Like I said, this is your last chance to ask questions. Once I take you upstairs, your contract will officially begin, and you will forfeit the agreed upon rights.” 

You swallowed the lump that had risen in your throat and nodded, knowing you had no choice. You needed the money and a year wasn’t that long if you really thought about it. 

The elevator doors slid open and you took one last deep breath before stepping inside.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Epilogue

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and extreme cuteness. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~2.7k

A/N : I couldn't not write them getting married. This is a cute little send off for Billy and Reader.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Epilogue

TWO MONTHS LATER

You’d talked about a long engagement - it made sense given the fact that you’d only known each other for around eight months when he proposed (and those eight months had been some of the rockiest of your life). You’d both agreed that it was sensible to wait, to get used to living together before taking another big step in your relationship.

You made it six weeks before changing your mind.

Everyone thought you were crazy, Sam begged you to wait just a few more months (to Billy’s annoyance), and the news rendered Karen speechless for at least five minutes before she started to go into overdrive thinking about her bridesmaid duties.

You couldn’t explain why, you just knew. Nothing was going to change the way you felt about Billy and, every day with him just felt perfect, right. So, what was the point in waiting to make it official?

That was how you came to be standing on a beach in Mexico at sunset, a small group of your friends and family watching as you made your way towards the little altar and Billy. His mouth hung open as he watched you walk down the short, sandy aisle towards him and when you reached him, he was at a complete loss for words.

“I think that look means he likes the dress,” Karen joked in your ear.

Your dress was simple but elegant, hugging your figure in all the right places and showing just enough skin to be enticing without being indecent. Karen and your sister-in-law, Liv, and helped with your hair and make up, and you’d never felt better about yourself than you did in that moment. Especially with how Billy was looking at you.

“You look -” he tried and shook his head, “- wow.”

“You look pretty good too,” you joked, reaching for him to smooth the collar of his light grey suit jacket.

“You sure you want to do this?” He almost sounded nervous, like it was finally becoming real to him; you were going to be his wife.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this,” you smiled, your hand cupping his cheek for a moment, before finally turning to face the man officiating over the marriage. Billy took a breath before doing the same. 

You barely listened to the words being spoken, you were too busy watching Billy from the corner of your eye, nervous but happier than you’d ever been. And, when it was finally time for your vows, you turned to Billy, watching your normally calm and confident man fumble with a piece of paper handed to him by Frank.

“I never really had anyone in my life who loved me before you,” he started softly, his eyes fixed on yours. “I never had anyone want me after seeing every side of me, never had anyone who laughed at my stupid jokes until you. My life changed that day I took you for coffee and, since then, there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you.”

You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, that you didn’t want to ruin the wedding photos with panda-eyes, but the moment Billy took your hands in his, you felt your eyes starting to well up.

“When I’m with you I get to see the world in new and amazing ways; you give my life colour and meaning. I feel like I’m living and not just existing. And the way you love me -” his voice threatened to break, “- I never expected it, never thought I deserved it. But I promise you, from this day forward, I’ll do everything I can to deserve it, to deserve you. I promise to love you and protect you until my dying day, and I promise to make our lives together as fun and filled with happiness as I can. And I promise to trust you and listen to you, and never doubt you.”

He swallowed, trying to force the lump from his throat. “You’re my everything and I’ll never let you go.”

You blinked, still trying to hold back the tears as he gave your hands a gentle squeeze, and you were prompted to start your own vows. Unlike Billy, you’d memorised yours though, for a couple of seconds your mind threatened to go blank.

“Billy, you have the biggest heart and so much love to give. I know you sometimes think that it’s too much and that you want too much, but I promise you that’s not true. It’s never too much, not if it’s me and you,” you heard him awkwardly inhale through his nose, as if he was trying to fight back tears too. “I’m with you, no matter what life throws at us, I promise to stay by your side, and I will always protect and love you.”

You smiled at him and he smiled back with the most perfect and genuine smile you’d ever seen grace his lips. “I promise you a life full of adventure and bad jokes. And I vow to do everything I can to make you smile like that every single day because you do deserve it, Billy. Most importantly, I promise I’ll never leave you; I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Always,” he muttered softly, gripping your hands a little tighter.

The ceremony continued and soon enough he was sliding the ring onto your finger, and at the words you may kiss the bride, Billy moved faster than you’d ever seen anyone move, pulling you close and kissing you like his life depended on it. And you lost yourself to it and him, letting him kiss you until your lungs started to burn and you heard Karen clearing her throat to remind you that you had an audience.

The look on Billy’s face when you parted was enough to have you laughing, your hand pressing against his chest, pushing him back playfully, but lingering over his racing heart.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” he grinned at you.

“No backsies,” you agreed, struggling to tear your eyes off of him, even though your guests were on their feet, waiting to congratulate you.

Frank clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder, pulling him back a little.

“Congratulations, brother,” he said in that usual gruff way.

“Your turn next, Frankie,” Billy laughed, glancing at Karen who threatened to murder him under her breath. 

You spent the next half hour or so going around the guests. Sam and Liv congratulated you both, and Billy promised them that he’d always take good care of you. All of Billy’s friends took the opportunity to wish you good luck and tell you how much of a pain in the ass Billy was, making both of you laugh. And, when it was finally done, you all headed to the bar for food and drinks. 

And, when the music started playing, you and Billy got to have your first dance. He’d asked to choose the song and had kept it secret, and when you heard the opening bars of Ho Hey by The Lumineers, you found yourself smiling up at him, holding him tight in your arms. And, by the time it reached the chorus and you heard Billy softly singing the line you’re my sweetheart, the tears you’d been trying to hold back started to spill.

He held you tight and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he told you, over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of the words.

And you knew that you’d never get sick of hearing them.

At some point, since arriving in Mexico, your niece and nephew had taken a real shine to Billy, and spent at least an hour chasing him around, tickling and wrestling with him. And, to your surprise, Billy went along with it, seeming to genuinely enjoy it. You’d never spoken about kids but, for a few moments you found yourself thinking that Billy would make a wonderful father one day. Maybe.

Eventually it started to get late and, one by one, your friends started to disappear until there was only you, Billy, Frank and Karen left standing. You sat and drank until well past midnight, until Billy’s hand started to pull on yours, and you knew exactly what that meant, so you got up and started to say goodnight.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got to go consummate our marriage,” Billy grinned, and you gave him a slap on the chest as your cheeks started to heat. “If we’re not done by breakfast, send pancakes. I have a feeling we’ll be at it all -”

“Billy!” You hit him again, mortified as Karen and Frank both tried not to laugh.

“What? It’s not like they don’t know what we’re gonna spend all night doing,” he laughed.

You had to pull on his arm to get him away from them before he said anything else, both of you stumbling and giggling like drunken teenagers all the way back to the honeymoon suite.

While you’d been at the wedding, the hotel staff had been into the room to put out flowers and a bottle of champagne, and had sprinkled rose petals along the floor leading to the bed - not that you got the chance to appreciate it before Billy started kissing you. Your hands ran up his chest, over his shirt, his jacket having long since been abandoned, fingers starting to tug at buttons.

“I love you, Mrs Russo,” he murmured against your lips before capturing them in another searing kiss. 

You felt his fingers tugging at the back of your dress, pulling it down with a desperation that was just so Billy. You’d once found yourself thinking that, one day, he’d settled down, that he wouldn’t want you with such needy desperation, but now you knew just how wrong you’d been. Billy would always want you, and you would always want him.

He pulled back from the kiss when your dress fell, wanting to take in the sight of you. You’d picked the white lingerie set knowing exactly how he’d respond. And Billy didn’t disappoint.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, taking it all in.

“Yeah, Billy, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do,” you joked as you reached for his pants, stripping him down to his underwear.

“Oh, are we?” 

Before you could answer, he’d lifted you off your feet, spinning you around before playfully throwing you onto the bed and climbing on beside you, kissing you despite your laughter. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the perfect moment. His hands explored your body, fingertips running over your bare skin like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“There’s so much I want to do to you, I don’t even know where to start,” Billy admitted, seeming almost lost and at the mercy of his own desires.

“I know exactly where I want to start,” you answered, gently pushing Billy onto his back and straddling him.

He looked up at you as you started to slowly grind yourself against him. It came as no surprise that he was already hard for you, and he felt so good pressed between your thighs. You were content to tease him like that for a minute or so, before you removed your bra. Billy’s hands slipped up your body, from your waist to your breasts. It wasn’t long before he was sitting up, his lips and tongue on your nipples, enjoying all the little sounds that slipped from your lips.

Eventually, you lightly pushed him down again, smiling a devious smile at him as you turned yourself around over him, practically straddling his face.

“I like where this is going,” you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was grinning as his hand started to trail up the backs of your thighs, his lips soon following after. It was almost enough to distract you from what you wanted to do. 

Your hands slipped his boxers down his thighs, freeing his hard cock, and Billy let out an eager moan as you took him in his hand and started to stroke him. Then you felt your panties rip.

“Billy!” You laughed.

“I want them for my collection,” he told you with a laugh of his own.

You were about to respond when you felt him part your folds and run his tongue through your arousal. The ruined panties were immediately forgotten as you lowered yourself and ran your tongue over the leaking tip of his cock. You felt him groan against you, causing you to shiver. Your lips wrapped around him and you slowly began to take him into your mouth, earning even more sounds from him. 

His tongue set to work against you as you sucked him, lips slipping up and down his cock in a way that betrayed just how much you were enjoying yourself. You trembled as his tongue alternated between teasing your clit and pressing at your slit, his name a gagged sound, moaned even though your mouth was full of him. It wasn’t long before you were grinding back against his face. 

You came suddenly, legs trembling as Billy’s greedy tongue continued to devour you while your lips kept moving, groaning around him until -

“Wait,” you heard him gasp, his hands pulling at your hips. You stopped and strained your neck to look back at him. “Not like this,” Billy panted, “I want to come inside you. I want the first time to be inside you.”

You weren’t sure why, but it made you smile how he wanted to make this moment special for both of you. Pulling away from him, before you could even fully turn yourself around, Billy had you pinned beneath him, his cock pitching into your so suddenly that it almost made your eyes roll back.

“I left something out of my wedding vows,” he told you breathlessly, stilling inside you, a ridiculous grin on his lips, “I promise to spend the rest of my life making you come as often as I can.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say that in front of everyone,” you laughed.

You gasped as he pulled up your leg, hitching it on his hip so he could bury every inch of himself inside you. His hand found your cheek and for a few moments he was content to just stare down at you, the smile on his lips enough to make you tremble around him.

“I love you,” he told you, pressing his lips to the tip of your nose, “and I vow to spend every night proving it by fucking your brains out.”

“I promise to let you,” you told him, reaching to slip your fingers back into his hair, pulling his lips to yours as he finally started to move.

It started slow, but it wasn’t long before your hips were lifting to meet his, desperate for so much more, desperate for everything. Every time he kissed you, you tasted a mixture of yourself and the Mai Tai’s you’d both spent the night drinking and it was an intoxicating combination. Your moans got louder and so did his, both gasping little breathless confessions of love, as you both took and gave everything that you needed.

When you finally came, it was his name on your lips, and Billy quickly followed after, remaining inside you long after he was done. His face pressed against your neck while your fingers ran through his sweat-damp hair, pressing little kisses to his temple.

It was strange to think how you’d gotten here; how he might never have noticed you if you’d remained sat in your car that summer's day, how you might never have gotten to this point if it hadn’t been for the faulty bathroom lock in your old apartment, and how you might never have seen him again if Michelle hadn’t sent him that thirst-trap on Halloween. There were so many ways you could have missed out on all of this, and just thinking about it made your heart ache.

You held him tight and pressed another kiss to his forehead, whispering; “I’m so glad we found each other.”

END NOTES : I promised an epilogue and there it is. Honestly, I just wanted to give them a happy send off. I know I already said it last week but thanks for reading, it's been a wild ride and I've really enjoyed writing and sharing this with you all! Maybe in the future there will be some one-shots, but for now I'm content to give them their happily ever after. I do have an idea of what I want to write next (don't worry, it's another Billy fic) and I'm going to post an excerpt sometime next week (and maybe even the first chapter but idk yet), so people can let me know if they want to be tagged in that, or if you already know you'd like me to tag you in future stuff, feel free to let me know in the comments or message me!

Have a great weekend!

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[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Five

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and extreme cuteness. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~5.2k

A/N : The final chapter. I really hope that this lives up to people's expectations.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Chapter Twenty-Five

The trip from the hospital to the penthouse left you feeling exhausted and, by the time Billy was helping you change into your pyjamas you were struggling to keep your eyes open. His touches were slow and delicate, treating you like you were the most fragile and precious thing in the world. And, you could tell from the little looks he shot you that he was still blaming himself for everything.

A soft sigh slipped from your lips as he helped you into bed and covered you with the duvet.

“You okay?” He asked in a quiet, subdued tone.

“Still a bit sore,” you admitted, “but I’m glad to be home.”

“Home,” Billy repeated, smiling. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted you moving in to go, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you sank back in the pillows a little more, “I’m glad we can just be together now.”

“Me too,” he fell silent for a few moments, watching as you struggled to stay awake. “Do you want to get some rest? I could -”

“Can you stay with me?” You asked, eyes suddenly wide open. “Can you hold me? I’ve missed you holding me.”

“Of course I can.”

You watched as he quickly slipped out of his red sweater and jeans, stripping right down to his boxers before rounding the bed and climbing in beside you. There was noticeable hesitation as he edged towards you, his arm carefully slipping over your chest so he could hold you.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” He muttered softly, smiling as your eyes finally closed.

“Love you Billy.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

After a few hours of sleep, you felt a little bit better. Billy was still beside you, scrolling through his emails on his phone. When he noticed you were awake, he smiled.

“How are you feeling? Need me to get you anything?”

“A glass of water would be great,” you answered, “and something to eat?

Billy gave a nod and quickly got out of bed. You watched as he left the room, phone in hand. He was only gone for a couple of minutes, you heard him making a call, obviously ordering dinner before he came back with your drink and handed it to you. Then, after a slight hesitation, he got back into bed with you.

“Can we talk about it?” You asked cautiously, after taking a drink. “Scott, I mean...”

“Why?” He tensed.

“I don’t know, I just -” you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say to him, what you wanted to ask, “- we didn’t get to talk about it at the hospital. Are you okay?”

“He’s not the first person I’ve killed.”

“It’s not the same; you were a Marine in a warzone. This is -”

“Murder,” he filled in the blank without hesitation, without remorse.

And, maybe that should have bothered you more than it did; Billy had killed a man for you. Admittedly, not a great man, and certainly not one that you were going to miss in any way, shape or form. But a life was still a life and you were certain that neither of you should feel happy about it.

Billy took a slow breath.”Look, you don’t need to feel guilty about any of it. I would have killed him even if you told me not to.”

“It’s not guilt, it’s just - I dunno, Billy. A man is dead because of me...”

“You could have died because of him,” Billy answered back without hesitation. “He tried to kill you twice. He called you a whore, said you weren’t worth it.” There was no missing the bite in his tone, or the way his hand curled into a fist. “You are worth it. You mean everything to me -”

“Billy -”

“No, I’d kill a hundred men like him if it meant keeping you safe. I’d burn down the whole fucking world just to protect you.”

And you knew he would. With anyone else you’d think it was hyperbolic, you’d think he was just saying what he thought you wanted to hear, but not Billy. That was the wonderful and tragic thing about him, about the way he loved you; it was a lot, it was everything he had, every ounce of himself. You’d never change that about him, and you’d never want to. That  was Billy. That was the man you loved, and loving him meant accepting him.

So, you nodded and reached for his hand, gently prising his tight fist open so your fingers could slip between his. 

“Okay,” you told him, and that was that.

It wasn’t long before your food was delivered and you couldn’t help but laugh that he’d chosen to order pizza, just like he had the first night he’d brought you back to the penthouse. You sat together in bed, eating pizza and watching TV until you finally fell asleep again.

Hours later, voices outside the bedroom woke you; Billy and Sam.

“Look, I appreciate what you did for her, but I think it’d be better for everyone if she came back to Connecticut with me,” you heard Sam say. “She needs people around her to look after her.”

“She has people here,” Billy answered. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“You can’t expect me to leave my sister here with a killer.”

“And you can’t expect me to let her go with the man who allowed that piece of shit to keep breathing after the first time he tried to kill her,” Billy replied. Your breath caught, torn between listening to more and calling out to stop them from fighting. “Anyway, I’ve seen your service record, you’ve got blood on your hands too.”

“You think I didn’t want to kill that fucker -”

“I think you had every opportunity and you didn’t. I won’t let her go with anyone who’s not willing to do everything to protect her.”

“I know you think you love her, but -”

“I do love her, and there is nothing I won’t do for her,” you could hear the edge in Billy’s voice, the anger that he was barely managing to hold back. “Look around, look at the life I can give her; she’ll always be safe, she’ll never want for anything. You want to take that away from her? You want to take her away from everything that she’s achieved here? Her friends, her new job?”

A silence followed and you didn’t dare breathe in case you missed something.

“You don’t know her like I do,” Sam stated and your heart sank a little but you didn’t get time to dwell on it.

“I know her better than you do,” Billy was quick to answer. “You see her as some weak little thing just because she’s your sister. But I don’t. I see a woman who’s not scared to put me in my place when I fuck up, someone who’s been through so much and has kept going. She’s carried the guilt for your sister’s death for years, even though it was an accident, a stupid mistake. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met and if you can’t see that, then you don’t know your sister at all.”

Before that moment you hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more, but you soon felt tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

There was another silence before you finally heard Sam relent.

“Fine, but if you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.”

“If I ever hurt her, I’ll let you.” Billy quickly countered and you could hear just how serious he was.

There were some more muttered grumblings between the pair, but the tone had changed and both men seemed to have resolved their differences. Sam muttered something about coming back tomorrow to say goodbye before leaving town again and, then, when everything had fallen silent, you assumed that he had left.

You didn’t mention any of it to Billy when he came to bed later that night, and didn’t in the days that followed; it didn’t matter, there was no way you were going to go to Connecticut with Sam, not when everything in your life was finally perfect.

Sam insisted on staying in the city a little while longer, wanting to make sure you were going to be alright before he travelled home. He came by to see you most days and, slowly but surely, the tension seemed to ease between him and Billy, and they were able to stand each other enough to make small talk without either getting snippy.

Your heart was racing when the police arrived at the penthouse unexpectedly a week after you came home from hospital. Billy and Sam insisted that you weren’t ready to see them, that you were sleeping, but you managed to get yourself out of bed and made your way out of the bedroom.

The second you did, Billy was at your side, taking your arm.

“You don’t need to -”

“It’s okay, Billy. I’ll be fine,” you told him, letting him help you towards the sofa. “I need to tell the police that I’ve remembered what happened.”

Everyone, the police included, seemed a little taken aback by the comment, but no one tried to object. You sat, grimacing but trying not to let it show how sore you felt - the last thing you wanted was for Billy and Sam to worry about you. Before you started, Billy insisted on getting you something to drink, which in turn led to getting drinks for both of the officers, Sam, and himself.

The two officers sat opposite you, offering up their names and a few pleasantries before finally getting down to business.

“You said you’ve remembered what happened,” the younger of the two officers asked, a boyish looking man who had a friendlier face than his older partner, “would you be able to walk us through it, everything you remember from leaving Mexico right up to the incident?”

You nodded, discreetly trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Billy sat beside you and you soon had his hand in your own, held on your lap.

“We had an argument,” you glanced at Billy briefly, “Billy surprised me in Mexico and I thought - well, I thought he was there to propose to me,” at that Sam almost choked on his coffee, “but he wasn’t. It wasn’t a big argument, it was silly really, and I was embarrassed.”

Billy’s hand gave yours a gentle squeeze.

“I decided to come back to New York early because of it. I wanted to finish packing up my old apartment so we could move in here when Billy got back, and I wanted us to have a day or two apart so I could get over my embarrassment,” you shrugged uncomfortably but managed to force something of a smile to your face.

“I took a taxi home from the airport, had something to eat, then I was about to try to get a couple of hours sleep when someone knocked on the door,” your voice cracked. You tried to lean forward to grab your mug from the coffee table, but winced as pain lanced through your abdomen. 

“Here, sweetheart, let me,” Billy reached for your mug as you sat back and, when he handed it to you, you caught something almost helpless in his eyes. “You don’t have to do this now if you don’t feel up to it.”

“It’s fine. I want to tell them what happened,” you told him, taking a quick sip of your coffee before continuing. 

“You heard the knock...” the older officer prompted.

“I thought it was just a delivery or something for Tammy - Tammy was my roommate - but it wasn’t,” again your voice threatened to break. “It was my ex-boyfriend Scott Hendrix.”

“And did you talk to Mr Hendrix at all? Did he say anything to you before he shot you?” The younger officer asked, furiously scrawling in his notepad.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, feeling Billy’s hand twitch in yours. “He told me he wanted money, he said he owed someone money and he thought I owed him.”

“And why did he think that?” The older one asked.

“He blamed me for his life falling apart,” you gave another awkward shrug, trying to ignore the pain in your side. “He went to prison for a DUI after crashing his car with both of us in it, the judge gave him a harsher sentence because I was badly hurt but -”

“She wasn’t just hurt, he was trying to kill her,” interrupted Sam. “She wouldn’t testify because she was scared of him and his family.”

The officers looked at you and all you could do was nod to confirm the story. 

“He tried to kill me because I wanted to leave him; I’d had enough of the drinking and the drugs. So, when he showed up and demanded money, I knew that was what it was for. He got angry when I said no and pulled a gun,” you looked down for a moment at Billy’s hand in yours. “He told me they were gonna kill him if he didn’t get their money -”

“Did he say who they were?” The younger one interrupted.

“No, he just said he owed a lot of money and, he figured, because I was with Billy I could get it for him. I told him no and tried to close the door, that’s when he -” when your voice broke again, Billy decided to intervene.

“Is there anything else you need? She needs to rest,” he stated, his grip tightening but this time not loosening even a fraction.

“How did you get that bruise on your cheek, Mr Russo?” The older cop asked, eyeing Billy for a second.

“I gave him it,” Sam answered, reminding everyone that he was still in the room.

“And why was that?” Asked the older officer.

“Because my sister had just been shot and I was looking for someone to take my frustrations out on,” Sam shrugged.

There was a moment of silence as both officers glanced at each other, as if deciding what to say next.

“You should know that we found where Mr Hendrix was staying in the city, as well as recovering a gun - it’s being tested at the lab to see if it matches the weapon that was used to shoot you,” the older cop explained. “Mr Hendrix was nowhere to be found.”

“What do you mean nowhere to be found?” Asked Sam.

“You mean that prick is still out there?” Billy added. The pair of them deserved an Oscar nomination.

“There was evidence found at the scene to suggest that Mr Hendrix had been badly injured, though we won’t know for sure until we hear back from the lab but, I can give you my assurances that the NYPD are looking for him.” The younger cop told you, offering a soft smile, as if he wanted to try and make you feel better about the thought that Scott could still be in the city.

“We’d offer to put a uniform on your door, but it seems like Mr Russo already has that covered,” added the older guy with a glance in Billy’s direction which, in turn, led to you looking at him.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Billy offered.

“Anyway,” started the older cop, draining his mug of coffee and placing it down before reaching into his jacket for his card, “I think we’ve got everything we need. If you remember anything else, my number is on the card. And if Mr Hendrix tries to contact you -”

“He’ll wish he didn’t,” Billy stated, letting go of your hand and getting to his feet. “We appreciate you stopping by, officers, but she really needs to rest now.”

The officers stood, muttering their goodbyes and telling you that you didn’t need to see them out, but that didn’t stop Billy from following them and making sure they got on the elevator.

“What the fuck that?” Sam asked around twenty seconds after the elevator doors had slid shut.

“What was what?” You asked, feigning ignorance.

“That - lying to the cops,” he sounded annoyed. “Have you got any idea how much trouble you’ll be in if they figure out you lied?”

“What was I supposed to do? Wait until they find something that might lead them back to Billy?”

“Sweetheart -” Billy tried to interrupt.

“No, you protected me, now I’m protecting you. Scott took enough from me, he’s not going to take you too, Billy. I won’t lose you,” you told him.

“You won’t, sweetheart, I promise you won’t,” he told you, sitting beside you and placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“We protect each other,” and that was how it was going to be from now on.

You felt a little better with each passing day but Billy continued to dote on you, barely leaving you alone for a moment, even after Sam had decided you were well enough for him to return to Connecticut. He did his work from home, hadn’t been to the office in over two weeks, but as much as you loved having him around, something was missing. 

Him.

All of him.

He was treating you like some fragile thing with delicate touches and the sort of softness that felt like he was barely there at all. Of course, you understood he was being careful because he loved you, because he didn’t want to risk hurting you or causing you any sort of pain, but you knew it wasn’t doing either of you any good. He sated some of your longings with his fingers, and you’d given him more handjobs in the last few weeks than you had in almost eight months of being together, but you needed more.

You both had needs, but you were coming to realise that Billy wasn’t going to be the first to act, so you decided to take the initiative. You slipped out of the bedroom in nothing but a silk robe, finding him on the sofa. His eyes followed you as you approached and grew wider as you dropped the robe to the floor and climbed onto his lap.

Before he could even think to question you, you were kissing him desperately, pressing yourself against him and slowly starting to rock your hips. Billy easily lost himself to you for a few wonderful minutes and you felt him start to grow hard in his pants, but it didn’t last.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered against your lips, sighing but not pulling back. 

“Then be gentle,” you retorted before capturing his lips again.

For a few moments he was content to kiss you, his hands running up your bare thighs to your hips, then your waist, but the feel of the dressing over your injury caused him to pull back again.

“I - I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

“You can,” you told him softly. “I don’t want you to fuck me, Billy, I want to make love.”

His breath caught and, for a few seconds, all he could do was stare at you awkwardly, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what you were asking him for, like something about your suggestion worried him. Your hand found his cheek, and you held his gaze.

“I don’t -”

“You do,” you told him softly, reassuringly, before taking his hand and slowly getting to your feet.

Billy rose slowly and let you lead him to the bedroom, where you slowly undressed him, running your hands over every inch of skin that you exposed. Once he was naked, his fingers lifted your chin and he just stared at you for a moment before, finally, kissing you. He held you close and carefully moved you onto the bed, placing himself on top of you, keeping his weight on his arms at your side.

Hesitation was etched on his features as he broke the kiss and stared down at you.

“You won’t hurt me,” you told him. “I trust you, Billy.”

His hips lowered and you felt the tip of his cock graze your clit and, after weeks of nothing but his hand between your legs, it made you shiver. He hesitated for a few seconds, but the moment he was pressed against you, the moment he could feel how wet you already were, he knew he couldn’t stop.

A long, relieved exhale escaped you as he finally started to move. The feeling of his cock pressing into you after so many weeks without it felt heavenly, and Billy’s soft groan told you he felt the exact same way. He moved so slowly that you could feel every inch as he filled you, and once you’d taken him all, he lingered long enough that you could feel him throbbing inside you.

Any discomfort you felt was forgotten the moment his hips started to draw back, your body already trembling beneath him.

“Billy -” you moaned, your fingertips pressing into his back.

Once he was certain that you weren’t in any sort of pain, he started to move with a little more purpose, not in his usual fast or rough way, but in a way that let you experience every single sensation.

“I love you,” he muttered breathlessly against your ear, lingering there and letting you feel every shallow breath against your skin, hearing every time his breath caught and every little groan.

“I love you too, Billy,” you moaned, angling your head so you could capture his lips in a kiss.

Your moans got louder, swallowed by Billy’s lips. Everything about it was perfect, everything was Billy. Fingers slipped into his hair and you heard him groan his approval, his lips pulling into a smile against yours.

“Mine,” you told him when your lips finally parted.

“Yours. Always,” he told you. “You feel so good...”

“So do you,” you moaned as he filled you again, your walls trembling and squeezing around him the closer you got to climaxing. 

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, a level of connection with him that made you feel like nothing existed outside of you and him and the moment you were sharing. His movements got a little faster the closer you got and, from his barely restrained groans, you could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

You moaned his name as you came, your whole body shivering with a pleasure you didn’t even know how to completely process. A few seconds later, he was following, twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

“Fuck -” he grunted, the movements of his hips turning awkward before finally stilling.

He leaned, his forehead against your and his eyes shut tight. You ran your fingers through sweat-damp hair, smiling and waiting for him to open his eyes. When he did, you could tell he was at a loss for words.

“That was amazing,” you decided to break the silence.

“I love you,” was how he chose to respond, pressing his lips to yours in a brief but wonderful kiss.

The room was slowly turning dark around you and, as much as you’d wanted everything that had happened, you felt exhausted. Billy slowly pulled out and moved to lay beside you, gathering you in his arms so you could rest your head on his chest while his hand gently stroked your hair.

Your eyes closed and you let out a slow breath as everything turned still and silent around you. Minutes ticked by, the steady drumming of his heartbeat almost lulling you to sleep. His hand in your hair had fallen still and you assumed that he’d fallen asleep. Everything about the moment was perfect, it was how you wanted to spend the rest of your life.

Then you heard it.

“Marry me,” he whispered softly. 

It sounded like he was testing the words, like he was trying them out to see how they sounded. You wanted to answer him, but the words wouldn’t come; he wasn’t asking, not really, he thought you were sleeping. So, you kept your eyes closed and, eventually, drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you woke to find Billy in an infectiously happy mood - obviously he’d needed last night just as much as you had. He made you breakfast in bed before surprising you and telling you that he was finally going to go back to the office. It felt like everything was going back to how it should be; you were feeling much better, he was going back to work, and in a week you’d be starting your job with The Bulletin. It was perfect. 

Billy left for work and you spent the day relaxing with a book, before throwing together a casserole in the kitchen for the pair of you to have for dinner - as much as you’d been enjoying Billy taking care of dinner since you’d gotten home, you were starting to get bored of take out. Once everything was ready, you returned to the armchair in the bedroom, alternating between reading your book and watching the sun set over the city.

He was later than expected getting home and, when you heard the elevator, you expected him to call out. Instead there was silence. It was enough to have you anxiously getting up from your chair and heading out to see why he was being so quiet.

You found him standing awkwardly, looking at the floor, a serious expression on his face. Your heart skipped a beat and dread started to coil in your stomach.

“Billy, what’s wrong?” You dared to ask, making your way towards him.

The suddenness of your voice startled him, and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“Nothing,” he managed in the most unconvincing tone, making you panic even more.

“Is it Scott? Did the police find something?” You stopped in front of him, worry written across your face.

“No, it’s not -” he looked at you for a moment before forcing a breath. “It’s not that. It’s - I need to ask you something.”

Your heart stuttered, remembering his whispered question the night before, and all you could do was nod, not knowing what you could possibly say. Billy took a moment and, for a second, you thought you could see fear in his eyes, like he was scared about what was about to happen.

“I know we haven’t known each other very long,” he started, his eyes fixed on yours, “but this last few weeks has shown me that I can’t go back to living without you. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.”

Despite his obvious nervousness, you felt your lips pulling into a smile as tears started to well in the corners of your eyes.

“I love you,” he continued, “more than I thought I’d ever be able to love anyone, and that’s never gonna change.” 

Your heart almost stopped when he slowly got down on one knee and pulled a ring box from his pocket. His trembling hands opened the lid to reveal the ring inside; simple, delicate and elegant. Perfect.

“I know I fuck up sometimes and I piss you off, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy,” he looked up at you expectantly, even though he hadn’t actually asked.

Wiping your eyes, you smiled down at him. “Ask me the question, Billy.”

“Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” the word was instant, not even needing to think about it or consider any of it. Maybe it was crazy, but you’d been through more with Billy in the last eight months than most couples went through in a lifetime.

“Really?” His question, the confusion and relief in his voice, was enough to have you dropping to your knees in front of him, taking his face between your hands.

“Yes, Billy.” You told him again. “I will marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His hand took yours, sliding the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit. You leaned forward to kiss him, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” he told you softly. “We don’t have to marry straight away, we can have a long engagement, we can do whatever -”

You pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“Take me to bed, Billy.”

A blink of an eye later and you were on your back in bed, Billy’s greedy lips and tongue on your pussy, driving you insane. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you could see the diamond ring every time you looked down at him. Crying out as sank his fingers inside you, and trembling as he sucked your clit. Even though Billy tried to take things slow, with teasing and measured movements, it had been so long since he’d gone down on you that you came after only a few minutes.

He lifted his head and smiled up at you, his lips and chin glistening, though he seemed hesitant and you could guess why.

“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m okay,” you warned playfully. “Just get up here and fuck me.”

Billy didn’t need to be told twice. He moved up your body like a predator and, when you reached for him, you could feel his taut muscles beneath your hands. God, you wanted him. You’d never stop wanting him. And just one look from him told you that he felt the same. 

He kissed you as he slid inside you, and you held him tight, moaning against his lips. When hips started to move, you could tell that he was still holding back. You moved beneath him, meeting his thrusts, silently begging him for more with every shift of your hips.

“Billy -” you moaned against his lips, you fingers curling in his hair again, “- I said fuck me.”

He started to move a little faster, sinking himself deeper with every stroke, his cock filling you in a way it hadn’t for weeks.

“Such a needy little pussy,” he muttered against your lips. “It’s all mine now.” 

His lips moved to your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin, driving you wild. And still - still you wanted more. Everything. You could hear him muttering and grunting against your neck, the word ‘mine’ leaving his lips, over and over. 

“I’m yours, Billy,” you moaned breathlessly, “forever.”

You pulled at his hair, causing him to lift his head from your neck so you could kiss him as you came for him, moaning into his mouth as your wall clenched around him. It was enough to drive Billy over the edge and soon you felt the steady pulse of his cock as he filled you.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned as he came, holding him tight as he stilled deep inside of you.

“I love you,” he told you between panted breaths, lingering inside you long after he’d finished, not wanting to sever your connection. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Epilogue

END NOTES :  I don't know what to say. Honestly. When I started this I expected maybe three of four people might take an interest but I've honestly been overwhelmed by all the likes, the reblogs, and the comments; it's really made this a joy to write. While this is the lat main chapter of the story, I will be posting an epilogue next week and, in future, I might do some one shots with with reader and Billy. But, ultimately, after everything I wanted them to have a nice, happy ending and I hope you all enjoy that.

Thank you so so much for for those who have been following for the last five months! ... I know, it really has been five months and my mind is blown. This is the longest, consistent writing project I've ever undertaken - for context, altogether, this fic is about 110000 words and 220 doc pages, which just sounds insane.

ANYWAY. I'm rambling. Tune in next week for the epilogue. And thank you again, whether you like/comment/reblog or just read along every week. You all made this such a wonderful and fun experience for me!! I will have a little update next week after the epilogue when I decide what I'm going to do next on this blog. Have a great weekend!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal  @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote  @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim  @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn  @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj @bunnygirlwriter876  @maddiedrmr @naabbie @arieltwvdtohamflash @yukimaniac

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Four

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - some violence

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence and death (as expected tbh), Krista being a mega bitch again, and some vague mentions of Billy's childhood trauma. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : The aftermath of the last chapter.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Chapter Twenty-Four

Too late.

He got back to New York too late. It was only a matter of minutes, stuck in traffic with Karen, just around the corner from your apartment when he got the call from Frank, and his whole world came to a halt. It felt like his worst nightmare had come true. He barely heard a thing Frank said after the initial news, the only thing he could hear was a ringing in his ears as his chest got tight and he had to force himself to breathe. 

Karen had to demand he pull over so she could drive, not mentioning the panic attack but giving him concerned glances all the way to the hospital.

But they were late again; you’d been taken for surgery, Frank explained, as he held Karen tight.

Billy knew that he should stay, that he should be there when you woke up. (If you woke you - no, no he couldn’t think like that, he wasn’t going to lose you. He couldn’t lose you.)

He felt lost, still reeling from the panic attack he’d suffered in the car, but he knew he needed to do something. 

“I need you to stay here and tell me when she gets out of surgery -”

“Bill, what the fuck are -” Frank tried to interrupt, but Billy kept on going.

“Her brother should be on the way. I’ll text him to come here instead of the apartment. I should be back by the time -”

“Bill, there ain’t no way I’m letting you go on your own,” Frank let go of Karen and took a step forward.

“Go where? What the fuck are you talking about, she needs...” she fell silent the moment she realised what was going on. “Are you fucking insane?”

“He could’ve killed her. He’s not getting away with that,” Billy answered before looking to Frank. “You should stay here.”

“The hell I am.” Frank countered. Billy knew there was no arguing with him and that they didn’t have time. “Karen, can you stay here and let us know if anything happens?”

“I guess there's no talking you out of this?” She sighed.

“He can't get away with this,” Billy shook his head.

“What about the cops?” She asked. “Can't they -”

“He's already tried to kill her once before, I'm not letting him have a third go,” Billy answered impatiently, “Can you just -”

“Yeah, I’ll keep you up to date. Just be careful,” her gaze lingered on Frank before shifting to Billy, “both of you.”

Both men nodded before heading for Frank’s truck. There was no conversation - there was really nothing to say, they both knew where they were heading and what needed to be done. The only stop was at Anvil, to collect what they needed and change vehicles, all the while acting like everything was perfectly normal and that they weren’t about to do some unspeakable and terrible thing.

There was a blind rage inside of him, the likes of which he’d never felt before. He’d been driven to violence in the past, but he’d never felt it so intensely before. All he could think about was how he could have lost you, how he could still lose you. Frank spoke from time to time, but Billy had no idea what he was saying. He couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in his ears and all of his own panicked thoughts.

He knew that Frank was probably still trying to talk him out of it, telling him that it wasn’t too late to go back to the hospital and wait for you to get out of surgery, but Billy knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you again until he'd put things right, until he knew you’d never be in any danger again.

When the van finally stopped, he looked at Frank, catching the worry on his friend’s face.

“You don't have to do this, Bill,” Frank offered, trying to give his friend a way out. “We could leave it to the cops...”

“What would you do if it was your girl in the hospital?”

Frank hesitated a moment. “I'd tear the fucker limb from limb.”

“Exactly. You should get outta here before anyone sees you, Frankie.” Billy told him, pulling up his hood and grabbing the duffle of supplies he’d packed at Anvil. “I’ll meet you at the hospital later, let me know if...” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, let alone think about it.

Frank gave a nod and Billy closed the door, stepping away from the car. He took a breath, forcing away every thought except for one; his mission.

They’d known where Scott was staying the moment he got into the city, even though the AirBnB was booked under a fake name and paid for using a store-bought prepaid credit card. Truth was, that Billy had had one of the analysts at Anvil tracking Scott’s movements ever since he found out about the PI, and it had always been his intention to keep you safe without you even knowing. 

But he’d failed. Your decision to come back to New York had made it impossible, and he hadn’t been able to get Frank to you in time to stop Scott from hurting you.

And, now, Scott was going to pay.

Billy moved slowly but purposefully, getting off the street and into the building as quickly as possible. There was no surveillance in the area, but he still couldn’t risk anyone stopping him. Recon showed that the building was mostly empty at the moment; most of the apartments were owned by the same asshole, all put up on AirBnB causing rent prices in the area to skyrocket. A real fucking racket.

But, there was an empty apartment between Scott and the next occupied unit and that was good news for Billy, and he made his way up to the fourth floor completely unnoticed. When he reached the door, Billy dropped to his knees and made quick work of picking the lock.

Once he was in the apartment, he quietly placed the bag down by the door. It didn’t take him long to find his target, lounging on the sofa like he didn’t have a care in the world. The asshole even had his gun just sitting there on the coffee table. Billy took a breath before unsheathing his knife and clearing his throat, alerting Scott to his presence.

He went for the gun on the table, but Billy was faster, his blade cutting so deep into Scott’s wrist that it severed tendons before he could even think about trying to pull the trigger. The gun dropped to the floor and Billy kicked it away, having no use for it.

Scott clutched his bleeding wrist to his chest, staggering backwards.

“What the fuck -”

“Don’t play dumb, Scott. We both know why I’m here; you hurt someone I care about, and I can’t let you keep living after that.” Billy almost smirked at the flash of fear and realisation that spread across Scott’s face.

“You’re the boyfriend, right?” He grit out. “You think that little whore is worth it? Do you even know who I am? Do you know what’ll happen to you if -”

Billy’s boot connected with his stomach, winding him and effectively silencing him. Scott continued to stagger back until his back was against the wall.

“She’s more than worth it,” Billy snarled. “And I know exactly who you are - I know what you are. Your family might be a big deal in Florida but you’re nothing in New York.”

Billy found a sense of satisfaction in the way Scott was practically cowering. It made him think about you, about all the times this piece of shit made you feel scared. Never again. He was going to see to it that you never had to worry about this prick again. And, for all of his posturing, he was pretty sure that Scott had reached the same conclusion that he had; he was about to die.

“I can pay you; just name your price,” he tried a different tack, trying to appeal to Billy as a businessman, pressing himself back against the wall like he thought he still had somewhere to hide.

“You’re gonna pay, just not with money,” He fought back a grin as the distance between them shrank to nothing at all, his blade pressed against Scott’s stomach. “The price is your life for her freedom. I can’t give her back the time you took from her, the time she spent scared and looking over her shoulder, but I can make it so she never has to worry about you again.”

Scott swung an awkward punch, catching Billy on the cheek, and he was repaid with a knee to the stomach.

“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Billy let out a huff of laughter, his free arm pinned against Scott’s throat, holding him in place. “Guess that’s why you went after a girl six years younger than you.”

“Are you really prepared to kill for that bitch?” He managed to choke out. “She tell you she loves you? Know how many times she told me that? She’s a liar, she’s -”

Billy pressed forward, the knife sinking in.

“Keep talking, please, give me a reason to make this slow,” he spoke through gritted teeth, face barely inches from Scott’s, struggling to hold himself back, while Scott tried to push him away. “No? You done talking? Not so fucking scary when you’re dealing with a grown man, are you? Guess I’m harder to push around -”

“I loved her!” He managed in an awful, painful gasp, as if that made anything better, as if he thought that might convince Billy that there was a reasonable explanation for what he’d done.

“No,” Billy snapped, twisting the knife. “I love her. And I’d rather die than hurt her like you did.”

He didn’t wait for a response, pulling back the knife before sinking it in, again and again. As he listened to the choked, wet gasps for breath, every ounce of anger came to the fore. He loved you - he loved you so fucking much, and this asshole had tried to take you away from him.

For a few moments he lost himself to it, to the rage and anger and pain inside of him. And the last thing Scott got to hear was Billy repeating those three simple and terrifyingly complicated words; “I love her.”

It wasn’t until he finally stepped back that he realised he wasn’t alone. Frank was there - how long he’d be there, Billy couldn’t say and he didn’t want to guess.

“I told you -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Frank shrugged, dropping the duffle Billy had left by the door, filled with things they’d need to get rid of the body. “Wasn’t going to leave you to do this alone, brother. We need to get this cleaned up, Karen says they should be finishing surgery soon.”

For a few seconds both men stood, looking at the body and the mess that Billy had created.

“Shit, Bill,” Frank muttered.

“I love her, Frankie,” Billy admitted quietly, sounding more scared than Frank had ever heard him.

Frank placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “I know you do. She’s gonna be alright. Doctor’s told Karen it was a through-and-though, didn’t hit anything vital.” 

“Guess this prick was as bad a shot as he was a boyfriend,” Billy shook his head, silently glad of the fact.

“Yeah,” Frank huffed. “Think I saw a suitcase in the hallway big enough to stuff him in.” 

“Right,” Billy nodded, knowing that they needed to get moving, but it took him a moment to tear himself from his thoughts. “I’ll go get some water.”

Both men separated, Frank heading to the hallway to find the suitcase, while Billy made his way to the kitchen to find a bucket.

They barely spoke as they went about wrapping the body in the plastic sheeting cleaning, both knowing that it would never be perfect, but that they could destroy enough evidence to make it almost impossible for anyone to say for certain just what went on.

------------

The room came into focus slowly, your head hurt and it felt like your brain was pulsing behind your eyes. It felt like the worst hangover you’d ever had, only you didn’t remember drinking. In fact, you couldn’t remember much of anything. You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to drift off and sleep until the pain stopped, but then you heard it; the beep-beep-beep of a heart rate monitor. For a few terrifying seconds you were transported back in time, back to the moment you woke up in hospital after the crash. 

Your stomach knotted and threatened to turn itself inside out as the sterile smell filled your nose when you tried to take a deep, calming breath. Desperately, you tried to fill in the blanks and understand what had happened; the crash had been years ago, you’d moved to New York, you’d met Billy, you’d been in Mexico...

Billy.

Where was Billy?

A clumsy hand tried to wipe your eyes, hoping to clear your vision a little more, instead finding bandages wrapped around your forehead. And, when you tried to sit, you found that you couldn’t move for the burning, throbbing pain in your abdomen.

“You’re awake,” there was something familiar about the feminine voice, but you couldn’t quite place it.

You struggled to focus on the figure sitting off to the side of your bed, blinking as your vision slowly came back into focus, though her name eluded you for a few, long moments.

“Krista?” Voice betraying your confusion. Why was Krista there?

“Good,” she smiled and shifted a little closer to you, “you remember me.”

“What happened? Why are you here?” Why were you in the hospital? Your eyes drifted from Krista for a moment, taking in the sight of your hospital room, looking for anything that might tell you what was going on.

“You don’t remember?” She asked and you shook your head. “You were shot. Luckily the bullet went right through, but it seems that you hit your head when you fell, which might account for any memory problems you’re having, though short-term memory loss can also be caused by traumatic circumstances. I’ve been asked to evaluate you and find out what you remember.”

“Where’s Billy? Why isn’t Billy here?” You tried desperately to remember the last time you’d seen him. Mexic; at dinner with him and Karen, then you’d gone back to his room and - after that, there was nothing but fuzziness. The monitor next to you started to beep faster as the panic set in. Had something happened to him too?

“We’re not sure where William is. The NYPD are looking for him -”

“Looking for him? Why?” You were struggling to follow what she was trying to tell you and it was starting to frustrate you.

“In connection with your shooting,” she said it like it was obvious, like it was fact. They thought that Billy had done this to you. “He was tracked on a private jet, arriving back in New York an hour before the shooting - from what we’ve managed to put together, you cut your vacation in Mexico short and returned back to the city alone, Billy followed you. After you were shot, his business partner, Frank Castle, found you and brought you to the hospital.”

“No, Billy would never -” your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was close your eyes again, but you knew you couldn’t. “Billy would never hurt me.”

“I know it’s not easy to admit that the man you love is capable of violence, but men with his training and his trauma -”

“What trauma?” You demanded. “You keep acting like he’s some psychopath.”

“What has Billy told you about his childhood?” She answered back with an air of smugness that had you wishing you could get out of bed and punch her.

“Everything,” you answered without hesitation, certain that you knew far more about Billy than she ever would.

“He told you about his shoulder? About Arthur Walsh?” The corner of her lip seemed to curl up ever so slightly. “He told you about the assault?”

“Yes,” you answered, not bothering to hold back your annoyance, “I know that he tried -”

“Tried? Is that what Billy told you?” you were speechless, your mind racing over the implications of her words. “Ask yourself this; why would a man like Billy, a man with an ego like his, ever admit to being hurt like that unless he was using that admission to distract from something worse. He wasn’t the only victim of Arthur Walsh, do you really think he was the only who was able to -”

“Even if that’s true, it’s not your place to tell me,” you snapped, not willing to sit there and listen to her trying to expose Billy over something that might never have happened, not when you knew that she wasn’t saying it to be helpful, she was trying to destroy Billy. “Why are you so obsessed with wanting him to be broken? He’s not going to go back to you, Krista.”

“I’ve seen hundreds of men like William, they all snap and hurt someone eventually. At least I know how to control a dangerous man like William.” She answered back.

“He’s not dangerous, and he didn’t do this to me. He’d never hurt me - you can tell the cops that.”

“Because he loves you?” Her professional facade almost dropped completely and you could hear the derision in her words. “I wonder, has he managed to say the words yet?”

“Get out!” You finally screamed, the monitor besides you along with your screaming was enough to alert a doctor to your distress. “Get the fuck out, Krista!” 

She was quickly removed from your room and you were given assurances that she wouldn’t be allowed to return. The doctor took the opportunity to check your injuries and give you something extra for the pain that helped you drift off to sleep again.

A couple of hours passed before you woke again, this time feeling a little sharper than before. There was a hand holding yours tight and, for a few moments, you assumed that it was Billy. But, as you opened your eyes, you realised that wasn’t the case.

“Sam?” Again, you found yourself reliving the hours after the crash and how you’d found him at your bedside, just like this.

“Hey,” he struggled for a moment, obviously not sure what to say to you, “how are you feeling? Do you need me to get you a doctor?”

“No, I - I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend called me.” You didn’t miss the clipped way he referred to Billy. “What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?”

You weren’t sure what it was about the moment, whether it was the worry on your brother’s face, the tremor in his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t seen him in over two years, but you found yourself bursting into floods of tears. You hated that this was how you were seeing him again, and how you felt so pathetic and useless because of it. It felt like he’d been proven right; that you couldn’t take care of yourself.

It was overwhelming and all you could do was sob at how out of control you felt.

“I’m sorry,” you told him as he tried to hold you without hurting you.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to apologise,” he muttered softly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”

It took a few minutes for you to calm down enough to speak properly but Sam didn’t pressure you to talk, dropping back to his chair and keeping a tight grip on your hand. As upsetting as the whole situation was, you were glad that he was there with you.

“I don’t know what happened,” you told him, sniffling back more tears, trying to control the tremor in your voice. “The cops think it was Billy - it wasn’t, he’d never hurt me.”

“I know,” Sam answered with an unexpected certainty. “It was Scott. That’s how I got here so fast; Billy let me know that Scott was in New York looking for you. The cops know he didn’t do it.”

If Billy knew that Scott had done this to you, and he knew he was in New York...

“Where is he?” You demanded, voice threatening to break. “Where’s Billy?”

“He’s fine. That’s all you need to know.” There was something in his voice you didn’t like. He knew what was going on but he was deliberately keeping it from you, trying to protect you by keeping you in the dark. “He’s on his way here now.”

“But -” there were so many questions, so many things that you needed to know, but your brother shushed you.

“Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to think about is resting, we’re taking care of everything.” Though his words did little to quell all of the panicked thoughts.

“I don’t want to stay here,” you told him suddenly. “I don’t like hospitals.”

“I know,” he sighed, squeezing your hand, “I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Just close your eyes and rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you soon found your eyes drifting shut again, exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that was happening, and the pain medication certainly wasn’t helping. Sam kept hold of your hand until you started to fall asleep again, drifting in and out of consciousness. 

You were half asleep when you heard Billy’s voice and you had to force your eyes open to make sure that he was really there and that you weren’t just dreaming it. The rough sound of Sam’s voice and the unmistakable sound of someone getting hit was enough to drag you out of your dream-like state. Your eyes opened in time to see Billy staggering backwards and frank stepping between him and your brother, trying to separate them.

“Guess I deserved that,” Billy grumbled, running a hand over his cheek.

“Damn right you do, you let this happen -”

“I was trying to keep her safe,” Billy spat back.

“Yeah, well, you did a shit job, didn’t you? She could’ve died, she -”

“Stop!” You interrupted, reminding everyone of your presence.

Whatever Billy might have wanted to say to Sam quickly died on his lips, and he moved to your side, taking your hand in his and leaning to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he muttered, his voice cracking, threatening to break.

“I won’t, I’m so sorry.” You told him, squeezing his hand as tight as you could, all but forgetting that there was anyone else in the room with you. 

Billy seemed to forget too, pulling the chair beside your bed closer so he could sit and keep hold of your hand, his entire attention focused on you. Frank muttered something to Sam and, reluctantly, your brother agreed to leave you alone with Billy for a little while. 

“What happened?” You dared to ask. “Last thing I remember, we were still in Mexico with Karen.”

“We had a stupid argument. You got upset with me, remember?” Billy sighed. There was a fuzzy memory in the back of your mind, a feeling of worry that you couldn’t quite place, but that was all. You shook your head. “You realised I was hiding something from you, but I didn’t want to tell you, so you left...”

“You knew about Scott,” and suddenly everything made sense.

“After that day at Anvil, I had one of our analysts start tracking him. When I found out he was heading to New York, I knew I couldn’t let you come home until we’d figured out a way to deal with him.”

“Deal with him?” You repeated as your stomach started to tie itself in knots. “Billy... what did you do?” Though you weren’t sure you wanted an answer.

He reached for you, gently brushing your hair away from your face as he let out a soft sigh. “I did what I had to,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep you safe, but I made sure he’ll never hurt you again.”

“Billy...” you didn’t dare ask for clarification, almost certain you knew exactly what he was confessing to. Maybe you should have felt more than you did in that moment but, honestly, all you felt was relief. He’d killed a man to keep you safe and you did feel safe, you felt safer than you had in years, like you could finally breathe.

“I couldn’t risk him ever hurting you again,” his gaze lowered and his head hung forward. You could tell he was scared of what you might be thinking.

Reaching for him, you softly cupped his bruised cheek, gently urging him to look at you but, when he did, you found yourself lost for words for a few moments. What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t thank him for killing someone, and it wasn’t your place to forgive him.

“It’s okay, Billy,” is what you settled on.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he admitted, your heart skipping a beat at the panic in his voice, hating how vulnerable he sounded.

“The doctors say I’m gonna be fine,” you tried to reassure him, not wanting him to linger on dark thoughts like that.

“I love you,” he all but blurted out like it might be his last chance. “I should’ve told you sooner, I should’ve told you months ago. I never would’ve forgiven myself if you’d died and I hadn’t -”

“I know,” you told him softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’ve always known, Billy. You never had to say it, you’ve always shown me how much you love me.” His relief was palpable as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, holding him in the kiss for a few, sweet moments, before you muttered against his lips; “can you stay with me a little while? I - I don’t like hospitals...”

“Sweetheart, nothing is going to make me leave your side,” he smiled, sitting back and softly stroking your hair with his free hand. 

It was enough to have you closing your eyes again. “I love you, Billy.”

“I love you too.”

When your eyes opened again, the room was mostly dark, save for the light that spilled in from the hallway. Billy was still with you, his head resting on folded arms on the edge of the bed, fast asleep. You couldn’t resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair, though you immediately felt guilty the moment he stirred. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered sleepily, not bothering to lift his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you told him, fingers still running through his hair. “You look tired.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll sleep when I get you home in a day or two,” he smiled up at you. 

The low light in the room almost hid the bruising on his cheek until he turned his head a little and you found yourself reaching for his cheek.

“This looks sore.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry about Sam,” you muttered, inspecting the damage.

“I deserved it. He was right, I should’ve done more to stop this,” he shrugged. 

You hated that he was making this all his fault, acting like there was anything he could have done to stop things, like he believed he should have been able to predict the future. But, you knew you weren’t going to change his mind, at least not while you were still laying in a hospital bed.

“What’s going to happen now?” Keeping your voice to little more than a whisper so you couldn’t be overheard.

“What d’you mean?” He asked, finally lifting his head a little.

“About... y’know, Scott...” you whispered, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Me and Frank took care of it, don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing bad is going to happen to you ever again, sweetheart, I promise.”

While his promise made you smile, you couldn’t help but shake your head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Billy.”

His hand moved, covering yours and holding it against his cheek. “I mean it. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe and happy. You’re mine, sweetheart, and I protect what’s mine.”

You fell silent again, letting your eyes close, his hand still on yours, just enjoying being with each other again. But there was something else in the back of your mind, a thought that wouldn’t go away now matter how much you wanted it to.

“Billy, Krista was here when I woke up,” opening your eyes, you watched for a response and noticed his shoulder tick upwards. 

“What did she want?”

“She tried to convince me that you were the one who shot me,” you told him. “I didn’t believe her, but then she...” you stopped, not sure you wanted to say anything. You didn’t want to ask him about it, didn’t want to put him on the spot. It wasn’t your place, just like it hadn’t been hers, but just thinking about it made your heart ache.

“What?” He gently prompted, even though you were certain he didn’t want to hear it.

“She said something about when you were a kid, when you were hurt...” you paused again and, this time, Billy didn’t prompt you to continue. The silence hung for a round thirty seconds while you decided what you wanted to say. “Whatever happened that day, I just - I want you to know that there’s nothing that could make me stop loving you.”

Billy stayed silent but you saw the way he awkwardly tried to swallow the lump in his throat. And there was something about his discomfort in that moment that helped you remember Mexico, the night you’d left his room. You remembered the argument about his panic attacks.

“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence. “I don’t want to be like Krista. I don’t want to treat you the way she did.”

“You don’t,” he shook his head, pressing your hand tighter against his cheek.

“Can you just promise me one thing?” 

“Anything,” he answered without hesitation.

“I don’t need to know what causes the panic attacks, I just need to know you’re okay,” you explained as delicately as you could. “So, can you promise me that if you’re ever not okay, you’ll let me know? You don’t even need to tell me why, I just need to know so I can be there for you.”

His answer wasn’t immediate and, for a moment, you could have sworn you saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

“I promise,” he all but whispered as he leaned in to kiss you again before muttering against your lips, “I love you so much.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

END NOTES :  I just want to say I loved the responses to last chapter, and I really hope this chapter lives up to the hype? It was weird trying to write Billy's POV from second person, but hopefully it didn't turn out too bad. IDK if people were expecting more from Billy confronting Scott but, ultimately I decided that Scott was a piece of shit and not worth Billy's time or effort - just in case anyone was wondering lmao.

Anyway, I'm not 100% sure yet but I think next week might actually be the last chapter of this story (or I might do one more chapter and a separate epilogue). But I'm honestly just so happy that people seem to have enjoyed reading this, and I'm so thankful for all the support and lovely messages I've received over the course of this story!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

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Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Three

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - the usual

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] The usual smuttiness and some very vague violence. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : Reader has a theory about why Billy followed her to Mexico...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Chapter Twenty-Three

After Billy’s arrival in Mexico, things took a strange turn and, for the longest time, you couldn’t say why. Once he’d made his apology to you on the balcony, you decided to go shower and give him some time to apologise to Karen for crashing your vacation. Billy was reluctant to leave you alone, presumably because he wanted to shower with you, so you had to all but force him out of your room, telling him that you’d meet him and Karen later, once he’d sorted everything out with her. 

When you were finally alone, you took a long shower, thinking over everything that had happened. And, the more you thought, the worse you felt about everything. 

Of course you were happy to see him - you didn’t think there would ever be a time when you wouldn’t be happy to see Billy - but there was something about him being there that just didn’t sit right with you. You felt like you should have pushed him for more, that you shouldn’t have just accepted his apology the way that you did.

Did he not trust you? Did he think you were going to fall into bed with someone else? Or did he think that being away from him would help you notice all the issues in your relationship, all of his issues? 

Ultimately, you weren’t sure. It didn’t make sense.

He’d put it down to impulse control issues - you should have called him on that, he knew that you hated him hiding behind that - and this definitely wasn’t that. This was planned; he’d booked a flight and a hotel room, he’d driven himself to the airport and gone through security and gotten on a plane. It wasn’t some spur of the moment lapse in judgement. 

The more you thought about it, the more convoluted everything became. Maybe he really was just there because he missed you and because he was worried. Maybe it was just that simple and innocent. But, as you’d told him, you felt smothered. And, now, it was making you feel out of control in a way you hadn’t felt since Scott.

You took your time getting ready to meet Billy and Karen, giving one word answers to texts, agreeing to meet them at seven for food and, even then, you were five minutes late.

They were already waiting for you and, from the looks of it, had been there for a while, with half-finished drinks in front of them. Karen smiled at you and Billy fell silent as you approached and took a seat.

“You’re happier than I was expecting you to be about all this,” you looked at Karen, trying to figure out why she was so accepting of Billy’s presence on your girls only vacation.

“Well, the way I see it, if he’s here,” she nodded towards Billy with a smirk, “he’s not pissing Frank off and it’ll give Frank some time to consider his priorities.”

“You know, you could just ask Frank to move in with you, right?”

“Wait-wait-wait,” Billy shook his head in disbelief, “you actually want to live with Frank? Why?” You slapped his arm and earned yourself one of those trademark Billy Russo smirks, as if he was so proud of his little joke. “Oh, this is perfect. Please, let me be the one to tell him?”

“Why would I do that?” Karen asked, obviously about as impressed with Billy as you were.

“Because he’s been on my ass for months about settling down, and turnabout is fair play?” Billy answered. 

“He’s been on your ass because you spent years fucking every woman in New York and, now that you’ve finally found one that’s willing to put up with you, Frank doesn’t want you to screw it up.” Karen answered back.

“I don’t know if I’d say I put up with him,” you tried your best to sound serious, barely biting back a smirk, and earning yourself a nudge beneath the table from Billy’s foot. You gave him a fond sort of smile and Karen gave a snort.

“Okay, if you two are going to start getting all lovey-dovey, I’m going to need a lot more to drink...” she joked, making a point of turning her attention to the menu while your gaze lingered on Billy.

It was always so easy to forget all your doubts and worries whenever he smiled at you like you were the only other person in the world but, now, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a deliberate action on his part to make you simply accept the fact that he was there. A suspicion that only seemed to grow when he pulled his phone from his pocket and he tried to suppress a frown, a look that you’d seen on his face several times while he and Frank had been looking for the security threat that had turned out to be the private investigator sent by your ex.

He was trying to hide something.

“What’s wrong?” You dared to ask, your imagination already starting to go to some pretty dark places.

“Nothing. It’s fine,” Billy answered, forcing a smile, his eyes flickering to Karen for a split-second. 

“Frank giving you a hard time?” Karen offered.

“Yeah,” Billy shrugged, like it was nothing.

You dropped your eyes to the menu, trying to decide if you were being paranoid or if there was something going on, something that they were trying to keep from you. It didn’t feel like paranoia but, for the life of you, you couldn’t even begin to guess what sort of thing the pair of them might be trying to keep from you. Except -

No. No. 

You felt ridiculous the moment the thought popped into your mind; Billy hadn’t followed you to Mexico to propose. That would be insane.

But, it would explain all the secrecy and weirdness.

Fuck. What would you even say if he did propose? You hadn’t even known him for half a year - you couldn’t marry a man you barely knew. But, you loved him and the thought of spending the rest of your life without him was unbearable. And you already knew that Billy wouldn’t take a rejection well - if you told him no it would probably end your relationship.

Once the thought was in your head, it was hard to shake it. So much so that you spent the rest of the evening thinking about it, equal parts excited and terrified even though you had no real evidence that that was why Billy was there. You tried your best to keep up with the conversation, but you were distracted, stuck on that one little idea.

After eating, the three of you headed to a little bar that overlooked the ocean but, still, your mind was elsewhere.

“This place is nice,” Billy said, letting his gaze wander out over the water before his attention turned back to you. “Maybe we could stay a little longer? Make a real vacation of it?”

“You know I can’t,” you told him, looking to Karen for support who was, conveniently busy looking at her phone. “I’ve got to sign my contract with The Bulletin and I need to finish packing up the apartment so I can move in.”

“I’m sure they could email you the contract over, and I could hire movers for you?”

“We can go on a proper vacation some other time, I can’t just drop everything and -” 

“Karen, you’re on my side, right? Don’t you think she needs a real vacation?” He looked at Karen and, for a moment, she seemed a little uncomfortable being dragged into your argument but then she shrugged and looked your way.

“You have had a pretty stressful couple of months,” was all she dared to offer, but it was more than enough to cement in your mind that there was something strange going on.

“Exactly,” Billy agreed.

Not wanting to argue in front of Karen, you let the conversation drop with little more than a shrug and muttered promise to consider it. You had another drink before deciding that you were tired and were calling it a night. Billy took that as his cue to finish his drink and, after the pair of you walked Karen back to her room, he led you to the suite he’d booked for himself.

The second the door was shut and you were alone, Billy had you in his arms, kissing you with an eagerness that never seemed to fade. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tight.

“You okay? You seemed a little quiet tonight,” he asked softly when the kiss finally broke, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear.

“I’m just tired,” you didn’t like lying to him but you weren’t sure what else to tell him, and you hated yourself even more when he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want to go sleep?” He asked you so tenderly that it made your heart ache, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. “We can just curl up in bed and -”

You cut him off, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulling his lips back to yours. As confused as you were by everything that was going on, it didn’t change how you felt about him, especially not in sweet and tender moments like that one. And it definitely didn’t change how much you wanted him. 

The kiss was all the sign Billy needed and, as you kissed, he awkwardly started to lead you through the suite and towards the massive bed while his deft fingers unzipped your dress and slid it down your body. Meanwhile, your own fingers clumsily helped rid him of his shirt.

A laugh slipped between your lips when he suddenly lifted you and practically threw you onto the bed in nothing but your underwear. You bit your lip, watching as his pants dropped and he crawled onto the bed, smiling that big stupid smirk that got you every single time. Moments like this were what you loved the most about being with him; his desperation gave away how much he wanted you, while his playfulness reminded you how no one else got to see this side of him.

Billy Russo was yours. Just yours.

(And, honestly, if he’d asked you to marry him at that moment, you would have agreed without hesitation.)

His lips pressed to your cheek as he climbed on top of you, kissing one side of your face, then the other. Then he kissed the tip of your nose, drawing a soft laugh from you, and his eyes seemed to darken at the sound. Finally, he kissed you again, parting your lips with one stroke of his tongue. It was a slow, teasing kiss, the kind that left you breathless and craving more, craving everything. 

Everything moved at Billy’s pace, even when your fingers started to press into his back, urging him on. He lingered against your lips like he was trying to commit every little detail to memory before moving on. His lips followed your jaw neck before slowly moving down the column of your throat, kissing and licking before scraping his teeth along your skin causing you to squirm beneath him.

Down, down, down, he went, and you knew exactly where this was heading. He always made such an event of going down on you, as if he enjoyed it just as much as you. Kisses trailed down over your collarbone to your chest where, following a few awkward movements and a little more laughter from you, Billy removed your bra. Again, he took his time, enjoying running his lips and tongue over your breasts, teasing your nipples, causing them to pebble. His eyes flickered up to see yours as he started to suck on one of the hardened peaks and you heard a low groan from the back of his throat, a sound that seemed to resonate between your thighs.

Then he moved again, his kisses following the faint scar that ran down your stomach, his fingers hooking on your panties. He gave you another look as he trailed his tongue around your navel, making you squirm again, getting more and more desperate for him with every passing second.

Without warning, he tore your panties from your  body.

“Billy,” you whined, barely holding back a laugh, “you need to stop destroying all my panties.”

“Maybe you should just stop wearing them,” he smirked.

Your lips parted, ready to offer some withering retort but, before you could get the words out, his hand slipped between your thighs and he finally touched you. Instead of words, a soft sigh left your lips.

His touch was featherlight, the tip of his finger running through your folds and finding you desperately wet for him. Billy looked at you again, watching your every reaction as his finger slowly teased you, coating it in your slickness before, just as softly, pressing it to your clit.

“Billy -” you said his name like a plea, like you were begging, praying for him to do more, “- please...”

The way he licked his lips caused you to tremble, your whole body seeming to heat up just from that one little gesture. And, while you were distracted by his mouth, he took the opportunity to slide his finger into your eager pussy. A moan slipped out, your eyes still stuck on his, watching as he finally lowered his head between your thighs.

By the time you felt his tongue against you, you were so sensitive that you couldn’t hold back another, louder moan. Fingers slipped through his hair, urging him closer, wanting him to devour you. But still, he moved slowly and purposefully, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

A second finger joined the first, offering you some slight relief, but it was nowhere near enough. He was driving you crazy, completely insane. His tongue circled and lapped against your clit in time with the slow thrust of his fingers between your trembling walls, as you pulled his hair and tried to grind yourself against him.

“Billy...” you finally broke, your voice an awkward whimper.

He lifted his head and your breath caught at the sight of his lips, glistening with your arousal. For a moment he waited expectantly, his fingers still keeping their slow pace.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked as innocently as he could while holding back a smirk.

“Stop teasing me,” you begged.

“But it’s so much fun,” he answered back, causing your toes to curl. Reaching behind you, you grabbed a pillow and swung it at him, catching him on the side of the head and earning a laugh from him that had you grinning. God, you loved him so much. “Alright, fine... always so needy for me...”

He grumbled and pretended to complain for a second before lowering his head and pressing his mouth to your again, his touches and movements quickly becoming more pronounced, so much so that you weren’t sure how long you’d even last. Your hips lifted off the bed and your fingers fisted his hair tighter the closer you got to falling apart. Every breath you took was punctuated with a moan, with his name. Until, finally, you came on his fingers, against his greedy tongue, your thighs trembling and tightening around his head.

Once he was sure you were completely finished, Billy lifted his head and slowly slipped his fingers from your body, the grin on his lips telling you that he was proud of himself. For a moment you found yourself just staring at him, at his smug smile, before dropping your head back on the pillows and starting to laugh.

That seemed to be Billy’s cue to move back up the bed, laying himself beside you.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his lips, “I just love seeing you happy like that.”

“You make me happy,” he told you, making it seem like some secret confession, some dangerous piece of information. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course you do,” his lips kissed your thumb and, again, you found yourself thinking that thought, wondering why he was really in Mexico. After this little moment, a marriage proposal didn’t seem quite so crazy anymore.

“Bet I can make you happier,” you muttered softly, urging him onto his back as you crawled on top of him.

You slipped his boxers down enough so that you could sit with his erection between your thighs, lightly running your hand up and down it, and watching his reaction. You’d never get tired of watching his gaze fill with that barely contained wanting or the way his lips would part as his breath got shorter.

“Now who’s being a tease?” He finally broke, his hands on your legs, lightly squeezing your thighs.

“Now who’s being needy?” You retorted.

Billy didn’t respond, save for a huffed laugh, but it was more than enough to make you move. You held his cock steady as you lifted your hips, your gaze catching his, watching as his eyes slowly dropped down your body to watch as you sank down onto him. Your breath caught and you moved as slowly as you could, enjoying the feeling of every last inch of him inside you.

Once you’d taken him all, you rolled your hips softly and managed to draw a desperate groan from Billy, and you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your movements were slow and delicate as you took his hands and placed them on your breasts, intent on teasing him until he broke and begged for mercy, just like you had.

Minutes passed, and you could tell just from looking at him that he was barely holding himself back, that he wanted more than the slow rise and fall of your body atop of him.

Your back arched and a shiver ran down your spine when his hands slid down your body, from your breasts to your hips. His fingers gripped you and, for a moment, you let him help guide your movements, setting a faster pace. You let him take what he wanted, let him take control. Until you realised that he was doing it, until you realised that he was taking what he wanted rather than begging for it like you’d had to.

Smirking down at him, you took hold of his wrists and pinned them above his head before returning to your slower, more teasing pace. 

Leaning down, you ghosted your lips over his, pulling back when he lifted his head to try and kiss you. He pulled against your hold on him, and you pressed harder against his wrists in response, trying to keep him restrained. You leaned again, doing the same, earning a frustrated grunt from Billy when you denied him what he wanted. He struggled again, this time with a little more force, forcing you to use all of your weight to keep hold of him.

And, that’s when you heard it; that sharp little gasp, that almost panicked sound.

There was a flicker of something on his face, something that matched the awkward breath, something uncomfortable and anxious, something that almost looked scared.

You let go of his wrists instantly and Billy took the opportunity to roll you and place himself on top and in control of the situation. Looking up at him, you wanted to say something, wanted to ask if he was okay but, before you could find the words, he was kissing you and driving his hips into yours, taking what he needed from you.

Neither of you lasted more than a couple of minutes. You came first and Billy followed after, leaving you body panting and sweat-slicked. He buried his face against your neck, panting for breath while you could still feel him throbbing inside you. Your fingers ran through his damp hair, your mind still racing over that moment, that one small instance of panic that you’d managed to cause.

“You okay?” You finally managed to mutter, your words little more than a whisper in his ear.

For less than a split-second he tensed, then rolled away from you. “I need a shower. Wanna join me?”

“No, Billy, I -”

“Alright then,” and, with that, he stood and made his way to the bathroom, leaving the door open in case you decided to change your mind.

You didn’t change your mind. In fact, for the first thirty seconds, you were content to just lay in bed, thinking about sleep. But that thought was still in your head, and you had to know for certain. So, as quietly as you could, you got up and started to look through his things, trying to find something that might tell you why he was in Mexico. (Trying to find an engagement ring.)

Over the sound of the air con, you didn’t notice that the shower had stopped. And you didn’t notice Billy standing there until he spoke, catching you rummaging through his suitcase.

“What are you doing?” He asked from the bathroom doorway, a towel around his waist, chest and arms still dripping.

“I was -” you paused awkwardly, feeling your cheeks start to warm, “- looking for something to sleep in.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he stepped towards you, pointing out a tee shirt that had been left on the nightstand of your side of the bed. Thankfully, he didn't sound angry, just confused. “What were you really looking for?”

“It’s stupid,” you sighed. “I was being stupid.”

“Tell me,” he stopped just out of arm's reach, taking in the sight of you, of your embarrassment.

“I was looking for an engagement ring,” your gaze dropped and you felt like such an idiot.

“An engagement ring?” Billy repeated. “Why would you think -” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Is that what you want from me?”

Was it? No. Well, maybe yes but - fuck, you hadn’t even known him a year, you weren’t even living together yet. 

“No, that’s not - I just want to know what’s going on. I don’t know what’s going on with you,” frustration filled your voice. “First you show up here, and then -”

“I told you already, I came to Mexico because I was missing you. There’s nothing going on with me.” He interrupted. 

“Then what was that in bed?” you dared to ask, even though something told you that you shouldn’t.

“What was what?” And you could tell he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You looked like you were about to have a panic attack in the middle of sex, Billy.” You put it as bluntly as you could, knowing that it would do neither of you any good if you dragged things out.

“That’s not what that was and that’s not what we’re talking about right now.”

“You never want to talk about it.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about,” his arms folded across his chest.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” You asked, hating to make it about yourself, but the realisation hurt too much to keep it to yourself.

“It’s not that. Sweetheart, I trust you, it’s just...” he couldn’t seem to find the words. You gave him a moment, gave him a second to think, to breathe. “It’s complicated. It doesn’t matter.”

“I can handle complicated, Billy. My life isn’t exactly simple, is it?”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” and the words hit you like a slap, the implication clear as day.

“Is that what I am to you? A burden?” 

His eyes found yours the moment the question left your lips, his head shaking. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what, Billy? I just want to understand,” you practically pleaded with him. “I love you and it kills me to see you like that - it kills me to know that I’m the one causing it.”

“No, sweetheart, no,” he cleared the distance between you in a heartbeat, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s not you. I promise it’s not you. I’m just - I’m still figuring out how to be who you need me to be.”

You pulled back a little, needing to look at him, confusion written all over your face. “I don’t need you to be anything, Billy. I just want you to be you, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“You don’t even know what you need,” he answered back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You were just searching through my things looking for an engagement ring.”

Your cheeks started to heat again and you felt like an idiot. He was right - at least, you could understand how you might have made him feel. But that wasn’t the point. He kept hiding things from you. There was something going on and you knew it, but he still wouldn’t tell you what. And what had happened in bed just added to your confusion.

Your lack of response had Billy sighing, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a hand over his face. He looked exhausted, and that was something else you blamed yourself for.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” He offered and it seemed like the sensible thing to do.

You were both clearly tired and nerves were frayed, continuing the conversation now would only result in someone saying something that they didn’t mean and you didn’t want that.

“Okay,” you relented but, instead of moving towards the bed, you made your way to where your dress had been discarded and started to pull it back on.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m going to go back to my room -”

“Why?”

“I just need some space, Billy,” you explained, turning back to him once you were, mostly, dressed again.

“So you’re walking out on me?” He didn’t move from the bed but the look on his face made your chest ache.

“No, that’s not what this is,” you cleared the distance between you and placed a hand on his cheek. “I just need some time to think about some things and - and I think you do too.”

“I don’t need to think about anything. I know what I want,” he told you, his hand covering your own and holding it against his cheek.

“Then you need to think about why you’re here and why you won’t explain it to me,” trying to keep the frustration from your voice. “I know you missed me but this isn’t that, Billy. You’ve survived a few days without me before.”

“It’s not important, it’s -”

“It’s important to me, Billy, and maybe you need to think about that too.” Before he could respond, your hand moved to cover his lips and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not walking out, I’m not leaving you, but I do need some time alone. But I will come back to you. I’ll always come back because I love you, okay?”

The hesitation was noticeable before he finally nodded and you pulled your hand away from his lips.

“You look exhausted, Billy. Get some sleep.” Then you turned and started towards the door before he could think to try and stop you.

You heard a muttered goodnight from him as you closed the door behind you. A thousand different emotions waged war inside you and, by the time you reached your own room, you didn’t know what you were feeling anymore; embarrassment, frustration, anger, sadness. Billy had managed to make you feel almost everything all at once.

There was no chance of sleep that night, not when all you could do was think about everything that had happened and the fact that you still didn’t understand why he’d needed to follow you to Mexico. Eventually, you mind settled on something that you’d said to him - you needed space.

That was what this vacation was supposed to be in the first place; space, some distance from Billy so you could think. But, since you couldn’t have that space here in Mexico, you decided that you might as well try to find it back in New York. 

You checked the flight times and arranged a taxi to the airport, trading in your ticket for an earlier flight. But, you knew you couldn’t just leave without saying anything, so you wrote Billy a note and asked a maid to slide it under his door a couple of hours later.

Billy,I’m going back to New York. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first, but I need some space. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get home and I’ll be ready to move in with you. I’m not leaving you, I just need a little bit of time on my own. I love you so much, please don’t worry about me. Tell Karen I said sorry.

You turned off your phone and, before you knew it, you were on a flight back to New York. Of course, you knew he was going to be pissed but you needed him to understand that you felt smothered, like you had no space - you needed him to understand that before you moved in together.

The flight was uneventful and you even managed to sleep for a few hours, and the taxi ride home was quick. You didn’t think to turn your phone back on until you were back in yours and Tammy’s apartment, ready to crawl into bed for a few more hours of sleep before getting up and making a start on the packing. There were dozens of missed calls waiting for you, along with texts and voicemails, all seeming increasingly frantic.

With a sigh, you hit play on the first voicemail.

“Don’t go back to New York,” Billy’s voice sounded panicked, worried even, “I’m sorry, I’ll tell you everything. Please, just come back to the hotel.”

The next was from Karen and it was much of the same, confirming your suspicions that she knew why Billy was really in Mexico.

As the next message started to play, there was a knock on the door. Given the early hour, you assumed it would be a delivery for Tammy, so you headed towards the door as the next message started to play.

“Sweetheart, please, you can’t go back to New York, it’s not safe,” but the warning came far too late.

You pulled the door open and, before you could think to even gasp in shock, a gunshot rang out.

Everything went black.

Chapter Twenty-Four

END NOTES :  ... sorry. I know... I know... i hate the 'everything went black' ending too. But yeah... I don't even know, I just hope you're all enjoying the drama. Anyway, thanks for stopping by and reading, I appreciate you all so much!! Hope you have a wonderful day!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

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@bunnygirlwriter876 of course! I'll get you added to the taglist for the next chapter 🥰🥰

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Two

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - the usual

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing major, slightly public smuttiness. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.9k

A/N : Reader and Karen go on vacation! What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Chapter Twenty-Two

You’d dared to hope that Billy was fine with the idea of you going on a long weekend to Mexico without him but, as the day of your flight approached, you started to realise that he might not be. He’d started with little comments about how you’d have more fun if he went with you, about how you’d miss sleeping beside him - and, of course, you saw right through how he was trying to make it about how you would be the one missing him and not the other way around.

It was nice to begin with, it felt harmless and it made you feel loved.

But after the third time he’d managed to pull you into bed on the morning of your flight, it was starting to feel like it was getting out of hand.

You moaned and writhed on top of him, riding him fast and hard, your hands on his chest, fingertips pressing into his skin. And looked up at you as desperate as you’d ever seen him, his hands on your hips helping your movements. Karen was picking you up in less than half an hour, but all you could think about was Billy and how good he felt inside you. His hands found your breasts, fingers lightly pinching your hard nipples causing you to groan.

“You’re mine,” he grunted beneath you, for what must have been the thirtieth time that morning.

You’d tried to resist at first, tried to playfully shove him away as you packed your luggage which had resulted in something of a wrestling match that ended with him pulling your clothes off and pinning you to the bed for twenty minutes.

The second time had happened in the bathroom, while you’d been trying to pack your toiletries while he was finishing up in the shower. It was a blur how that one had happened, but it had started with you asking him to hand you your shampoo and had ended with you perched on the bathroom counter, with Billy’s cock driving into you hard enough that you almost saw stars.

The third time, this time, was more your fault; you’d decided to kiss him while grabbing some underwear to pack from the nightstand on your side of the bed while he was lounging in nothing but a towel, and one thing had led to another. 

He pulled you down into a desperate kiss as he came, holding you tight before confirming all your suspicions.

“I don’t want you to go,” he muttered against your lips.

“Billy,” you sighed, softly running your fingers through his hair as you looked down at him, “I’ll only be gone for four nights.”

“I know...”

He didn’t come out and say it directly; that he’d miss you, that he didn’t want to spend those four nights apart, as if some part of him was worried you might never come back to him. And you didn’t push. All you could do was hope that a few days apart would help him realise that you’d always come back.

After a moment, you moved, climbing out of bed to continue packing, while Billy just stayed there, watching your every move.

“Anyway,” you started again as you started folding clothes, “when I get back, I’ll be able to  finish packing up my apartment and moving in here. Then you’ll have me here all the time.” 

Billy was silent for a moment. “I could take you on vacation, if you really want to go away for a while.” 

“Billy -” you stopped the moment you heard the sharp tone in your voice and took a breath. “I’ll FaceTime you every morning and every night before I go to bed, okay? And I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, finally getting out of bed and starting to get dressed, “just... don’t make me worry about you.”

You paused, frowning for a second, not really sure why he’d worry about you. Did he not trust you? Did he not think that you could look after yourself? Shaking your head, you decided not to ask. Nothing was going to happen, you were just going to have fun relaxing in the sun with Karen and, when you got home, you’d have proven that whatever Billy was worrying about was silly.

Karen arrived on time and, thanks to Billy’s distractions, you were still rushing around trying to make sure you had everything that you needed. Once you were ready, Billy took your suitcase and escorted you down to the lobby. Karen smirked at the sight of the pair of you but, thankfully didn’t say anything. She stood by and waited patiently as Billy kissed you and told you to let him know when you landed and when you got to the hotel.

“Look after her,” he told Karen as you finally managed to pull yourself from his arms, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Of course I will,” Karen laughed, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards the door, knowing that you weren’t going to get anywhere without a little intervention.

Billy watched as you left, lingering in the lobby even as you got into Karen’s car, giving a sad little wave as Karen started the car and pulled away from the curb. 

“I don’t know what you did, but I think you’ve broken him,” Karen laughed, noticing the way you were glancing back at his building as she drove away. 

“He’s just... worried,” you shrugged.

“About?” 

“I’m not sure.”

Karen didn’t want to seem to linger on the subject of Billy, and she soon got you talking about how everything was ready at The Bulletin to start work and that you’d need to go sign the paperwork once you were back from Mexico. And, after everything that had happened over the last few months, you found yourself feeling happy, excited. Everything in your life felt amazing, like nothing else could possibly go wrong.

The trip to the airport was uneventful, you got there with enough time to grab a drink at the bar before boarding your flight and, once you were onboard, you had another glass of wine before losing yourself in your book for a few hours. Karen, on the other hand, spent most of the flight on her laptop, finishing up a story so she could send it the moment you got to the hotel. 

It felt like all it took was the blink of an eye to transport you from cold, dreary New York to warm and (mostly) sunny Cancun. There were storm clouds on the horizon but your taxi driver assured you that the rain never lasted too long on the coast. 

Once you arrived at the hotel, you found your rooms, and your vacation began.

You spent what was left of the day drinking Mai Tai’s on the beach before going for food. And, all the while, your phone kept lighting up with texts from Billy.

“I never thought I’d see the day when someone managed to turn Billy Russo into a lost puppy,” Karen joked over dinner.

“He’s normally not this bad,” you tried to explain, but it was clear that Karen didn’t believe a word of it. “He’s just - I dunno, complicated.”

“Speaking of complicated,” she started and you hated the way she let the word hang before finishing the question, “what really happened with you two that day at Anvil?”

Despite being your rock through the whole ordeal, Karen hadn’t asked, she’d given you time and space. She’d let you stay with her and had stepped up to help you with your photography show and hadn’t once tried to pry.

You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, trying to decide what to tell her. Despite that little voice in your head  that wanted to convince you that no one could now and that telling her would change everything, it didn’t feel right to keep lying and hiding things. Besides, Billy’s reaction to your past had left you feeling bolder, stronger; he’d made you feel like maybe it wasn’t all your fault.

Karen stayed silent while you reached a decision and, finally, you told her everything.

She sat, barely moving save to lift her drink, listening to the whole sorry story about you and Scott, about your sister, and about how you’d needed to get away from Florida. You told her about the PI and the file he’d had on you, and why he was looking for you. And, when you were done, the silence lingered for a few awkward moments.

“Holy shit,” she breathed out. “That’s - I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” You shook your head, not really wanting any sympathy for it. “And Billy knows all of that now?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I think that’s why he’s been a bit - y’know, a bit much lately.”

“I mean, I guess I get it? You’re the first serious relationship he’s had since Krista, so knowing that your asshole ex-boyfriend is looking for you is probably making him feel a little out of control.” She took a drink, giving you a second to ponder that thought. It wasn’t something you’d thought about, but it made sense. “Frank says he hasn’t quite been the same since...”

She paused. No, she hesitated, eyeing you like she wasn’t sure if you knew about Billy and Frank yet.

“Billy told me what he did,” you offered. “He blames himself for it, says he can’t even trust himself anymore...”

“He made a stupid choice, but what almost happened to Frank wasn’t on Billy. But, ever since then, Frank says something hasn’t been right.”

“He loves Frank like a brother, I think it just gets to him that he almost lost someone who means so much to him,” you offered.

“Like you,” Karen stated, “it sounds like he’s worried that he’s going to lose you.”

It was a heavy thought, but you weren’t really sure that you could do anything about it. At least, not from Mexico. 

You had a few more drinks before calling it a night. And, once you were alone in your room, and comfortable in bed, you FaceTimed Billy just like you promised you would. He kept you on the call for almost an hour just talking to you about everything and nothing, sounding like he hadn’t had anyone to talk to all day, and it made your heart almost ache to see him that way. His face lit up when you told him you loved him and that you missed him.

And, as promised, you called him again first thing the following morning; he was already at Anvil, sitting behind his desk and looking annoyed from his first morning meeting. The conversation was short and sweet because you wanted breakfast and he was meeting with a client.

Over breakfast you and Karen decided that, from that point on, there would be no more mentions of Billy and Frank, and that you were just going to enjoy your vacation without thinking about New York.

The day was spent at the beach, relaxing and drinking, while Karen filled you in on what to expect when you started working at the Bulletin. She had a story for pretty much everyone that worked there; she told you who to avoid and whose good side to get on. Then, while she sat and read, you decided to take a walk along the beach with your camera.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so relaxed, even if your phone seemed to buzz with a new message from Billy every few minutes. On your walk you sent him some photos of the beach, of you, and of some of the wildlife you encountered. Daring to text wish you were here.

The day ended the same as the last; with dinner and drinks. There was more talking about The Bulletin and, after a few cocktails, Karen filled you in on some of the office gossip before breaking her own rule and turning the conversation to Frank.

“I’m waiting for him to ask me to move in with him,” she said with a sigh, “with what he makes at Anvil and what I make at The Bulletin, we could afford a really nice place... I feel like I’m getting too old to be having sleepovers with my boyfriend.”

You let out a laugh. “Have you tried telling him?”

“I’ve been dropping hints for months and he’s just oblivious.”

You spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking, losing track of time. It was well past midnight when you finally called Billy, and you were more than a little bit tipsy. He stayed on FaceTime with you until you fell asleep on the call. When you woke, you had a text telling you he had meetings all morning and not to call but that he’d text you as soon as he was free. So, you went to meet Karen for breakfast (and she was also feeling a little worse for wear after the night before).

It wasn’t long before you were sitting on the beach again, both quietly enjoying the sun and sipping Mai Tais, your blue cover-up catching in the breeze every time you moved. It wasn’t until one in the afternoon that you finally heard from Billy.

How’s it going? You having fun? Are you and Karen behaving?

You couldn’t help but smile at the message, missing him.

We’ve been having sex on the beach all day. 

Grinning to yourself at your silly little joke, you could just picture Billy’s face as he read it; that unamused eye roll that he did whenever you made a terrible joke.

Funny. I always saw you as more of a Mai Tai sort of girl.

You read the message, then re-read it, trying to remember if you’d ever had cocktails with Billy before. You hadn’t. In fact, you didn’t think you’d ever mentioned them before. It must have been a lucky guess. Before you could reply, your phone buzzed with another message.

What are you wearing?

Your eyes rolled. Of course Billy wanted to know that.

A red bikini with a thong. It’s very sexy.

Was he at work thinking about you in a bikini, you wondered. (No, you hoped he was at work, struggling to focus because he was too busy thinking about you.)

Really? I’m picturing you in a black bikini with a blue long sleeve cover-up and an adorable straw sun hat.

You sat up suddenly, almost spilling your drink, looking at Karen, wondering if she’d been talking to Billy. It took her a moment to open her eyes and realise that you were staring.

“What -” she stopped, her eyes rolling. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

When you turned and saw him standing there, you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at him, so you did neither. Instead you were just frozen for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing.

“Billy, what are you -” you stopped mid-question, not sure you even wanted to hear his reasoning for whatever this was.

“I think I’m going to -” Karen was already half out of her seat, trying to escape the awkwardness of the situation and the argument she sensed was coming.

“No,” you told her suddenly, getting to your feet. “You stay here. We need to talk in private.”

For a second Billy looked ready to say something but he clearly thought better of it when he noticed how you were looking at him. You didn’t even have to ask him to follow you when you turned and headed towards your room. He stayed silent as he walked behind you but, even though you weren’t looking at him, you could tell he was eager to say something.

You practically stormed into your room and waited until you heard the door shut behind him before. You didn’t say a word, you just waited expectantly.

“So, I take it you’re not happy to see me?”

“What are you doing here, Billy?” You sighed, not sure exactly how he’d been expecting you to react. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could start; “and don’t say it’s because you missed me. I’ve only been gone two days.”

His mouth shut and he took a few seconds to think. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You leaned back against the dresser, watching him as he dared to step closer. It felt like there was something else there, some other meaning to his words that you didn’t quite understand. Did he think you were completely incapable of looking after yourself, or was this his abandonment issues playing up again.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You finally asked. “It’s not like I’m here on my own, Billy.”

“I know, I just don’t trust anyone else to look after you,” he confessed, stepping closer, the distance between you shrinking to nothing. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you...”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” you tried to tell him, most of the anger draining from you when you saw the uncomfortable look on his face. “If we’re gonna be together, you can’t keep smothering me.”

“Smothering you?” Billy repeated, the words obviously cutting deep. “That’s not -”

“It’s what it feels like.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you feel that way,” he tried, obviously not sure what he wanted to say to you.

“That’s not an apology,” though some part of you understood that he hadn’t meant it that way, you weren’t going to let him feel like you were the one being unreasonable. “Look, I know that this is hard for you but I need you to understand that sometimes I’m gonna need some space, but just because I want some time apart doesn’t mean that I’m not coming back.”

He stayed silent for a moment, taking a breath and looking like he was weighing up his options. Still, somehow, you felt like there was more to this than he was letting on, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to tell you whatever it was.

“Okay,” Billy relented, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here and I know I can’t expect you to stay with me all the time.”

“Then why are you here?”

Billy shrugged. “Poor impulse control - I didn’t stop to think about it, I just wanted to see you.” He stepped a little closer, his hand finding your cheek. Hesitating a second, he waited to see if you’d pull away from him and, when you didn’t, he leaned in and kissed you softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your vacation.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” you sighed, “but you’re definitely gonna have to apologise to Karen for turning up uninvited.”

“I will,” he answered before pressing his lips to yours again.

You stayed like that for a few moments, trading sweet little kisses, enjoying the fact that he was there, despite the lingering feelings of annoyance. Then his hand dropped to yours, fingers lacing with yours as he led you out onto the balcony.

“Wow, look at that view,” he muttered, his eyes on the beach and ocean below.

You both fell silent for a few minutes, enjoying the scenery and the sounds of waves lapping against the beach.

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted quietly. “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t miss you when we’re not together, but I need you to understand that you can’t do anything like this again.”

Billy let out a slow breath and nodded.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I just... I want you to know that anything I do, even if it pisses you off, it’s because I care about you.”

“I know, Billy, but -” you cut yourself off when he moved to stand behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him.

The familiar press of his cock against your ass had you sighing. Brushing your hair aside, he started to trail kisses along your neck and then, as relieved you of your cover-up, along your shoulders. His other hand slowly moved down your stomach and, by the time his fingers slipped into your bikini bottoms, you were pressing back against him, giving in to him. As annoyed as you were, you’d missed him and you couldn’t help but give into him.

His fingers slipped lower and your thighs eagerly parted for him, desperate for his touch after two nights without it. The press of his fingertips against your clit destroyed the last of your willpower and you soon felt that familiar slickness between your folds. A soft moan escaped you, your hand reaching behind and tangling in his hair, ensuring his lips continued to trail kisses against your neck, while your other hand moved to grip the balcony railing.

“So wet,” he muttered, kissing the skin just behind your ear, his voice low, barely contained. “You must have really missed me, sweetheart. Have you been lonely without me?”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely holding back a moan as he plunged a finger into your trembling body.  

Your gaze dropped to the beach below, to all the people on their sun loungers who were completely unaware of what was happening above them. It was enough to cause your cheeks to heat, thinking about how one little sound could expose you to everyone on the beach, including Karen.

And Billy seemed to realise exactly what was running through your mind, and he almost caught you by surprise when he pressed a second finger into you. Biting your lip, you managed to stifle your moan, but only just. 

“Billy, please -” you begged, grinding yourself back against him. You needed more; more of him, more of everything. Even though it had only been two days, you needed more than his fingers, you needed all of him.

Fortunately, Billy was just as desperate and, if you’d been able to see his face, you would have known that he was barely holding himself back. The hand between your thighs pulled back, leaving you feeling wet and empty. He peeled your bikini bottoms down and let them fall to your ankles, and you licked your lips as you heard the zip of his pants and the sound they made hitting the floor, thanks to the phone in his pocket. Your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him  against you, loving the sound of his eager, panted breaths by your ear.

Teeth sank deeper into your lip, barely holding back another moan as you felt the ridge of his cock slip through your folds, teasing you, coating his shaft in your wetness. The swollen tip of his cock pressed against your clit, making you squirm against him. 

As much as he wanted you, it quickly became clear that he wanted you to keep begging for him. At first, you tried to deny him, but his fingers had left you primed and desperate for him, eager for him to claim you.

“Fuck me, Billy. Please.” You finally broke.

His cock pitched inside you so suddenly, filling you so quickly that you let a cry spill out, but he didn’t give you time to think about the people on the beach below, or anyone else around who might have heard. Billy let out a groan of his own as he seated himself inside you, revelling in the feeling of your slick walls hugging him tight. You were so overwhelmed that you needed a moment to compose yourself, to make sure you didn’t start screaming his name.

Billy didn’t give you that.

One of his hands covered yours on the rail, while the other found your hip to hold you steady while his hips slowly pulled back then quickly snapped forwards, again and again. You whimpered desperately, trying to stay quiet, but that didn’t stop you from pressing back against him, meeting each thrust halfway.

He groaned against your skin as his lips moved along your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving telltale marks in his wake.

“This needy little pussy is mine,” he told you in a low growl, teeth scraping against your neck. “Two days and it’s already desperate for me, gripping me so tight...”

You’d missed his filthy mouth almost as much as you’d missed him. And, just like that, everything was Billy and nothing else mattered.

He pulled back, almost slipping from you completely before driving forwards again, so roughly that your legs nearly buckled beneath you. Your fingers slipped from his hair to join the other hand on the railing, bracing yourself, wanting him to do his worst. Your insides thrummed with pleasure as he fucked you, your pussy fluttering around his cock every time he filled you, pushing you closer and closer to breaking point. 

You came with a whimper, somehow managing to choke back the scream that he so desperately wanted to rip from you. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and your whole body shook, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. 

“You get so fucking wet when you come,” Billy grunted, his teeth nipping at your neck again. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re not done yet.”

There was no stopping, no slowing down, even as you tried to pull away, too sensitive and over stimulated as your orgasm continued to shake your body. But his grip on your hip held you in place, his whole arm moving around your waist when you continued to try and squirm away. And, all the while, he kept driving his cock into you, from tip to hilt, every hard inch.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the railing, knees trembling beneath you. When it almost became too much, Billy hand moved from yours and settled on your back, urging you forwards so you were almost bent over the railing. Suddenly you could see the whole beach and it made it feel all the more dangerous, like there was no way you wouldn’t be caught. But you still didn’t want him to stop.

“Fuck, Billy,” you moaned as softly as you could, back arching, ass pressing back to try and meet his thrusts, “you’re so deep...”

“Want me to come for you?” He leaned down to pant in your ear. 

“Yes,” you groaned with unabashed desperation. “Come inside me, please…”

“Not until you come for me again,” he told you with a breathless laugh. “You don’t get my cum until this needy little pussy begs for it.”

A whimper spilled from your lips, not sure you could come again after the climax he’d already dragged from you, but what was the alternative? You knew now that Billy could keep going, that he’d fuck you senseless for hours if you let him. Letting one hand slip from the railing, you quickly found your swollen clit and started to circle it with your fingers. 

His pace quickened, thrusts turning short and shallow, only fucking the deepest parts of you, letting out a low groan when he realised what you were doing with your fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” his lips brushed against your ears as he muttered, his breath catching as he felt you start to tighten around him, continuing to fuck you as you got closer and closer to the edge again.

Suddenly, his fingers gripping your hair, pulling back your head so you could see his face.

“I want to see your face when you come for me,” he all but demanded, the commanding tone of his voice earning a moan from you. And you did as he wanted, keeping your eyes on his as he kept fucking you and your fingers kept pushing you to your breaking point.

He broke when you did, spilling hot inside you as your walls started to convulse around him. With a couple more thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, remaining there while he emptied himself, giving you everything you’d begged for and more. You stayed where you were, legs too weak to even think about trying to move. Billy leaned forwards, placing his chin on your shoulder and looking down at the beach and, out of the corner of his eye, you could see he was grinning.

“I wonder if any of them know what we just did.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to remember that you were still supposed to be annoyed with him, but it was impossible when you could still feel his cock gently pulsing inside of you. His lips soon moved back to your neck, this time trailing soft and tender kisses along your skin.

“You know, you can’t just fuck me every time you annoy me, right?” It was half-serious, half-joke, as you rested your head against his.

“Why not?” Billy asked. “Seems to be working pretty well so far.”

As much as you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, you are. I guess I’m stuck with you then?” Billy gave a hum and a nod in response. “Fine, but you’re still gonna have to explain to Karen why you’re crashing our girls-only vacation.”

He let out a sigh. “Fine, but I'm gonna need one of those Mai Tais first...”

END NOTES :  I feel like it was obvious that he was going to turn up but I hope it shocked at least a couple of you lmao.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed this one! Have a lovely weekend!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-Two

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - the usual

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing major, slightly public smuttiness. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.9k

A/N : Reader and Karen go on vacation! What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Chapter Twenty-Two

You’d dared to hope that Billy was fine with the idea of you going on a long weekend to Mexico without him but, as the day of your flight approached, you started to realise that he might not be. He’d started with little comments about how you’d have more fun if he went with you, about how you’d miss sleeping beside him - and, of course, you saw right through how he was trying to make it about how you would be the one missing him and not the other way around.

It was nice to begin with, it felt harmless and it made you feel loved.

But after the third time he’d managed to pull you into bed on the morning of your flight, it was starting to feel like it was getting out of hand.

You moaned and writhed on top of him, riding him fast and hard, your hands on his chest, fingertips pressing into his skin. And Billy looked up at you as desperate as you’d ever seen him, his hands on your hips helping your movements. Karen was picking you up in less than half an hour, but all you could think about was Billy and how good he felt inside you. His hands found your breasts, fingers lightly pinching your hard nipples causing you to groan.

“You’re mine,” he grunted beneath you, for what must have been the thirtieth time that morning.

You’d tried to resist at first, tried to playfully shove him away as you packed your luggage which had resulted in something of a wrestling match that ended with him pulling your clothes off and pinning you to the bed for twenty minutes.

The second time had happened in the bathroom, while you’d been trying to pack your toiletries while he was finishing up in the shower. It was a blur how that one had happened, but it had started with you asking him to hand you your shampoo and had ended with you perched on the bathroom counter, with Billy’s cock driving into you hard enough that you almost saw stars.

The third time, this time, was more your fault; you’d decided to kiss him while grabbing some underwear to pack from the nightstand on your side of the bed while he was lounging in nothing but a towel, and one thing had led to another. 

He pulled you down into a desperate kiss as he came, holding you tight before confirming all your suspicions.

“I don’t want you to go,” he muttered against your lips.

“Billy,” you sighed, softly running your fingers through his hair as you looked down at him, “I’ll only be gone for four nights.”

“I know...”

He didn’t come out and say it directly; that he’d miss you, that he didn’t want to spend those four nights apart, as if some part of him was worried you might never come back to him. And you didn’t push. All you could do was hope that a few days apart would help him realise that you’d always come back.

After a moment, you moved, climbing out of bed to continue packing, while Billy just stayed there, watching your every move.

“Anyway,” you started again as you started folding clothes, “when I get back, I’ll be able to  finish packing up my apartment and moving in here. Then you’ll have me here all the time.” 

Billy was silent for a moment. “I could take you on vacation, if you really want to go away for a while.” 

“Billy -” you stopped the moment you heard the sharp tone in your voice and took a breath. “I’ll FaceTime you every morning and every night before I go to bed, okay? And I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, finally getting out of bed and starting to get dressed, “just... don’t make me worry about you.”

You paused, frowning for a second, not really sure why he’d worry about you. Did he not trust you? Did he not think that you could look after yourself? Shaking your head, you decided not to ask. Nothing was going to happen, you were just going to have fun relaxing in the sun with Karen and, when you got home, you’d have proven that whatever Billy was worrying about was silly.

Karen arrived on time and, thanks to Billy’s distractions, you were still rushing around trying to make sure you had everything that you needed. Once you were ready, Billy took your suitcase and escorted you down to the lobby. Karen smirked at the sight of the pair of you but, thankfully didn’t say anything. She stood by and waited patiently as Billy kissed you and told you to let him know when you landed and when you got to the hotel.

“Look after her,” he told Karen as you finally managed to pull yourself from his arms, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Of course I will,” Karen laughed, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards the door, knowing that you weren’t going to get anywhere without a little intervention.

Billy watched as you left, lingering in the lobby even as you got into Karen’s car, giving a sad little wave as Karen started the car and pulled away from the curb. 

“I don’t know what you did, but I think you’ve broken him,” Karen laughed, noticing the way you were glancing back at his building as she drove away. 

“He’s just... worried,” you shrugged.

“About?” 

“I’m not sure.”

Karen didn’t want to seem to linger on the subject of Billy, and she soon got you talking about how everything was ready at The Bulletin to start work and that you’d need to go sign the paperwork once you were back from Mexico. And, after everything that had happened over the last few months, you found yourself feeling happy, excited. Everything in your life felt amazing, like nothing else could possibly go wrong.

The trip to the airport was uneventful, you got there with enough time to grab a drink at the bar before boarding your flight and, once you were onboard, you had another glass of wine before losing yourself in your book for a few hours. Karen, on the other hand, spent most of the flight on her laptop, finishing up a story so she could send it the moment you got to the hotel. 

It felt like all it took was the blink of an eye to transport you from cold, dreary New York to warm and (mostly) sunny Cancun. There were storm clouds on the horizon but your taxi driver assured you that the rain never lasted too long on the coast. 

Once you arrived at the hotel, you found your rooms, and your vacation began.

You spent what was left of the day drinking Mai Tai’s on the beach before going for food. And, all the while, your phone kept lighting up with texts from Billy.

“I never thought I’d see the day when someone managed to turn Billy Russo into a lost puppy,” Karen joked over dinner.

“He’s normally not this bad,” you tried to explain, but it was clear that Karen didn’t believe a word of it. “He’s just - I dunno, complicated.”

“Speaking of complicated,” she started and you hated the way she let the word hang before finishing the question, “what really happened with you two that day at Anvil?”

Despite being your rock through the whole ordeal, Karen hadn’t asked, she’d given you time and space. She’d let you stay with her and had stepped up to help you with your photography show and hadn’t once tried to pry.

You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, trying to decide what to tell her. Despite that little voice in your head  that wanted to convince you that no one could now and that telling her would change everything, it didn’t feel right to keep lying and hiding things. Besides, Billy’s reaction to your past had left you feeling bolder, stronger; he’d made you feel like maybe it wasn’t all your fault.

Karen stayed silent while you reached a decision and, finally, you told her everything.

She sat, barely moving save to lift her drink, listening to the whole sorry story about you and Scott, about your sister, and about how you’d needed to get away from Florida. You told her about the PI and the file he’d had on you, and why he was looking for you. And, when you were done, the silence lingered for a few awkward moments.

“Holy shit,” she breathed out. “That’s - I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” You shook your head, not really wanting any sympathy for it. “And Billy knows all of that now?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I think that’s why he’s been a bit - y’know, a bit much lately.”

“I mean, I guess I get it? You’re the first serious relationship he’s had since Krista, so knowing that your asshole ex-boyfriend is looking for you is probably making him feel a little out of control.” She took a drink, giving you a second to ponder that thought. It wasn’t something you’d thought about, but it made sense. “Frank says he hasn’t quite been the same since...”

She paused. No, she hesitated, eyeing you like she wasn’t sure if you knew about Billy and Frank yet.

“Billy told me what he did,” you offered. “He blames himself for it, says he can’t even trust himself anymore...”

“He made a stupid choice, but what almost happened to Frank wasn’t on Billy. But, ever since then, Frank says something hasn’t been right.”

“He loves Frank like a brother, I think it just gets to him that he almost lost someone who means so much to him,” you offered.

“Like you,” Karen stated, “it sounds like he’s worried that he’s going to lose you.”

It was a heavy thought, but you weren’t really sure that you could do anything about it. At least, not from Mexico. 

You had a few more drinks before calling it a night. And, once you were alone in your room, and comfortable in bed, you FaceTimed Billy just like you promised you would. He kept you on the call for almost an hour just talking to you about everything and nothing, sounding like he hadn’t had anyone to talk to all day, and it made your heart almost ache to see him that way. His face lit up when you told him you loved him and that you missed him.

And, as promised, you called him again first thing the following morning; he was already at Anvil, sitting behind his desk and looking annoyed from his first morning meeting. The conversation was short and sweet because you wanted breakfast and he was meeting with a client.

Over breakfast you and Karen decided that, from that point on, there would be no more mentions of Billy and Frank, and that you were just going to enjoy your vacation without thinking about New York.

The day was spent at the beach, relaxing and drinking, while Karen filled you in on what to expect when you started working at the Bulletin. She had a story for pretty much everyone that worked there; she told you who to avoid and whose good side to get on. Then, while she sat and read, you decided to take a walk along the beach with your camera.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so relaxed, even if your phone seemed to buzz with a new message from Billy every few minutes. On your walk you sent him some photos of the beach, of you, and of some of the wildlife you encountered. Daring to text wish you were here.

The day ended the same as the last; with dinner and drinks. There was more talking about The Bulletin and, after a few cocktails, Karen filled you in on some of the office gossip before breaking her own rule and turning the conversation to Frank.

“I’m waiting for him to ask me to move in with him,” she said with a sigh, “with what he makes at Anvil and what I make at The Bulletin, we could afford a really nice place... I feel like I’m getting too old to be having sleepovers with my boyfriend.”

You let out a laugh. “Have you tried telling him?”

“I’ve been dropping hints for months and he’s just oblivious.”

You spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking, losing track of time. It was well past midnight when you finally called Billy, and you were more than a little bit tipsy. He stayed on FaceTime with you until you fell asleep on the call. When you woke, you had a text telling you he had meetings all morning and not to call but that he’d text you as soon as he was free. So, you went to meet Karen for breakfast (and she was also feeling a little worse for wear after the night before).

It wasn’t long before you were sitting on the beach again, both quietly enjoying the sun and sipping Mai Tais, your blue cover-up catching in the breeze every time you moved. It wasn’t until one in the afternoon that you finally heard from Billy.

How’s it going? You having fun? Are you and Karen behaving?

You couldn’t help but smile at the message, missing him.

We’ve been having sex on the beach all day. 

Grinning to yourself at your silly little joke, you could just picture Billy’s face as he read it; that unamused eye roll that he did whenever you made a terrible joke.

Funny. I always saw you as more of a Mai Tai sort of girl.

You read the message, then re-read it, trying to remember if you’d ever had cocktails with Billy before. You hadn’t. In fact, you didn’t think you’d ever mentioned them before. It must have been a lucky guess. Before you could reply, your phone buzzed with another message.

What are you wearing?

Your eyes rolled. Of course Billy wanted to know that.

A red bikini with a thong. It’s very sexy.

Was he at work thinking about you in a bikini, you wondered. (No, you hoped he was at work, struggling to focus because he was too busy thinking about you.)

Really? I’m picturing you in a black bikini with a blue long sleeve cover-up and an adorable straw sun hat.

You sat up suddenly, almost spilling your drink, looking at Karen, wondering if she’d been talking to Billy. It took her a moment to open her eyes and realise that you were staring.

“What -” she stopped, her eyes rolling. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

When you turned and saw him standing there, you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at him, so you did neither. Instead you were just frozen for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing.

“Billy, what are you -” you stopped mid-question, not sure you even wanted to hear his reasoning for whatever this was.

“I think I’m going to -” Karen was already half out of her seat, trying to escape the awkwardness of the situation and the argument she sensed was coming.

“No,” you told her suddenly, getting to your feet. “You stay here. We need to talk in private.”

For a second Billy looked ready to say something but he clearly thought better of it when he noticed how you were looking at him. You didn’t even have to ask him to follow you when you turned and headed towards your room. He stayed silent as he walked behind you but, even though you weren’t looking at him, you could tell he was eager to say something.

You practically stormed into your room and waited until you heard the door shut behind him before. You didn’t say a word, you just waited expectantly.

“So, I take it you’re not happy to see me?”

“What are you doing here, Billy?” You sighed, not sure exactly how he’d been expecting you to react. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could start; “and don’t say it’s because you missed me. I’ve only been gone two days.”

His mouth shut and he took a few seconds to think. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You leaned back against the dresser, watching him as he dared to step closer. It felt like there was something else there, some other meaning to his words that you didn’t quite understand. Did he think you were completely incapable of looking after yourself, or was this his abandonment issues playing up again.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You finally asked. “It’s not like I’m here on my own, Billy.”

“I know, I just don’t trust anyone else to look after you,” he confessed, stepping closer, the distance between you shrinking to nothing. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you...”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” you tried to tell him, most of the anger draining from you when you saw the uncomfortable look on his face. “If we’re gonna be together, you can’t keep smothering me.”

“Smothering you?” Billy repeated, the words obviously cutting deep. “That’s not -”

“It’s what it feels like.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you feel that way,” he tried, obviously not sure what he wanted to say to you.

“That’s not an apology,” though some part of you understood that he hadn’t meant it that way, you weren’t going to let him feel like you were the one being unreasonable. “Look, I know that this is hard for you but I need you to understand that sometimes I’m gonna need some space, but just because I want some time apart doesn’t mean that I’m not coming back.”

He stayed silent for a moment, taking a breath and looking like he was weighing up his options. Still, somehow, you felt like there was more to this than he was letting on, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to tell you whatever it was.

“Okay,” Billy relented, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here and I know I can’t expect you to stay with me all the time.”

“Then why are you here?”

Billy shrugged. “Poor impulse control - I didn’t stop to think about it, I just wanted to see you.” He stepped a little closer, his hand finding your cheek. Hesitating a second, he waited to see if you’d pull away from him and, when you didn’t, he leaned in and kissed you softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your vacation.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” you sighed, “but you’re definitely gonna have to apologise to Karen for turning up uninvited.”

“I will,” he answered before pressing his lips to yours again.

You stayed like that for a few moments, trading sweet little kisses, enjoying the fact that he was there, despite the lingering feelings of annoyance. Then his hand dropped to yours, fingers lacing with yours as he led you out onto the balcony.

“Wow, look at that view,” he muttered, his eyes on the beach and ocean below.

You both fell silent for a few minutes, enjoying the scenery and the sounds of waves lapping against the beach.

“I missed you too,” you finally admitted quietly. “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t miss you when we’re not together, but I need you to understand that you can’t do anything like this again.”

Billy let out a slow breath and nodded.

“I won’t,” he promised. “I just... I want you to know that anything I do, even if it pisses you off, it’s because I care about you.”

“I know, Billy, but -” you cut yourself off when he moved to stand behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him.

The familiar press of his cock against your ass had you sighing. Brushing your hair aside, he started to trail kisses along your neck and then, as he relieved you of your cover-up, along your shoulders. His other hand slowly moved down your stomach and, by the time his fingers slipped into your bikini bottoms, you were pressing back against him, giving in to him. As annoyed as you were, you’d missed him and you couldn’t help but give into him.

His fingers slipped lower and your thighs eagerly parted for him, desperate for his touch after two nights without it. The press of his fingertips against your clit destroyed the last of your willpower and you soon felt that familiar slickness between your folds. A soft moan escaped you, your hand reaching behind and tangling in his hair, ensuring his lips continued to trail kisses against your neck, while your other hand moved to grip the balcony railing.

“So wet,” he muttered, kissing the skin just behind your ear, his voice low, barely contained. “You must have really missed me, sweetheart. Have you been lonely without me?”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely holding back a moan as he plunged a finger into your trembling body.  

Your gaze dropped to the beach below, to all the people on their sun loungers who were completely unaware of what was happening above them. It was enough to cause your cheeks to heat, thinking about how one little sound could expose you to everyone on the beach, including Karen.

And Billy seemed to realise exactly what was running through your mind, and he almost caught you by surprise when he pressed a second finger into you. Biting your lip, you managed to stifle your moan, but only just. 

“Billy, please -” you begged, grinding yourself back against him. You needed more; more of him, more of everything. Even though it had only been two days, you needed more than his fingers, you needed all of him.

Fortunately, Billy was just as desperate and, if you’d been able to see his face, you would have known that he was barely holding himself back. The hand between your thighs pulled back, leaving you feeling wet and empty. He peeled your bikini bottoms down and let them fall to your ankles, and you licked your lips as you heard the zip of his pants and the sound they made hitting the floor, thanks to the phone in his pocket. Your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him  against you, loving the sound of his eager, panted breaths by your ear.

Teeth sank deeper into your lip, barely holding back another moan as you felt the ridge of his cock slip through your folds, teasing you, coating his shaft in your wetness. The swollen tip of his cock pressed against your clit, making you squirm against him. 

As much as he wanted you, it quickly became clear that he wanted you to keep begging for him. At first, you tried to deny him, but his fingers had left you primed and desperate for him, eager for him to claim you.

“Fuck me, Billy. Please.” You finally broke.

His cock pitched inside you so suddenly, filling you so quickly that you let a cry spill out, but he didn’t give you time to think about the people on the beach below, or anyone else around who might have heard. Billy let out a groan of his own as he seated himself inside you, revelling in the feeling of your slick walls hugging him tight. You were so overwhelmed that you needed a moment to compose yourself, to make sure you didn’t start screaming his name.

Billy didn’t give you that.

One of his hands covered yours on the rail, while the other found your hip to hold you steady while his hips slowly pulled back then quickly snapped forwards, again and again. You whimpered desperately, trying to stay quiet, but that didn’t stop you from pressing back against him, meeting each thrust halfway.

He groaned against your skin as his lips moved along your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving telltale marks in his wake.

“This needy little pussy is mine,” he told you in a low growl, teeth scraping against your neck. “Two days and it’s already desperate for me, gripping me so tight...”

You’d missed his filthy mouth almost as much as you’d missed him. And, just like that, everything was Billy and nothing else mattered.

He pulled back, almost slipping from you completely before driving forwards again, so roughly that your legs nearly buckled beneath you. Your fingers slipped from his hair to join the other hand on the railing, bracing yourself, wanting him to do his worst. Your insides thrummed with pleasure as he fucked you, your pussy fluttering around his cock every time he filled you, pushing you closer and closer to breaking point. 

You came with a whimper, somehow managing to choke back the scream that he so desperately wanted to rip from you. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and your whole body shook, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. 

“You get so fucking wet when you come,” Billy grunted, his teeth nipping at your neck again. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re not done yet.”

There was no stopping, no slowing down, even as you tried to pull away, too sensitive and over stimulated as your orgasm continued to shake your body. But his grip on your hip held you in place, his whole arm moving around your waist when you continued to try and squirm away. And, all the while, he kept driving his cock into you, from tip to hilt, every hard inch.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the railing, knees trembling beneath you. When it almost became too much, Billy hand moved from yours and settled on your back, urging you forwards so you were almost bent over the railing. Suddenly you could see the whole beach and it made it feel all the more dangerous, like there was no way you wouldn’t be caught. But you still didn’t want him to stop.

“Fuck, Billy,” you moaned as softly as you could, back arching, ass pressing back to try and meet his thrusts, “you’re so deep...”

“Want me to come for you?” He leaned down to pant in your ear. 

“Yes,” you groaned with unabashed desperation. “Come inside me, please…”

“Not until you come for me again,” he told you with a breathless laugh. “You don’t get my cum until this needy little pussy begs for it.”

A whimper spilled from your lips, not sure you could come again after the climax he’d already dragged from you, but what was the alternative? You knew now that Billy could keep going, that he’d fuck you senseless for hours if you let him. Letting one hand slip from the railing, you quickly found your swollen clit and started to circle it with your fingers. 

His pace quickened, thrusts turning short and shallow, only fucking the deepest parts of you, letting out a low groan when he realised what you were doing with your fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” his lips brushed against your ears as he muttered, his breath catching as he felt you start to tighten around him, continuing to fuck you as you got closer and closer to the edge again.

Suddenly, his fingers gripping your hair, pulling back your head so you could see his face.

“I want to see your face when you come for me,” he all but demanded, the commanding tone of his voice earning a moan from you. And you did as he wanted, keeping your eyes on his as he kept fucking you and your fingers kept pushing you to your breaking point.

He broke when you did, spilling hot inside you as your walls started to convulse around him. With a couple more thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, remaining there while he emptied himself, giving you everything you’d begged for and more. You stayed where you were, legs too weak to even think about trying to move. Billy leaned forwards, placing his chin on your shoulder and looking down at the beach and, out of the corner of his eye, you could see he was grinning.

“I wonder if any of them know what we just did.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to remember that you were still supposed to be annoyed with him, but it was impossible when you could still feel his cock gently pulsing inside of you. His lips soon moved back to your neck, this time trailing soft and tender kisses along your skin.

“You know, you can’t just fuck me every time you annoy me, right?” It was half-serious, half-joke, as you rested your head against his.

“Why not?” Billy asked. “Seems to be working pretty well so far.”

As much as you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, you are. I guess I’m stuck with you then?” Billy gave a hum and a nod in response. “Fine, but you’re still gonna have to explain to Karen why you’re crashing our girls-only vacation.”

He let out a sigh. “Fine, but I'm gonna need one of those Mai Tais first...”

Chapter Twenty-Three

END NOTES :  I feel like it was obvious that he was going to turn up but I hope it shocked at least a couple of you lmao.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed this one! Have a lovely weekend!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-One

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - back to their smutty selves

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing massive, just some smutty behaviour in public and a brief visit to Billy's mother in the care home. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : After last week, we're back to more slightly fun times with reader and Billy. This is set around a couple of weeks after the last part!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY

Chapter Twenty-One

It wasn’t easy. Nothing about going back to Billy after everything that had happened was easy, and you both seemed to understand that something had shifted in your relationship. There were no more lies between you, no more walls to hide behind. When you’d told him the truth about Scott, you’d let him see a part of yourself that only one other person knew, and when Billy told you about Frank, about how he’d always traded his brother for a lavish lifestyle, he’d let you see how flawed he really was.

The honeymoon period of your relationship was over and, now, you were privy to the darkest parts of each other.

Only a year ago, that level of intimacy with another person would have terrified you, but now, knowing that he loved you despite your mistakes, made you feel closer to him than ever. And, in turn, knowing more about the things that hurt him, the things that made him hate and second guess himself, made you feel like you could actually support him when he needed you, instead of pretending like everything in his life was perfect.

The conversation about you moving in came up again and, of course, you said yes. Karen came through with the offer of a job with The Bulletin. And, suddenly, you felt like you had purpose again, like you were actually living your life instead of just existing. Karen even wanted to take you on a girls weekend to Mexico to celebrate.

But the new frankness in your relationship did cause a few little bumps, but they were things that you knew couldn’t be rushed; like Billy’s panic attacks. He still wouldn’t talk about them though, thankfully, he hadn’t had any that you knew of since your photography show.

And, on the topic of the show - well, let's just say you and Billy had words a couple of days after the show when almost half the photos that had been sold turned up at the penthouse. But, as much as you might have wanted to be annoyed about it, when he told you that he’d bought them so that he’d always have something to remember you by, you knew you couldn’t stay mad. And you had to admit that you’d never really been comfortable with the thought of anyone else owning that photo of him.

Little by little, he opened himself up to you, but never more so than he agreed to let you meet his mother. Though agreed might have been too strong of a word for it.

“I’m going to be late to Karen’s party tomorrow,” he told you as you sat down to dinner together.

“That’s okay, I can wait for you,” you shrugged, assuming that work would be keeping him late. 

“No, it’s fine, you should just go ahead. I don’t know how long I’m going to be.”

“I’m sure Anvil won’t go bankrupt if you decide to finish an hour early on a friday,” you joked.

“It’s not a work thing,” he confessed, awkwardly dropping his gaze for a moment. You didn’t ask, you just gave him a moment, letting him decide if he wanted to tell you. And he did. “I go to see my mom on the last friday of every month, just to make sure everything’s -”

He trailed off into a sigh before offering you something of a shrug. That one little gesture told you everything; he wasn’t going because he wanted to, he was going out of some sense of obligation.

“I’ll go with you,” you told him the words coming out before you could even stop to really think about it.

“No, you’d just be waiting in the car, you might as well just -”

“No, I mean, I want to meet your mom.”

“What?” It was hard to tell if he was more shocked or confused.

It took you a moment to find the words to explain it to him. “For better or worse, she’s your family Billy and I want to get to know every part of you.”

Billy hadn’t been happy exactly, but he did relent and give in to you, and the next day, after work, the pair of you drove to the little home where his mother lived.

First impressions were not great, and you could understand why the PI had had such a low opinion of where Billy was choosing to keep his mother. A part of you did feel bad as he led you through the dingy, sterile corridors, the sounds of other residents echoing all around you.

You gripped Billy’s hand a little tighter and, when he gave you a concerned look, you explained to him that it reminded you of a hospital and that you hated hospitals.

A couple of the nurses offered muttered hellos as you and Billy passed them before stopping at a door labelled Carla Russo. He looked at you for a second before taking a breath and opening the door.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but what you found on the other side of that door certainly wasn’t it. Over the months you’d known about Billy’s abandonment, you’d built up this picture of a malevolent, uncaring and selfish woman. You’d pictured her as a monster, but the bedridden woman in front of you was the opposite of what you’d imagined. You felt almost bad for her, seeing what years of substance abuse had done to her.

Billy introduced you but you barely heard it, barely noticed much of anything until he let go of your hand and made his way around her bed to softly kiss her forehead. His mother didn’t react, but your attention was more concerned with Billy; with the stiff way he carried himself and the way he seemed to be forcing back a frown. 

He spoke with his mother for a few minutes, as if she’d asked to hear about his day and how his work was going, while you took a seat. You half-listened, just watching Billy and trying to imagine a happy scene, one where his mother acknowledged him and smiled at his achievements, rather than staring vacantly at the ceiling.

When his attention finally returned to you, it was to tell you that he needed to go speak with her doctor, asking you if you’d be alright waiting there on your own or if you wanted to go wait in the car.  You told him you’d stay, that you’d wait with his mother.

The minutes ticked by and you remained seated and silent, watching the figure on the bed as she just laid there, until something compelled you to stand, to move closer. 

You looked down at her with all the sympathy you could muster, seeing a woman who should have still had so much of her life in front of her. As much as you wanted to hate her, all you really felt was pity, but not because of the state that she was in.

“You should know that your son’s a good man,” you told her, even though she gave no indication that she was listening or even realised that you were there, “he’s kind and funny,  and so full of love. And he’s all of those things in spite of you. I don’t know how hard it was for you to leave him like that, but I pity you - not because you’re like this but because you gave up your chance to know him like I do. You gave up the chance to know what it’s like to be loved by him.”

If she could hear or understand what you were saying, she didn’t show it, but you weren’t quite done.

“He’s been through so much on his own, but he’s not alone anymore; he’s got me now, and I’m never going to abandon him like you did. You didn’t love or protect your son when he needed you most, but I’m never going to give up on him. I’m going to love him the way that he deserves to be loved.” The words tumbled from your lips and, somehow, you felt better for having said them, even if Carla Russo showed no signs of understanding you.

A moment later, Billy was back, telling you that he was ready to leave. You both gave his mother a terse goodbye before Billy took you by the hand and started leading you away. He didn’t say anything, as you stepped outside and started down the street towards the car. For a time you didn’t even think anything of how tightly he was holding your hand - you just assumed that he was feeling a little vulnerable after everything you’d just witnessed.

That is, until he pulled you off the sidewalk and into an alleyway.

Before you could ask what he was doing, Billy was kissing you, pressing you back against a wall with a familiar urgency. And, once you felt his erection pressed against you, any questions you might have had about what he was doing were rendered moot; he needed something from you and couldn’t even wait until you were back at the car to get it.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you, one hand pulling at the fastenings of his pants while the other held you securely until you thought to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. The kiss broke as one hand slipped beneath your dress to pull your panties aside and the other pressed two fingers between your lips.

“Wet them,” He instructed, already sounding breathless.

You did as he asked without question, licking and sucking his fingers, lathering them with saliva. Once they were coated, he slipped the fingers between your thighs and used them to prime your entrance. While he did that, he took a moment to spit on his own hand before fisting his cock, trying to lubricate it. 

His fingers pulled out of you, and you cried against his lips as his hips slammed into yours, filling you with every hard inch of him in one rough thrust. Despite his best efforts, you still weren’t wet enough, still weren’t ready for him, but you knew that this was more about Billy and what he needed than anything else. And, as he started to fuck you, your body quickly caught up, slickening around his cock and aiding his movements.

You fisted his hair, holding on for dear life and trying to ignore the scrape of brickwork against your lower back as Billy fucked you, taking everything that he needed from you. The quick and rough jerks of his hips told you that he wouldn’t last long, but you knew you wouldn’t either at this pace. And, honestly, the thought of doing this outside, in some filthy alleyway where anyone might stumble across you, thrilled you more than you ever thought it would.

He grunted against your lips and you did your best to swallow down every sound he made, even as his cock started to pulse inside you and you felt him start to come. You didn’t hesitate before reaching between your bodies and starting to rub your swollen clit while he emptied himself inside you. It only took a few moments more for you to find your own sweet release, your body trembling, your walls squeezing around him, before you both finally stilled.

He stayed inside you, his eyes finding yours, and you could tell his mind was racing, though you weren’t sure why. Your grip on his hair loosened and you slowly started to run your fingers through his locks, trying to set it to rights.

“Did you mean it?” He asked quietly and, for a moment, you weren’t sure what he meant. “What you said to her - did you mean it?”

“You heard that?”

“Every word.”

“Of course I meant it,” you told him as your lips pulled into a smile. “You’re mine, Billy. And I’m yours.”

“Forever,” he added before leaning in to kiss you again.

But the sounds of people on the street had him quickly pulling out and putting you down. You let out a groan at the feeling of emptiness and grimaced at the feeling of his cum starting to trickle down your thighs. Billy offered you his handkerchief and you did your best to clean yourself up while he did up his pants and kept a lookout. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit through this whole birthday dinner thing knowing you’re full of my cum,” he muttered, in a half-joking and half-serious tone that caused your cheeks to heat. 

“Then you should have finished in my mouth instead,” you answered back quietly and the look Billy shot you had you almost bracing yourself to go again. For a few. Long seconds you held his gaze until he finally relented and let out a laugh.

“Maybe I’ll find us another alley once we’re done with dinner.” He smirked, holding out his hand to you.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” You asked, grabbing his hand and holding tight as you started walking back to the Wraith.

It felt like his mood had lifted and he seemed more relaxed than he had when you’d first arrived to visit his mother. And you were glad, you were happy that you’d gone with him, and that he’d heard every word you’d said to Carla Russo. More than that, you were glad that he’d believed it.

When you finally made it to the restaurant, half an hour later than planned, Karen was first to stand to greet you both. And, as expected, you were the last ones there. Everyone else was already seated, each with a drink and the complimentary breadsticks were long gone. While she came to greet you, Billy did the rounds to greet his friends. 

“Glad to see you finally managed to pull yourself out of Billy’s bed,” she smirked, and your cheeks immediately started to warm.

“That’s not - we weren’t -” you tried to argue.

“Please,” Karen laughed, “you look like you’ve just had your brains fucked out.”

Your hands quickly moved, nervously trying to smooth down your dress and hair, which just made Karen laugh more.

“I don’t mean like that, I mean -” she paused for a moment to look at you and think of the perfect word, “- it’s like you’ve got a glow or something.”

Your eyes went wide at the connotations of that word. “Karen, glow is really not a word I want to hear.”

“Why not? You’re using protection, aren’t you?” She asked and your cheeks continued to get warmer.

“I’m on birth control, but we...” you took an awkward breath and shook your head. “Look, it doesn’t matter, it’s not... that. We just - I dunno, we got a little bit closer today. Billy trusted me with something important and one thing kinda just led to another...” 

“Uh-huh,” she kept smirking. “So things have been good since you decided to give it another go?” You nodded and Karen threw a glance in Billy’s direction. “Well, whatever it is you two have been up to, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

Your gaze followed her and, a moment after you started looking, Billy was staring right back at you, a disarming smile on his lips. Karen uttered something about finally being able to order and shooed you in the direction of Billy and the two empty seats that had been saved for you both at the end of the table. And, honestly, you were glad to get away from her.

“You alright?” Billy asked, seeming to notice your embarrassment as you took your seat at his side.

“I’m fine, Karen was just being Karen,” you told him and Billy nodded, even though he had no idea what you meant.

Food was ordered and you enjoyed sitting back and watching Billy interact with his friends, happy that he seemed to be so happy. But his attention always returned to you eventually. By the time you’d all finished eating, everyone had had more than enough to drink to start getting a little louder, joking and laughing with each other.

Billy leaned towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before whispering in your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking back to the first time he’d uttered those words; the party, the bathroom, the way he’d kissed you, and the way he’d made you come for the first time. You bit your lip for a moment, earning a grin from him as he pulled back a fraction. Your eyes flitted down the table, noticing how everyone else seemed absorbed in whatever story Curtis was telling. Billy’s eyes didn’t stray from you.

His hand found your bare knee, causing you to inhale sharply - and that just made Billy grin more. His fingers moved slowly, ghosting up your thigh and taking the fabric of your dress with them while your legs instinctively started to part for him. You knew you were playing with fire and that this couldn’t go much further, but that didn’t stop you from shifting forward in your seat and making sure the table cloth hid what you were doing.

The further up your thigh his hand got, the more you knew you needed to tell him to stop; you needed to be the voice of reason because you were certain that any thought of common sense had long since abandoned Billy. 

His name was called from the other end of the table and you almost breathed a sigh of relief as he turned from you and started talking to his friends. Almost. Even though he wasn’t looking at you, his hand kept moving, higher and higher.

You reached for your wine glass and tried to take a drink to keep yourself from moaning as his fingers finally pressed against your wet panties. The warmth of his fingers bled through the wet fabric and all you could think about was how you wanted so much more. Despite being sat at a table with twelve other people, you wanted to feel him inside of you.

“Right?” Billy spoke suddenly, looking at you with a big grin on his face, pulling you into the conversation, even though the only thing you could think about was his hand between your legs and how needy you suddenly felt.

You nodded, even though you had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone laughed and Billy continued talking, his fingers still pressing against you, slowly rubbing, driving you more and more insane with every passing moment.

When he finally dared to slip beneath the fabric and run his fingers through your arousal, you closed your legs. As much as you wanted it, you knew that you couldn’t; not there, not like that. But Billy’s hand remained, his fingers still teasing you as your thighs squeezed around his hand, and you knew you’d have to do something before you gave in to what you both so obviously wanted. 

Leaning towards him, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, while your hand gently pulled his from between your legs. You whispered in his ear; “not here.”

You stood and excused yourself, heading for the bathroom, slipping inside and leaving the door unlocked behind you. Less than a minute later, Billy was with you, locking the door and pressing you back against it.

“I can’t believe you were going to try to make me come on your fingers in front of all your friends,” you tried to feign annoyance but the way he kissed you, left you with only one thought in mind.

“You should’ve told me you were so wet, sweetheart,” he groaned against your lips, “your panties are soaked.”

“Some of that is your fault,” you told him as your hand started to tug at the zipper of his pants.

“We’re gonna have to be quick,” he told you, letting out another groan as your hand reached into his pants to pull out his already semi-hard cock, “I think Karen already knows what we’re doing in here.”

“Less talking, more kissing,” you told him and Billy was glad to oblige, kissing you deeply while your hand stroked his cock.

You expected him to lift you up but, instead, you felt a gentle pressure on your hip, his hand urging you downwards. Eagerly, you dropped to your knees, your hand still running over his shaft. For a moment, you looked up at him, wanting nothing more than to tease and drive him crazy, but you knew that you didn’t have time for that.

Wrapping your lips around the thick tip of his cock, your hand continued to pump the shaft, feeling him getting harder and harder, and when he started to leak, your tongue greedily lapped it up.

He groaned your name, fisting your hair and bucking his hips forward, trapping you between him and the door as he thrust more of his cock between your lips. You gladly obliged him, pressing forwards and starting to give him what he wanted, listening to his barely contained grunts and groans. As he pushed closer, you found yourself trapped in place, with your head pressed back against the door as he took over completely. His hand stayed in your hair, holding you in place as he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, slowly at first and then a little quicker.

Your eyes stayed on his watching as, piece by piece, he seemed to start losing his mind. There was always something so real and so raw about moments like this with Billy, where you knew he was being driven by nothing but instinct and need. He needed you and, fuck, it felt good to be needed.

“Fuck,” he growled as you pressed your tongue against the underside of his shaft, drawing your cheeks in and sucking as he moved, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

As his breathing got heavier and heavier, you braced yourself for his climax but, rather than coming, Billy suddenly pulled out of your mouth. 

His hands pulled you up by your arms and, before you knew what he was doing, he’d manoeuvred you around the tiny bathroom and bent you over the skin. Your eyes found his in the mirror as he pulled up your dress and tore your panties. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that wanted to tear from you as his cock filled you.

With one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder, Billy didn’t waste any time before he started to fuck you. Every time he thrust into you, you found your thighs knocking into the sink - it would probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything except Billy and the way he was making you feel.

But the way he was fucking you made it impossible to stay quiet, and you knew you were one loud moan away from everyong in the restaurant outside knowing exactly what you were doing. So, you took his hand from your shoulder and pulled it over your mouth. And Billy’s reaction in the mirror sent a thrill straight to your core. And, with his hand muffling your gasps of pleasure, his thrusts only got faster, rougher, giving you both what you so desperately needed. 

You hand stayed pressed over his against your lips, making it feel like some tender and intimate thing and, for you and Billy, you supposed that was exactly what it was. This was who you were; two people so in loved, so stuck on each other that you couldn’t even make it through a whole meal with friends without wanting to fuck each others brains out. And perhaps that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t. 

You were so happy. So in love.

Billy leaned over you, his lips on your neck for a moment before finding your ear and muttering that one little word that was guaranteed to send you over the edge.

“Mine.”

That one little word felt like it set off fireworks inside you, your body trembling as his hand pressed tighter against your mouth muffling the moans of pleasure that tried to escape as your body trembled. Billy came a moment later, pressing his lips back to your neck to dampen his own growls and groans, his hips still moving slowly, making sure to draw out the moment for both of you.

When he finally pulled out, it took you a moment to stand back up, reaching for some tissue to try to clean yourself up. Smoothing your dress down, you laughed as Billy picked up the tattered remains of your panties from the floor and placed them in his pocket.

“When I move in with you, am I going to find a drawer full of all the panties you’ve ripped off me?” You joked, reaching for him and brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.

“It’s the second drawer in my nightstand, but it’s nowhere near  full. Yet.” Billy grinned, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking, and you knew you’d have to check once you got back to the penthouse.

You checked your make-up in the mirror and made sure you didn’t look like you’d just been fucked by your boyfriend over the bathroom sink, before letting out a sigh. You didn’t want to go back out to the others, you wanted to stay with Billy, but it had already been almost ten minutes and they’d probably all already figured out what you’d been doing.

“I’ll go back out now,” you told him, slipping past him to reach the door, “you should wait another couple of minutes - pretend you got a call or something.”

Billy nodded and agreed, and you gave him one last little look before slipping out of the bathroom and returning to the table.

A few people had left in your absence, and everyone seemed to have moved further up the table to be closer to Karen, so you took the empty seat at her side, even though it put you a little closer to Frank than you would have liked. 

Karen gave you a look and you knew that she knew exactly what you’d just been doing. Everyone kept talking for a moment until one topic ended and Curtis moved the spotlight to you.

“Karen was just telling us how you two are going on a long weekend to Mexico, you sure you don’t want some company.” Curtis joked.

“It’s a girls only weekend,” Karen answered.

“How’d you get Bill on board with that, anyway?” Frank asked, and everyone was gracious enough to ignore the way you almost flinched when he spoke to you.

“Get me on board with what?” Billy asked, as he sat behind you, making a show of putting his phone down as if he’d just been on a call.

You let out a sigh and shook your head.

“You didn’t tell him yet?” Karen asked and you turned to see Billy looking less than happy about having no idea why he was suddenly the centre of attention. 

“Tell me what?” He was looking straight at you, and you hated that you were going to have to have this conversation straight after everything that had just happened between you.

“Me and Karen are going on a girls weekend to Mexico to celebrate my job with The Bulletin. I was going to tell you last night, but...” you didn’t have to say it, Billy knew that you’d both been a little distracted by thoughts of you meeting his mother.

“Oh, okay,” he shrugged like it was nothing, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

Tense moment averted, the conversation continued and your hand found his on the table, giving it a tight squeeze as a silent thank you. You’d talk about it later, you’d explain to him how you wanted a little break from the city and - well, it was only going to be for three nights, and once you got back you’d be ready to move in with him. But, thankfully, as far as you could tell Billy was fine with it. So, instead of worrying, you just enjoyed the rest of the evening, waiting until you could go home with Billy.

Chapter Twenty-Two

END NOTES :  So, after some drama they're back to their normal selves. I know the last few chapters have been a little bit heavy, so hopefully this one is more of a fun read. Also sorry it's a little later than usual, I got busier than expected this week.

As always, thanks for reading , and a big thanks to those who follow, like, comment and reblog! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PG13

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some potentially triggering stuff in one including; mentions of sibling death by drowning, death of a child, relationship with an inappropriate age gap, gaslighting/abusive relationship, attempted murder, car crash/DUI, and the drug trade. I don't go into a lot of detail with any of them but please avoid if you find these things triggering. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.9k

A/N : Please check the warnings on this one, it covers a lot of readers past and some of Billy's!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN

Chapter Twenty

There was a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach the moment you opened your eyes and remembered the events of the previous evening and the fact that you’d agreed to meet Billy at midday. Not even the news that several of your photographs had sold last night was enough to make you feel any better. All you could think about was Billy on the fire escape as you’d walked away from him.

The morning was spent flitting about the apartment, unable to sit still, which eventually led you to decide to go to the coffee shop early and try and gather your nerves for what would be your last goodbye to Billy.

You arrived ten minutes early, but found that Billy had had the same idea; he was sitting there, at the same table where you’d shared your first coffee together. A weak smile tugged at his lips when he noticed you and, as you approached, you felt your heart sink. He looked awful and you could tell that he hadn’t slept a wink last night. He looked sickly pale which only accentuated the dark circles below his bloodshot eyes. Just the sight of him made you want to hold him and look after him.

“I already ordered, I hope you don’t mind,” he said as you sat opposite him.

There were two mugs on the table, hot chocolates with whipped cream, just like you’d made him as those weeks ago. He’d even gotten one of your favourite muffins.

“Thank you,” you uttered softly, eyes fixed on your drink, not really sure how to say any of the things that you needed to say to him. Luckily Billy knew where he wanted to start things.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he sighed.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that,” because fucking him on the fire escape was the least of your worries, and thinking about it made you feel too many things that you couldn’t deal with. “Are you okay? I mean, after last night, you were -”

“I’m fine,” the words left his lips automatically, just like the last time you’d tried to ask him about it.

“You’re not fine, Billy.” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it and, normally, you wouldn’t want to push him to, but if things were really over between you now, it didn’t really matter if he got annoyed about it. Besides, your shit had been laid bare for him and you didn’t like him hiding behind that empty lie. “The first time, you said it was because you thought I’d left you, and last night -”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted with a sharp but jagged edge to his tone.

“You can’t tear yourself apart over me like that. It’s not worth it,” you tried to tell him, wanting to at least make some part of this more bearable for him. “I’m not worth it.”

“Yes you are. Don’t ever say that to me.” He answered without hesitation, despite everything he’d learned about you from the PI’s file. If the circumstance between you had been a little different, it would have made you love him even more but, unfortunately for both of you, Billy still didn’t know the whole story.

The only way you could change his mind and, hopefully, give him some peace was to tell him the whole story. You took a slow breath and steeled yourself for what you had to do.

“The file doesn’t tell the whole story,” you admitted quietly. Billy didn’t say anything, he just waited for you to continue. “I started dating Scott a couple of months after I turned sixteen, but I’d known him most of my life. His dad was Sheriff and his brothers were both cops, so everyone knew their family one way or another.”

You paused to take a breath, knowing that the story only got worse from there and, as much as you wanted to be honest with Billy, you didn’t want to recount things in any great detail for both of your sakes.

“He was older. Twenty-two. I thought he was amazing and I thought I was so mature because an older guy wanted to date me.” You let out a bitter huff of laughter at the ridiculous thought, while Billy’s knuckles started to turn white as he gripped his mug tighter and tighter. “We kept it secret; I knew my parents wouldn’t approve and he didn’t want to embarrass his dad. I thought I was ready for a grown up relationship, but I wasn’t...”

“You were just a child,” his voice was low, barely audible. It was clear that he didn’t want to interrupt but he felt like he had to say something. You just shrugged before continuing.

“I was a lonely kid; Sam joined the Army as soon as he turned eighteen, and my parents were always so busy that I spent most of my time looking after Lilly. She was half my age, so it wasn’t like we had much in common but...” a shaky hand listed your mug to your lips and you took a drink, trying to avoid the next part of the story.

“The file said she drowned?” Billy prompted gently, trying to help you along.

“I was supposed to be watching her, she wasn’t supposed to swim by the dock unless someone was with her, but Scott turned up. He’d been drinking and he wanted to see me, and I -” you stopped again, gaze dropping as you tried to blink back tears, “- I told him I was watching Lilly, and he started arguing with me; he told me I didn’t love him enough and maybe I was just a kid after all.”

You took another drink and broke off a piece of muffin - everything you could do to avoid looking at Billy and letting him see the shame written all over your face. It took around thirty seconds before you could force yourself to continue.

“I didn’t want to lose him, so I went with him. I told him I couldn’t be gone for more than a couple of minutes, but every time I tried to go back to Lilly, he’d start up again. And when he finally let me go an hour later, it was too late. She - she must’ve gotten bored waiting for me...”

Billy glared at you and you could see everything you’d feared written all over his face. Now he knew the truth, he knew just how worthless you were, how selfish and wretched you were. You’d never wanted to see him look at you that way, with such disgust and anger on his face, and it hurt even worse than you’d ever imagined it would.

“Told you I’m not worth it,” you shrugged weakly.

“What?” Seeming to snap out of whatever dark thought he’d been stuck in, he looked at you for a moment, expression shifting from anger to confusion in an instant. “Sweetheart, you made a mistake, but you weren’t the adult in the situation. The only one that’s not worth anything in this situation is that fucker. He shouldn’t’ve ever gone near you. He used your age against you to get what he wanted and ‘cause of that, you made a tragic mistake. No one should blame you for that.”

“Everyone did blame me.” You looked back down at your mug again.

“How could they when -”

“No one knew he was there,” you confessed, “he called his brother and - I dunno, everything just happened. They told me I’d get in trouble if I told anyone Scott was there.” Billy let out an irritated huff and you could tell he was getting angry, but not at you like you’d expected. “My parents were devastated, they couldn’t believe I’d be so reckless and I - I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“But that wasn’t the end of things with Scott, was it?” Billy tried to nudge you back towards the story, not letting you linger on something that was clearly causing you pain.

“No, we stayed together. He made me think he was the only person who could accept me after what I did. He told me everyone else thought I killed her. And, I believed him. I let him convince me that he was the only person who could accept me.” A hint of anger slipped into your voice, even now, years later, you were still so angry that you’d let him manipulate you. You knew Billy wanted to say something but he bit his tongue and let you carry on. “We moved in together when I turned eighteen and made things official. I was going to go to college but he -” you trailed into another sigh.

“Fuck,” Billy muttered under his breath before taking a drink.

“I was with him for years, eventually I felt stuck, like I had nowhere to go. He made it so he seemed like the only stable thing in my life by starting shit with my parents, so I couldn’t go to them for help. He made me feel like no one trusted me...” you stopped again, taking another drink and eating a little bit more of the muffin.

“You don’t have to keep going,” Billy told you suddenly, like he’d made up his mind.

“How can you say that?” You looked at him, confused.

“Because I can see how much this is hurting you and -” he shook his head, not wanting to finish the thought. But you could see something else in his expression; worry. Something about you telling him all of this was worrying him.

For a moment you considered his offer; he was giving you a way out, a way to save yourself from the pain. But, after everything, didn’t he deserve to know the real you?

“When he proposed, I knew I had to get away from him,” you decided to continue, “by then, my parents had both passed, and Sam was the only family I had left. I just - I knew I couldn’t marry him or have his kids. I tried to get Sam’s, but Scott caught up with me. And I - I knew that he’d been drinking, and I knew how stupid I was to get in the car, but -”

“The accident,” Billy tried to fill in the gaps, “the one that left you scarred?”

“It wasn’t an accident. He told me that, if he couldn’t have me, no one could,” you shook your head, trying not to think about it too much. “He was arrested and got five years.”

“Five years for attempted murder?”

“No, just for the DUI. I didn’t report it. I just wanted to get as far away as I could.” You took another drink and finished the last of the muffin, even though your stomach felt upside down. “I told Sam everything and he gave me some money to leave Florida and start a new life. And, eventually, I ended up in New York.”

You gave a little shrug, gaze dropping and feeling far too vulnerable to look at Billy now that the story was done. He reached across the table without warning and you tense a little as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. But his act of comfort was short lived, only lasting a few seconds before he pulled away again. And, when you finally looked at him again, you found only resignation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he offered again, “I understand why trust is so important to you now, and I hate that I couldn’t give you that.”

“I wish things could’ve worked out differently,” you told him softly, sadly.

“I take it there’s no point trying to convince you that I can do better, is there? You’ve made up your mind that this is the end.” His voice was a quagmire of emotions; hurt, anger, sadness. All things that made your heart ache. Now his worry made sense. He knew that once this was done, everything would be over between you.

You shook your head, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, knowing that you didn’t have the strength left to actually say the words. Instead you went with; “I’m leaving New York for a while.”

“What?” The pain he’d been barely suppressing finally filled his voice.

“I’m going to stay with Sam in Connecticut for a while. I don’t have the money to stay in New York anymore.”

“I could -”

“Billy, no...” you stopped him before he could make the offer and he quickly fell silent for a few seconds.

“I’ve still got your stuff at the penthouse. I could drop it off for you?”

“No, I’ll come get it,” you answered quickly, though you weren’t sure why. You wanted to see it one last time, you supposed, you wanted a proper goodbye. “I can come by tomorrow evening?”

“Yeah, okay.”

And, just like that, everything was over. Your mug and plate were both empty, and you’d told him everything you’d come to say. You sat for a few moments before managing to say goodbye to him. He gave you back the file and walked out of the coffee shop with you, looking nothing short of defeated, watching you as you walked away from him. Somehow, you kept your head up high and didn’t turn back, silently telling yourself that you were strong enough to walk away from him, despite the pain.

The next twenty-four hours passed in something of a daze; you were still working so that took up a good chunk of your day but, no matter what you were doing, you couldn’t stop thinking about Billy, about how that night would be the last time you ever saw him. Even though you knew it was for the best, the part of you that loved him - the part that would always love him - refused to stay silent on the matter, trying to convince you that you should stay, that you shouldn’t give up on your only chance of happiness.

When the evening rolled around and you found yourself outside his building, it took fifteen minutes to work up the nerve to walk inside. Marvin the doorman gave you a fond smile and as you passed and made your way to the elevator, your fingers gripping the key to the penthouse floor - another thing you were going to have to give up.

The whole elevator ride up, you held your breath, counting the seconds until the doors opened.

A pang of disappointment filled you when you stepped into the penthouse and Billy wasn’t waiting for you, ready to pull you into his arms and press you back against the wall. Instead nothing but silence greeted you. 

It felt strange setting foot in the penthouse knowing it was the last time you’d ever be there. As you stepped off the elevators, you couldn’t help but look around, noticing all the little changes that had happened since Billy first brought you home the night of the gala. You could remember how cold and empty it had seemed, but now there were little reminders everywhere of changes Billy had made to make sure that you would be comfortable there; a couple of fleece blankets draped over the back of the sofa for when you got cold and cushions so you could sprawl out whenever you were watching movies together, lamps dotted around in all the places where you liked to sit and read, he’d even gone as far as getting a Cookie Monster cookie jar for the kitchen that he kept full of your favourite cookies.

You’d barely noticed it at the time, but Billy had gone out of his way to make space for you in his home, and now it made your heart ache thinking about how he’d probably give up on all the colour and warmth he’d let into his life because you were gone.

“Hey,” his voice startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts as he emerged from the bedroom.

“Hi,” you offered quietly, suddenly feeling like a stranger in his home.

Billy approached you but stopped a few feet away, keeping his distance. You could tell that he still hadn’t slept and, honestly, he looked awful. Even his clothes gave him away; wrinkled pants, tie pulled loose, and the top couple of buttons of his shirt hanging open.

Neither of you spoke for almost a minute, until Billy finally let out a soft sigh.

“Everything’s where you left it,” and he gave a wave, indicating that you should go and gather your things. 

There were so many things that you wanted to say but you knew that there was nothing that would fix this, nothing that would make either of you feel any better. So, you decided to treat the situation like ripping off a band-aid, and get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

Billy retreated into the kitchen as you moved to the bedroom and started gathering your things. There was more than you expected, more than you remembered but, soon enough, you’d formed two piles; things they you’d brought with you, and things that Billy had bought for you.

After ten minutes, you noticed him in the doorway, watching you.

“It wouldn’t be right of me to keep these,” you told him and his eyes followed you to the second pile, the gifts he’d given you. There was the camera equipment, several books, a pair of winter boots, a coat, and a teddy bear he’d bought you because you’d joked that it looked like him.

“I want you to keep them,” he told you with a dismissive shake of his head, like they didn’t matter, like he hadn’t spent thousands of dollars on you.

“Billy, I -”

“They’re yours. Anything you leave, I’m gonna burn,” he snapped suddenly, his voice breaking, betraying him. He waited a beat before turning and walking out of the room, leaving you at a complete loss.

Reluctantly, you packed everything up, knowing that you couldn’t let Billy burn any of it, thinking maybe you could sell them and send him the money.

Once you were done, you took a breath and looked around the bedroom one last time, remembering all the fun times you’d had there and how much you were going to miss waking up beside him every morning. Then, you picked up your case and left the room.

Billy was in the kitchen again, sipping a coffee, he didn’t even look at you as you started to move towards the elevator.

“Frank almost died because of me,” his words broke the silence but you didn’t understand their purpose. They weren’t a plea for you to stay, and they didn’t sound like some confession of feelings. In fact, they seemed completely unrelated to anything that was happening. 

As much as you didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation, you couldn’t let the comment go unanswered, you couldn’t ignore his broken tone. 

“What?” Stopping and putting the case down, turning to face him.

“You asked why I don’t trust people, and that’s why. I almost got the man who’s the closest thing to family I have, killed.” There was anger in his words, something dark and painful that seemed to run deep.

“What are you trying to tell me?” You dared to ask, though you were scared of how he might answer.

“When we were Marines, we got selected for a special, off-the-books until, and the shit we did -” he shook his head and you knew better than to ask him to fill in the blanks, “- when I’d had enough, I requested a transfer back to Force, but Frankie - he stayed.” His gaze dropped to his mug. “There was this CIA Agent - Rawlins - he offered me a deal; an early honourable discharge and a shit-ton of money if I help the CIA run drugs from Afghanistan.”

He fell silent, letting you take in what he’d told you and, in that silence you found yourself edging close to him, trying to wrap your head around it all.

“Someone tried to leak it to Homeland - they thought it was Frankie, so they put out a kill order on him and his family.” There was a noticeable tremor in his voice and your stomach started to tie itself in knots. “I couldn’t let them hurt him. I took a bullet for him, then I told Homeland everything in exchange for immunity.” 

He didn’t need to look at you for you to see just how ashamed he was of himself.

“I did all that, because I wanted a life like this. I wanted to have more than I grew up with. I didn’t want to be that poor kid no one wanted anymore.” He let out a heavy sigh. “That’s why I don’t trust anyone, because I can’t even trust myself not to make stupid fucking choices. And that’s why it was easy for me to believe that you’d use me and hurt me, because I’d probably do the same thing in your position. And, I think some of it was just because I was scared...”

“Scared of what?”

“That I’d hurt you and let you down, like I let Frank down. It was easier to see you as the bad guy because, if I hurt you -”

“You did hurt me though,” you interrupted, not interested in where his pity spiral was taking him. It wouldn’t change anything.

“You’re right and I’m so fucking sorry,” he finally looked at you again, “this isn’t an excuse - there are no excuses for what I did. I fucked things up and you got hurt, and I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Billy,” you hesitated, considering and reconsidering what you wanted to say. As much as he’d hurt you and as much as he’d fucked things up, you didn’t want him to go on hating himself. “You didn’t do anything to Frank except save his life. You weren’t the one that pulled the trigger or made the decision to try to kill him. You protected your friend and you shouldn’t use any of that as a reason not to trust -”

“I should have protected you. I should’ve been there, I should have dealt with the PI and your prick ex-boyfriend. I should’ve protected you instead of thinking you’d betray me.”

“You can’t protect me from that.”

“Yes I can. And I will. No one is going to ruin your new life in Connecticut.”

“Billy -” you sighed but didn’t bother to finish, you knew you’d never change his mind and that the longer you drew this out, the worse it was going to get. But there was one last thing you needed to know before this was finally over. Still, you hesitated for a second, not sure how to ask. “The PI - he told me to ask you where your mother is...”

What little colour there was in his face seemed to drain completely, and the way he leaned on the counter was enough to tell you that you’d caught him completely off-guard.

“She’s taken care of.” An awful mixture of pain, anger and sorrow in his voice caused your stomach to knot.

“You know where she is?” You realised that you’d never even bothered to ask him.

He let out a heavy sigh and you almost wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, but you kept thinking about how adamant the PI was, like he believed knowing would change things completely between you and Billy.

“She’s in a nursing home - has been for the last five years.”

“I thought -” but you quickly realised that you hadn’t thought, you’d assumed, “- I didn’t think you knew where she was.”

“I tracked her down but, after years of using, she’s not exactly all there anymore.” His voice turned cold and detached, like he was trying to mask the pain.

“I don’t understand; why would the PI tell me to ask?”

“Probably because he knows I could afford to have her in the nicest clinic in the state but, instead I’ve put her in some shitty home where she gets the bare minimum.” He shrugged. “Maybe he figured out that I’m keeping her in a shitty nursing home as revenge for how I grew up.”

“Yes, well, maybe that’s what she deserves,” you muttered before you could even think to stop yourself.

It was a cruel thing to say about a woman who’d obviously had her struggles in life, but having seen the damage she’d caused Billy, you didn’t care. If anything, you were shocked that he was willing to look after her at all.

Another silence fell and it felt like it was time to go; you’d both bared your souls and cleared the air as best you could, now it was time to leave. Billy seemed to realise that too as his gaze quickly dropped back to his coffee, not wanting to watch you finally walk out of his life.

You took a breath, gave him one last look, and started towards the elevator with your case. Pushing the call button made it all seem real and your mind raced as you thought over everything that had been said and done and, as you did, a sickening feeling started to fill your stomach.

Not once had he tried to excuse his behaviour or blame you. All he’d ever done was try to explain it, but he’d always taken full responsibility. He’d never tried to shift accountability or gaslight you into taking any of the blame, even though you knew now that there were other ways you could have dealt with things. All Billy had done was show remorse, he hadn’t tried to change your mind or tell you how you felt was wrong, he’d simply accepted the way you had reacted as part of who you were.

And that thought led you to realise something; he’d accepted who you were and the things you struggled with.

But had you ever done the same for him?

He’d never asked about your past because you’d told him not to, but why hadn’t you bothered to ask about his?

All this time, you’d been so focused on yourself and your problems that you’d never really stopped to consider Billy’s issues, and that wasn’t fair. He’d hurt you, yes, but you were starting to realise that you’d hurt him too - that you were hurting him right now.

“I think -” you stopped, though it took a moment before you could bring yourself to look back, “- I think we both fucked up.”

Billy stared at you, confused, head shaking. “No - no, sweetheart, you didn’t fuck up anything.”

Even now, at the end of things, he was still trying to protect you, still trying to keep you from hurting. But it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair to leave him thinking that he was the only one to blame in all of this. You weren’t going to let him shoulder that burden anymore.

“I should’ve asked; about how you got hurt, about your mom, and about the panic attacks...” Without thinking, you put your case down again and took a step away from the elevator. “The truth is, I think it was easier for me to pretend that everything in your life was perfect and simple, but that wasn’t fair on you, Billy.”

“That’s not -” he started but fell silent the moment you held up your hand.

“I acted like I was the only one with baggage and I let you help me feel better, but I never tried to help you.”

“You did, you -” his voice caught and you could tell he was struggling, and that the normally confident man didn’t want a spotlight on his perceived flaws.

You shook your head. “Krista was wrong about you, Billy. You’re not broken, you don’t need to be fixed. You just need someone to see you the way you saw me, and I should have tried harder to be that person for you.”

“No, you -” he shook his head, stepping out of the kitchen and towards you, “- you never needed to -”

He couldn’t find the words and, honestly neither could you. Just the look on his face was enough; that awkward pain that you knew so well because it was the same pain you’d been living with for years. It was selfish of you not to notice it before now, to pretend it wasn’t there and wallow in your own problems. 

Billy stopped in front of you, still obviously struggling to find the words, so you found them for him.

“Ask me to stay,” you whispered.

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“I think that maybe what love is, Billy, it’s fucking things up and hurting each other, and coming back stronger from it. You hurt me but you didn’t break me.” You dared to take a little step closer to him. “I spent so long believing that no one could love me after everything that happened to me, after everything I did. I was so scared of how you’d react, but even when you did find out, you kept fighting for me.”

“Of course I did, because I -” he tried to find the words, but you didn’t blame him when they didn’t come; you knew now that love was a terrifying thing for Billy, but three little words would never say more than the look in his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I - I don’t want to leave.” you confessed.

A sound of absolute relief slipped from his lips but before you could think to question it, Billy had cleared the distance between you and was pulling you against him, kissing you softly. Your arms wrapped around him and held him tight, never wanting to let him go again.

Chapter Twenty-One

END NOTES :  So, finally, there it is; readers past. This is something else I've been a little bit nervous about, so I hope you like! And I hope you like what I've changed for Billy's past too because this has always been sort of my exploration into how Billy might have been if he'd saved Frank and his family, instead of helping Rawlings.

Anyway! As always thank you so much for reading! Don't worry, there's still more to come!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Nineteen

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - some smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some smutty behaviour and vague descriptions of a panic attack. And lots of angst. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~3.9k

A/N : Five weeks after the heartbreak of the last part (sorry again for that). As always thanks so much everyone who's reading every week and all the new people, you're all awesome!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chapter Nineteen

The next week passed as something of a blur.

After leaving Anvil, Karen had taken you back to her apartment and, after listening to you sob for an immeasurable amount of time, she led you to her guest room. And that was pretty much where you stayed for days. Your phone rang and buzzed; he tried to call hundreds of times, sent countless messages before Karen took your phone and blocked his number because, despite how much he’d hurt you, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

A couple of days later he turned up at Karen’s door - she didn’t let him in and you didn’t speak to him, you just heard them arguing while you fought back tears.

You hated him for how broken he’d managed to make you feel, how pathetic and weak you felt because you’d been stupid enough to believe that he could ever feel anything for you. But, as much as you hated him, there was a part of you that still loved him; a part of you that would always love him, a part of you that was worried about him, about how he was handling all of this.

After the first week, you managed to pull yourself together enough to go back to work, knowing that you needed to start earning back the money that you’d given to the PI. You stayed with Karen a little while longer before she told you that you could go home, that Billy understood that you didn’t want to see him and he wouldn’t bother you anymore. That didn’t stop you from changing your phone number though.

The welcome home you received from Tammy was awkward at best but, to her credit, she tried to make you feel better. And, soon enough, you fell back into your old rhythm of working all day and spending your evenings alone in front of the TV. After three weeks, it almost felt like the last few months had never happened and that Billy Russo had been nothing more than a fever dream. 

Eventually, things got easier; you didn’t cry yourself to sleep every night and didn’t wake yourself reaching for his body beside you. It still hurt to think about him - you were certain that it would always hurt - but it became easier to not think about him at all.

Until it came to pick the photos that you wanted to print for your show.

You’d wanted to just cancel the whole thing, but you knew you needed whatever money you could make from it. And there he was, one of the best candid shots you had, catching him as his lips were pulling into a smile - he’d been laughing at something Karen had said during his interview all those months ago. You didn’t want to use the picture but you couldn’t not, not when it was technically one of the best photographs you’d taken recently. Karen had given you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and, somehow, you managed to not break down.

Your brother had asked you to go to Connecticut to stay with him for a while and, without Billy as a reason to say no, you found yourself agreeing. A fresh start was just what you needed, but first you needed money, and that meant using that photo, even though it broke your heart every time you looked at it.

By the time the show rolled around, it had been almost five weeks since you’d last seen Billy so, really, you weren’t expecting what came next. 

Things had been going well, the first hour of the show had been good, everyone seemed to like your work and, for the first time in weeks, you felt almost good about yourself, like things were finally starting to get better.

And that’s when you saw him.

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sight of him, standing in front of a photo of himself, his back to you. His shoulder ticked upwards and, from nowhere, you felt that pang of sorrow in your gut, remembering how his shoulder had been hurt. But there was something else about him, something that felt off. He seemed almost slouched, he looked defeated already before anything had even been said.

Karen appeared at your side, her eyes quickly finding him. 

“I’m sorry, I already told him to leave,” she tried to explain, keeping her voice low, obviously trying to avoid causing a scene, “I can get Frank to come get him so you don’t have to deal with him -”

“No,” you caught yourself saying, shaking your head, “it’s - it’s fine, Karen.”

“You don’t have to talk to him,” she offered softly.

“I think I do. I need this to be over.”

She looked at you for a moment and, obviously, she still had plenty she wanted to say to you but, for whatever reason, she decided not to. She just gave a nod. “I’m here if you need me.”

You hoped that you wouldn’t need her, you hoped that the small amount of peace you’d managed to cultivate over the last five weeks would be enough to face him and finally draw a line under everything that had happened so you could both move on. Moving slowly, you approached him and stopped beside him. 

He gave you a cursory glance before letting his gaze drift back to the photograph. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever made me smile like that,” he told you, already sounding defeated, like he wasn’t there to fight you, or fight for you.

“Maybe you’d be able to smile more if you weren’t always expecting the worst from people,” you answered softly, finding yourself looking at the picture, at the lit-up and carefree expression on his face. It made your heart ache to know he was hurting now, even if he did mostly bring it on himself.

“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me,” Billy sighed.

A silence fell and you both let it linger, neither seeming to know what to say to the other. It felt like there was an insurmountable chasm between the two of you, instead of just three feet. You had thought that you would have more to say to him, you thought you’d vent your anger and frustration, and tell him all the things you couldn’t quite say the last time you’d spoken but, now, you just felt empty. It felt pointless. Billy had left a hole in your life and you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from it.

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered. “I know it doesn’t mean anything now and it doesn’t fix what I broke, but I - I shouldn’t’ve jumped to conclusions, I should’ve talked to you first.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“No,” he hesitated awkwardly, finally forcing himself to look at you, “I thought you should know that I read the file...”

It should have surprised you half as much as it did - you’d left him with a file containing decades worth of information on you, of course he looked through it. But, still, the thought made you feel light headed. Even now, when he no longer meant anything to you, you didn’t want Billy to know about your past.

“I need some air,” you muttered, turning and heading towards the fire escape. Billy waited for a moment before deciding to follow. 

You pushed the heavy door open and stepped out onto the metal balcony, shivering the moment the cold air hit your skin. Billy followed after, letting the door close behind him and, suddenly, everything felt so quiet. You looked down at the street below and, then, looked up at the ominous clouds - anything to avoid looking at Billy.

“I would have helped pay off the PI if you’d told me,” he finally broke the silence.

“I told you, there are things about my past that I didn’t want you to know,” you pulled your arms across your chest as you turned back to finally face him, trying to ward off the cold.

“You didn’t have to tell me about any of it. I still would have helped.” He told you with that oh-so familiar stubborn tone. “There’s nothing in that file that changes how I feel about you.”

(Feel. Present tense.)

You shook your head.

“It’s not that simple, Billy. That file doesn’t tell the whole story and even if it did, I didn’t want you to know.” As much as you might have wanted to, you couldn’t keep the frustration from slipping into your tone. But, still, you were taken aback - you’d always assumed he’d want nothing to do with you if he found out anything from your past.

“I’ll never ask. You never have to tell me, I -”

“Billy -” you tried to interrupt him, tried to stop that train of thought before he got too carried away, but it was already too late.

“Just tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t think you can fix this.” You told him and your stomach knotted when you saw a flicker of pain on his face.

“So you won’t even let me try?”

“I think it’ll hurt too much if you do.”

Another silence fell and you watched as Billy struggled, obviously fighting with himself, trying not to say the wrong thing and ruin this. You hated seeing him like that; you’d never seen him look so uncertain and unsettled.

“You’re not the only one in pain,” he finally muttered, “what you said, about me being able to turn my emotions off, that - I can’t do that, not with you. Not with us. Not having you in my life hurts too much; I can’t sleep, can’t eat. I keep playing that moment over and over, wishing I’d done things differently...”

“I don’t want to make you feel like that but -”

“I know I fucked up, I know I promised you that I wouldn’t but -” for a second he looked like he was really struggling to get his thoughts in order and force the words from his lips, “- but you don’t know about my past and the shit I’ve been through either. It’s hard for me to trust people.”

You realised that he was right; you didn’t know much about his past, not really, and you’d never really asked. Beyond the snippets that he’d told you about his childhood and his mother, and what little you knew about his relationship with Krista, you never really tried to find out anything about him. Honestly, you’d always just assumed that he was like you, that he wanted to keep his past in the past.

But, looking at him now, maybe that wasn’t the case.

“Maybe that’s why this would never work,” you sighed.

“Don’t say that,” his eyes found yours and he looked at you like it was the only thing he was certain of, “just because this isn’t easy doesn’t mean we should just give up.”

“You did give up, you thought I -”

“I was wrong, and I’m so fucking sorry, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting for you.” He dared to take a step closer to you.

The way he was looking at you caused a shiver to run up your spine. You could see the desperation in his eyes and, a part of you, still wanted nothing more than to reach for him, to just give into the moment. But you had too much self-respect for that. (Or maybe it was fear, maybe you were just scared of taking him back and him hurting you again?)

“You said you loved me,” his voice turned softer and the space between you seemed to shrink even more.

“I shouldn’t have told you like that.”

“You didn’t mean it?” His voice threatened to break.

It would be easy to lie, to say you hadn’t meant a word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that. You stayed silent for a few seconds, letting the question and your indecision hang in the air between you.

“Of course I meant it, I just - I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that,” you sighed heavily, “I was hurting and I said it because I wanted to hurt you back.”

“It did hurt,” he confessed quietly, “but it hurts more knowing that you feel like that and don’t even want to see me.”

“Billy -” you tried, but there were no words. There was nothing that you could tell him to  change any of it or make either of you feel better, it felt too late for any of that.

“I can’t let this be over,” he told you, and the silence that followed felt deafening. The air between you seemed to crack with the sort of tension that you wanted nothing more than to ignore and push aside. Despite everything you’d told him, something inside you wanted him to fight for you, wanted him to prove you wrong and show you that he could love you despite what he now thought he knew about your past. 

When you didn’t immediately tell him no, when you didn’t tell him that things were over, you allowed him hope that prompted him to move. 

Before you knew what he was doing, Billy had cleared the small distance between you, kissing you so suddenly that all you could think to do was respond. You got caught up in the moment, fingers tugging at his hair, pulling him against you. It felt so good, so right to be in his arms again, that you barely noticed him lifting you, sitting you on the cold railing. Your legs parted instinctively, letting him press closer still as the kiss turned hungry and desperate, and you could feel how the moment was already affecting him.

You didn’t even realise that he’d undone his zipper until you felt his cold fingers slide beneath your dress and up your thighs, pulling your panties to the side. Every shred of common sense you possessed told you to stop, to tell Billy to stop, but when you felt his cock start to nudge its way inside you, all you could do was moan against his lips and grip his shoulders as he filled you inch by inch.

Of course, you knew it was wrong to give him any hope that he could repair your relationship - just one more inch, you told yourself, then you’d tell him to stop - but it wasn’t long until every throbbing inch of him was buried inside you. And it felt good. It felt better than it should. Even the ache of your walls stretching to accommodate him after so long without him felt amazing. You’d missed the feeling almost as much as you’d missed him.

“Billy -” you uttered breathlessly against his lips, not getting the chance to say much more before his tongue slipped between your lips again. You let him kiss you, let him slowly draw back his hips before pitching forwards again and drawing another moan from you, your walls slickening around him, coating his cock and letting him move with ease. “Billy,” you tried again, tugging his hair, trying to make him look at you while your pussy continued to tremble as he moved, “Billy, we can’t -”

“Yes we can,” he kept moving, the wet heat of your body betraying you. Your mind wanted to say no, but your body and the way it moved against him said yes. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He kissed you again and, this time, it was almost enough to break your resolve, the steady thrust of his hips filling you with his cock so deeply that you almost lost your mind. Moaning against his lips, your back arched, legs wrapping around his hips as you took him deeper. Yes, you wanted to moan, fuck me harder.

“Billy, stop -” you managed to gasp, finally coming to your senses.

Billy stopped immediately and you felt his body tense beneath your hands. He didn’t pull out or put you down but, similarly, you didn’t release your hold on him. You could still feel him throbbing, just as unfulfilled as you were.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he repeated, his forehead pressed against yours, lips lingering so close that every word he spoke caused them to brush against yours. “Tell me you haven’t missed me.”

Of course he wanted to try and talk while he was still inside you and all you could think about was how you were practically dripping all over his cock. It wasn’t fair - it almost made you want him to finish before having the difficult conversation with you, but you knew that if he came inside you, or if he made you come, you’d never be able to turn him away.

“Of course I missed you, Billy,” you sighed, “but you hurt me, and fucking you isn’t going to fix that.”

“Then tell me what is,” he asked in an anguished tone that you’d never heard from him before.

“Put me down.”

Finally, he relented, pulling out and lowering you back to the ground, leaving your body aching and empty, unfulfilled and wanting. He turned from you to fix his clothes and you did the same, waiting for him to turn back, but the moment never came.

“You said you loved me,” his awkward and broken tone said it all, betraying his agony, and your heart sank, knowing that you’d just let things become a hundred times worse.

“I do, but what you did was -”

“You think I don’t know how fucked up it was?” His breath caught uncomfortably and you saw him shudder as his fingers ran through his hair. There was shame in his voice as he continued; “when Frank told me he caught you paying the PI, I felt like I was dying, it hurt so much. I thought you were -”

Another ragged breath escaped him and his hands moved to grip the railing.

“I told you that I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me,” you told him, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I know and I’m so sorry,” his voice turned strained, like he was struggling to speak, and not just because of how upset he was.

You’d seen this before, that night in his bedroom. Panic, anxiety; he was struggling. But, as much as you wanted to reach for him, to hold him until it passed, you knew he wouldn’t want that and that it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t keep doing this.

“Tomorrow at noon, meet me at the coffee shop you took me to the day we met,” you offered as calmly as you could manage. “We can talk then. I can’t promise that things will go back to how they were, but we can at least talk, okay?”

“Really?” He still kept his back to you.

“Really,” you told him, knowing you needed to leave before you dared to reach for him. “I need to go back inside, are you gonna be alright?”

“I’m fine,” he forced the words in one shuddered breath.

“You’re not fine, Billy. And, I think maybe that’s something we need to talk about tomorrow too.” He didn’t answer but you heard him force another breath. “Just... go home and take care of yourself, okay?”

Billy grumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, but you knew you couldn’t stay any longer; for his good and your own. But, still, against your better judgement, you reached for him, softly placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. For a split-second, you were sure that you felt him relax, but the moment you let go, that awkward tension filled his body again. 

Between that moment and pulling open the door, you changed your mind about leaving him at least a hundred times, hating leaving him like that, not knowing how long the episode would take to pass or if it would pass at all. But Billy wasn’t the only one who was hurting, and all the pain and emptiness that you’d spent weeks trying to overcome came flooding back, leaving you feeling more broken and miserable than ever.

The door closed behind you, separating you and Billy, and leaving you feeling just as alone as you’d felt after leaving Anvil that day. You froze, torn between going back to Billy and walking away, filled with an aching and a longing that only he could cause, and stuck with a terrible realisation; you still loved him, you were still in love with him, and no amount of pain or heartbreak would ever change that.

“Are you alright?” You didn’t notice Karen at your side until she spoke and you struggled to think of a way to answer her. Her eyes drifted to the door. “Is he out there? What did he say to you? Did he upset you? Do you want me to -”

“No,” you finally managed to force the word, “it’s fine he just - he needs a minute and then he’s gonna leave.”

As shaken as you were by everything that had happened, you didn’t want Karen marching onto the fire escape and making Billy feel worse.

“What did he say to you?” She asked, placing a hand on your elbow and slowly leading you away from the door and towards the bathroom so you could pull yourself together in private.

“He said he wants to fix things and that he’s sorry.”

“Did you tell him about Connecticut?” She asked as the bathroom door swung closed behind you both.

You let out a sigh, leaning against the sink and looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to tell him that you were planning to leave New York and, once Karen had mentioned it, you felt sick. You’d agreed to meet him for coffee tomorrow, you’d given him a reason to hope, and that had been needlessly cruel of you.

“No, I didn’t...” you reluctantly admitted.

“You need to tell him,” Karen told you with an enviable certainty, “I know he hurt you, but it’s not fair to let him think he has a chance to fix things when you’re leaving.”

“I know, I just...” you shook your head, “what if I’m wrong about him? What if leaving is the wrong thing to do?”

“Only you can decide that. Billy is - he’s complicated and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I can’t tell you what to do, but I know you shouldn’t stay unless you’re certain.”

“You’re right,” though your tone gave away how much you hated it, “I can’t keep expecting him to change for me.” You took a few deep breaths and returned your attention to the mirror, taking a moment to fix your hair. “I guess I should get back out there and try to sell some pictures.”

“Atta girl,” Karen smiled, “you get back to selling and I’ll go see what’s left behind the bar for us.”

When you stepped out of the bathroom, your eyes moved the fire exit for a second, wondering if he was still out there, but you quickly pushed the thought away; you’d see him tomorrow and, this time, you’d tell him that you were leaving and that it was over between you. The thought made your chest ache, but that ache was bearable, unlike the pain he’d caused you. 

Forcing a smile to your lips, you started doing the rounds, talking to anyone and everyone who wanted to know about your work, distracting yourself from thoughts of Billy and tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty

END NOTES : I can't say anything because I don't want to spoil anything that's going to happen. But, if anyone is interested, this fic is now about 80k long and there's only (maybe) five chapters left (which is to say I have five planned but whether or not some of those will need breaking up into smaller chapters idk).

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part and that it caused less emotional whiplash than the last one (sorry again for that). Thanks for reading, and thanks as always for the likes, comments and reblogs. And, if you're new to this story, hello and thanks for giving it a look! <3

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

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[hungermakesmonsters]

So, chapter 18 of CMIYC gave me whiplash -

In all earnest though, I stumbled upon this fic monday night and then yesterday it consumed my entire day. I had to force myself to put it down to actually work lol and I finsihed 18 at around half past midnight yesterday evening.

IT'S SO GOOD!!! just with a few sentences it has managed to slither it's way into my all-time favourites list. I can't wait to see where it will go!!! Keep up the good work (bc I need more)! Thank you for your writing 💗

Have a fab day!

😅😅😅 yeah I think chapter 18 got a lot of people like that, which is why I was nervous about it.

But thank you for your kind words! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far (emotional whiplash notwithstanding 😅) and I hope you enjoy what I've got planned for the rest of it!!

💜💜💜