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mrsalwayswrite · 4 days ago

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The beach scene! *chef's kiss* i needed that sweetness and small amount of fluff in my life to pretend everything is gonna be okay between these two! Ughhhh....communication, people!!! Just freaking talk!!

And then the ending...any softness is gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Erased. And now my heart hurts again. 💔

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Twenty

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Some smut. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.5k

A/N : 😅 as of this chapter, this is now my longest fic...

Master List

Chapter Twenty

Suffice to say, in the hours that followed, you had a lot of time to think over and regret everything you’d said.

A lot of time to think about the dull ache across your backside and the way he’d taken complete control of everything the moment he’d noticed how exhausted you were. You thought about everything he’d said as he’d spanked you, punished you for not taking better care of yourself.

It was only now, hours later, that you realised that there had been genuine note of concern in his tone.

Was that why you ached so much? Had the severity of the punishment reflected his worry?

But it wasn’t the spanking you wanted to linger on. It was everything that came after.

How long had he spent with you bent over his desk, fingers driving you to the brink of insanity? How long had he spent making sure that, when you came, your orgasm would be enough to completely clear your head of all your doubts and worries so he could take care of you?

Everything he’d done had seemed so well measured, like he understood exactly what you had needed from him.

Even the way he’d devoured you with his lips and tongue before lulling you to sleep with his fingers inside of you had given you the sense of security you’d needed in order to fall asleep.

Whatever had happened in Vegas, it seemed like it had made him want to try harder with you. He’d been open to talking, to trying to figure things out, and you’d yelled at him because...

... because you’d turned the thing between you into something else in your head. You’d allowed yourself to feel something for him, and it had left you feeling raw and confused when he’d disappeared to Vegas. You’d lashed about because you knew he’d never want you the way that you wanted him.

But that wasn’t his fault.

When Billy emerged, he didn’t look much better than you felt, but he seemed to have gotten some sleep. One of the perks of Marine training, you supposed. He could sleep under any circumstance.

Something pained flashed on his face when he saw you, sitting at the table with a cold mug of coffee in front of you.

“I’ve ordered breakfast,” he said as he moved into the kitchen and started making a fresh pot of coffee. “If we’re on the road by 10 we should be there before midafternoon.”

You watched blankly for a few seconds, nodding along as if last night never happened.

But it had happened, and you couldn’t just ignore it.

You were sick of ignoring things.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “About last night. What I said... I didn’t mean it to come out like that, I never meant -”

“I think you did,” he interrupted. “But I get it. I think after we get through this weekend, we should have that talk...”

“I shouldn’t’ve snapped, I -”

“It’s okay,” he said, managing to sound completely calm. “We don’t have to talk about this while you’re still tired. We’re going to go to the Hamptons and have a nice, relaxing weekend. Then when we get home, we’re going to talk.”

“Just like that?” You asked. “You can ignore this for a whole weekend?”

Billy flashed you an unexpected smile that had your stomach twisting in knots. “Yes, because you were wrong about one thing last night; I do know what I want.”

Before you could ask what that meant, the elevator pinged and breakfast was delivered.

While Billy dealt with paying, you stood, got yourself a fresh, hot mug of coffee and grabbed some plates.

You didn’t talk much over breakfast - you were both too tired and once the food was in front of you, you both seemed to realise that you’d gone to bed without eating last night. Besides, what was there to say? When you really thought about it, you knew what Billy wanted; the VDK contract, and you supposed that meant putting up with you and your outbursts until he got it.

After breakfast, you went and took a long hot shower, soothing all the aches and stiffness from your body. (And, if you were entirely honest, you wasted at least a couple of minutes staring at yourself in the mirror, at the weary look on your face, and the faint teeth marks Billy had left on your breast.)

When you finally managed to pull yourself from the bathroom, you headed to your room and packed a bag. Over-packed, really. You had no idea what Catherine had planned and you didn’t want to be caught out.

Billy had to bite back a laugh when he saw you wheeling your small suitcase out of your room.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” he asked and, for a few sweet seconds, you were able to forget how awkward things were between you.

“She never said what we’d be doing - I don’t want to be caught out wearing jeans if everyone else is dressed up,” you said in a grumble, trying to keep yourself from smiling.

You stepped onto the elevator and quickly patted your jacket pockets, making sure you had your phone and purse. You did, and you’d already double checked you’d packed everything else you needed.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said suddenly as the elevator started to descend.

“But... but this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” You asked, confused. “We’re getting close to the Van Der Koy’s now, maybe they’ll -”

“It’s a whole weekend,” he interrupted softly. “You’ll have to be around me for a whole weekend.”

Your heart lurched in your chest as you realised what he was trying to say. He was giving you the opportunity to back out if you thought being with him for a whole weekend was going to be too much.

“Billy, I -” you didn’t know what to say or how to explain that the issue wasn’t being around him. You just sighed. You’d tell him when you got back. “I want to go.”

“Okay, just - if you change your mind, let me know,” he said. “We can leave whenever you want.”

You would do no such thing, but you appreciated the gesture.

For a moment, you wondered if he was saying it because he didn’t want to go, and he was expecting you to make him the same offer. You didn’t. You stayed completely silent.

You got off the elevator in the underground parking lot and paused after opening the passenger side door. There was a pillow waiting for you on your seat.

Billy caught your confused look and explained; “it’s a three hour drive. I thought you might want to try and get some rest on the way.”

You didn’t think that you would but you were so exhausted - from last night and everything that had happened in the week preceding it - that you drifted off within twenty minutes. Billy woke you almost three hours later with a gentle squeeze on your thigh.

You blinked groggily, feeling like you’d only managed five minutes of sleep, not hours. But, there you were, in front of one of the largest houses you’d ever seen in your life.

“Are we there?” You asked, struggling to completely wake up.

“Yeah,” Billy said with one of those gentle smiles. “You slept pretty much all the way.

“Oh,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks warm, “sorry.”

��Why are you apologising?”

“You had to drive all this way without company...”

“I’m just glad you got some sleep,” he said. “Anyway, you probably wouldn’t’ve survived three hours of me singing along to the radio...”

Something not unlike a smile tugged at your lips but you felt... drained. Not just tired in the sense that you were exhausted from not sleeping, but something bone deep, like your whole body had had enough.

And, of course, Billy was quick to notice.

“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching across to press his hand to your cheek. “You look a bit... out of it.”

“Must just have been the nap,” you answered, leaning into his touch. “Hopefully it won’t be a late night tonight...”

“Don’t worry about that. The moment you get tired, we’ll go to bed.”

We. He’d said we, and - fuck, it hadn’t even occurred to you that you’d be sharing a room, sharing a bed with Billy for the whole weekend.

You let the silence hang so long that Billy continued; “no matter what’s going on tonight, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you feel, you tell me if you get tired, okay.”

While part of you wanted to bristle, to tell him you could look after yourself, you just didn’t have the energy for it. So, you nodded. You needed to work as a team this weekend, and that meant you couldn’t be annoying each other or arguing over silly little things.

As you got out of the car, you were greeted by two members of the Van Der Koy’s house staff. (They had house staff - a fact that had you fighting against letting your jaw drop.) One took the keys from Billy to take the car to the garage at the back of the property, while the other took your bags and led you inside.

“Ms Van Der Koy and some of her guests are having lunch on the veranda should you wish to join them,” he explained, giving a wave of his hand in one direction while he led you in the other. “Your room is in the west wing of the house.”

The house had wings - you didn’t even know what to do with that sort of information.

If you hadn’t been so tired, you might have paid attention to the artwork on the walls and the ornate bannisters as you were led upstairs. It really was a stunning house. But you were so tired that you barely even noticed that, some time after leaving the car and entering the house, Billy had taken hold of your hand.

A door was opened and you were led into a bedroom that was almost the same size as your old apartment. The man showing you around said something about the bathroom and if you needed more bed linen or towels, but you barely heard it. Your attention was fixed on the double doors that led out onto a balcony and the view of the ocean beyond it.

Once you were alone, your hand slipped from Billy’s and you made your way to those doors, stepping outside.

The sea breeze greeted you and you closed your eyes, leaning against the railing. Somewhere below you could hear the faint sounds of laughter and conversation and, sure enough, when you looked down, you could see the veranda, a long table filled with food and the people sitting around it.

Catherine caught your gaze and offered you a wave just as Billy came to stand behind you, caging you in with arms on either side of you and resting his chin on your shoulder. It wasn’t until you waved back at Catherine that he noticed you had an audience.

“This is nice,” he said, his gaze fixed on the water.

“Yeah,” you agreed, letting yourself lean back against him. “If I ever get rich enough, I’m going to buy a place with a view like this.”

From the corner of your eyes, you saw his lips curve into a gentle smile.

“Do you think they’d care if we stayed up here all weekend?” He asked.

His breath tickled your ear and, despite everything, you felt a longing ache between your thighs, a want that you still refused to put a name to. You knew that you could tell him or that you could press your body back against his and show him, and that he would lead you back into the bedroom and give you what you craved but... but it wouldn’t have been fair to him.

Fortunately, before you could give in to temptation, his stomach gave a low grumble. You laughed and turned in his arms, almost forgetting the people on the veranda below, not caring that they could see you wrap your arms around his waist and press a playful kiss to his nose.

“I think your stomach would care if we stayed up here all weekend,” you said, trying desperately to ignore the way his eyes sparked with desire.

“Why? There’s plenty for me to eat right here, little dove.”

Your pulse quickened at his words and the longing ache only grew as his smile turned into a playful smirk. And - fuck, it was nice. After all the awkwardness and the arguments, it was nice to see the playful side of him again. It was what you wanted, what you needed to make it through the weekend.

Without thinking you reached for him, cupping his cheek, then letting your fingers slip through his hair. His body shuddered against yours and he dared to step a little closer, pressing you back against the railing.

“I thought you would’ve been bored of eating the same thing by now,” you said playfully despite how breathless you felt.

“Never,” he said in little more than a whisper.

Then he was kissing you softly, his tongue slipping between your lips as his body crowded closer to yours. It was so simple, so easy to just lose yourself in him and pretend like nothing else existed, to live in the moment and imagine that this could be your life.

But it couldn’t last, not when you had an audience.

“Billy,” you murmured against his lips. “They can see us...”

For the first time, it didn’t even cross your mind that any of it might have been for their benefit, that it was part of the act. Not when you could feel the press of his half-hard cock against your stomach.

He pulled back a fraction, pressing his forehead to yours. He took a slow breath, trying to calm himself. “We should... we should get changed for lunch.”

“Okay.”

But neither of you moved, neither tried to pull away. Whatever you’d managed to find in that moment of peace, neither of you wanted to leave it and return to the awkwardness between you.

Billy let out a soft sigh, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted your head and reignited the kiss.

The world around you shrank until there was nothing but you, Billy, and the gentle lap of the ocean against the shoreline.

Perfect.

It was perfect.

You could feel his want and, even though you didn’t understand it, it settled something inside of you. He wanted you. And you -

The smouldering ache in your core had intensified and you could feel yourself getting wetter with every stroke of his tongue against yours. A soft moan spilled from you and into his mouth, and he smiled against your lips.

“I never thought you’d be into exhibitionism, little dove.” There was something teasing in his words, something testing, like he wanted to see how far you’d be willing to take things.

Part of you want to rise to his challenge, to continue to escalate the moment, but you knew you couldn’t.

With a sigh of your own, you untangled yourself from him but, when you went to pull away, Billy stopped you with a hand on your cheek, frowning as he looked into your eyes.

“Let me know if you get tired,” he said.

You didn’t understand it until you were in the ensuite bathroom and you could see yourself in the mirror. You still looked exhausted. A little extra blush on your cheeks helped brighten your face, but there was nothing to be done about the bags under your eyes. You could only hope that the cute, pale blue sundress you pulled on would be enough to draw people's attention from your tired eyes.

Billy had changed while you were in the bathroom, donning a pair of linen pants and a short sleeve shirt that fitted him so perfectly that all you could think about doing was tearing it off him. As good as he usually looked in his dark, sharp suits, there was something about vacation Billy that made your legs feel weak beneath you.

He looked up from his phone and didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dragged over every inch of your body. A shiver ran up your spine, but you didn’t hesitate when he offered you his hand.

“Come on, before you drag me onto the balcony for more making out,” he said, smirking.

“Me?” You matched his smirk with one of your own. “I’m not the one with control issues.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You didn’t ask what he meant, knowing that he was, at least on some level, right. Your own issues with control had put you in this strange predicament with him and, honestly, you didn’t want to ruin the weekend thinking about it. You were supposed to be having fun, relaxing.

You were supposed to be enjoying his company before going home and finally talking about what was going on between you.

The veranda was easy to find, despite the size of the house, and you were greeted by the Van Der Koys and their guests. Catherine and Leah rose to meet you, the latter grinning, no doubt amused by your little show on the balcony.

Despite the extra blush on your cheeks, Catherine noticed how exhausted you were and ushered you towards the table, and told you to help yourself to food. As you sat and got yourself comfortable, Billy grabbed a glass and poured you a cold glass of juice. Your cheeks warmed at the gesture and the way Catherine gave him an approving nod as she took her seat opposite you.

She offered you both a glass of wine - you refused on account of being tired, but Billy graciously accepted.

“You should eat,” Billy said softly, just to you and not for show.

You reached for a bagel across the table, but even that had you feeling exhausted. So, again, Billy took over, filling a plate with things you both liked and placing it between you.

Conversations continued and, slowly but surely, you were introduced to the guests you didn’t know. Billy had a passing familiarity with most, but a lot of them seemed far more interested in you. You were the new curiosity, you supposed, something completely unknown to them.

Billy’s hand found your thigh, anchoring both of you in the moment, as you weathered the onslaught of questions.

Despite feeling hungry, you picked at your food, and it wasn’t long until you were leaning against Billy, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You look tired,” Catherine said, gaze lingering on you before moving to Billy.

“Not surprising,” Faye’s husband, John, offered. Faye gave him a nudge and look that you didn’t understand. “I mean because it’s such a long drive from the city.”

“You’ll have to come in the jet with us next time,” Catherine said.

“I wouldn’t want to miss listening to Billy singing along with the radio in the car,” you joked, prompting Billy to almost choke on his wine.

A ripple of laughter ran around the table. Billy let out a contented sigh and pressed a kiss to your forehead. And it was nice. It felt real. For a moment, you could actually see this as your life.

Conversation ebbed and flowed around you, never feeling stilted. You sat back and continued to nibble at food (mostly the cookies) while Billy spoke enough for the both of you. You found out that he loved baseball - it was so strange to you that it had never come up between you before - and you stayed silent, listening to him talk all about it, even though you had no idea what any of it meant.

Now and then, his attention returned to you and he’d mutter in your ear, making sure you were okay, asking if you were tired, or wanted another drink. Each time you said you were fine, but you were relieved when, after a couple of hours, lunch was over and the group started to disperse.

You were given free rein to wander the grounds but, the moment Billy’s had was in yours, there was only one place you wanted to go.

Catherine pointed out some steep and winding steps that led down to the beach and you immediately started towards them, pulling Billy behind you. His hand held yours tight as you navigated the stairs, making sure you couldn’t slip and fall in your excitement.

By the time you reached the sand, you were out of breath, but smiling widely.

When you turned to face Billy you realised he was smiling too and -

Oh.

The late afternoon sun illuminated his face, casting shadows in such a way that left you feeling like you were seeing him for the first time.

He was so handsome.

No, beautiful.

“What?” He asked, and you realised you’d been staring.

You bit your lip and shook your head.

“Tell me,” he said, stepping closer. When you still didn’t answer, he pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist. “What were you thinking about?”

“You. I was thinking about how much all of this suits you...”

“Just me?”

A small laugh escaped you and you shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t get used to living like this.”

He stared at you and, for a moment, you dared to hope that he’d tell you that you could have this, that you could share a life like this. Together. Instead, he kissed you softly and, without a word, started to walk along the beach with you.

You fell into step beside him, slipping off your sandals to enjoy the sand between your toes. Every now and then, you’d allow your gaze to drift to him.

And Billy noticed. You knew that he did, because the corner of his lips would twitch every time you let yourself look at him. But he didn’t say anything. He managed to stay quiet for at least ten minutes before opening his mouth again.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” he said, voice low but playful.

You gave a thoughtful hum and nudged him with your elbow. “There’s those control issues again...”

“You want to see control issues?”

His lips pulled into a smirk and, before you could answer, you were swept off your feet. You squealed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he kicked off his shoes and started to wade out into the water.

“What are you -” just the look on his face was enough to tell you his plan. “No, Billy! Don’t you dare!”

He laughed and you squealed again as he dipped you so low that your toes touched the icy cold water. Then he turned, spinning around with you in his arms. You squealed and laughed, and gripped him so tight, like you never wanted to let him go.

It was ridiculous.

And stupid.

And... perfect.

You pressed your face against his neck, the thought threatening to pull you under. It was perfect. He was perfect.

You...

Fuck.

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

It wasn’t just some silly feeling rattling around in your chest, it wasn’t a feeling of like that you’d allowed to go too far. You loved Billy Russo.

And, when you dared to lift your head and you saw the beautiful smile on his lips and the ways his eyes seemed to shine with happiness, you kissed him. You kissed him so hard that you hoped he could feel every emotion that was racing through your body.

When you pulled back, breathless and clinging to him, you were sure that he understood.

But he didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

He stepped out of the water and placed your feet back on the sand, and you barely bit back a laugh at the state of his pants, soaked from ankle to thigh.

“They’re going to think I tried to drown you,” you said, smirking.

Without warning, he kicked the water, sending a splash of cold water your way, catching the front of your dress.

“Can’t have them thinking I didn’t fight back, little dove.”

You retaliated instantly, kicking water his way. Then, before he could splash back, you took off running down the beach.

Billy laughed and called your name before starting after you. It didn’t take much for him to catch up, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you around to face him. The sudden turn had you stumbling, reaching out and grabbing hold of him as you fell backwards, pulling him down with you.

For a few seconds all you could do was stare up at him, the weight of his body keeping you trapped beneath him, his warmth seeping through your dress. You were so close to him, so lost in his dark eyes that you barely even noticed your own ragged breathing.

But Billy noticed.

“You okay?” He asked.

It wasn’t the sort of concern you wanted to hear from him while he was on top of you.

“Fine, I -” but you could barely get the words out.

He pulled away and knelt beside you, helping you to sit up.

Your lungs felt tight in your chest, heavy as you tried to catch your breath. Running had been a stupid idea. When he cupped your cheek and looked at you, the little spark of joy inside of you fizzled out. Your carefree, happy moment was over and Billy was back to worrying about you.

You wanted to say something but a tickle in your chest had you coughing awkwardly, your treacherous lungs betraying you and ruining any chance of salvaging the moment.

“Let’s head back,” he said.

He helped you to your feet and neither of you really spoke again until you got back to the room and, despite your weak protests, Billy got you to lay down for a couple of hours. You even managed to sleep for a little while, despite the soft clacking of keys from Billy’s laptop as he tried to get some work done.

You were still tired when it was time to get up and you started to think that, maybe, it wasn’t just exhaustion. But, you didn’t mention it to Billy. He’d fussed you enough and you just wanted him to relax and enjoy the weekend.

After a quick, cold shower to help wake you up, you found one of the dresses you’d packed and got ready for the evening.

While lunch had been casual, dinner was a more opulent affair.

You found your way to the large dining room and were seated near the top of the table by the Van Der Koy family; you had Leah next to you, while Faye and John sat opposite. Within five minutes of sitting down, your hand had found Billy’s on the table and you were trying not to grip too tightly.

Again, you found yourself trying to keep up with the conversation, trying to join in when you could, but you were so tired.

Billy watched you from the corner of his eye as you moved food around your plate and took small bites here and there. You were hungry, but eating felt like a lot of effort. Billy’s attention became more pointedly fixed on you when dessert was brought out, and you found yourself clearing your plate just to keep him from worrying.

Once dinner was over, the party moved into the drawing room and split. John wanted to play poker and took most of the men, including Billy, to the far side of the room. Catherine hooked an arm though yours and led you to the otherside of the large room, and sat down with you.

For a few moments, you were too fixed on your surroundings - the large room filled with books, a pool table, and a small manned bar - that you barely noticed the way she was examining you.

“Is everything okay?” Catherine finally asked you. “Even by your usual standards you’re being awfully quiet.”

You managed to force a smile as you looked at her, realising that it wasn’t just her eyes on you. Everyone seemed to have an interest in you and what you might say.

“I’m fine, it’s just - it’s been a long week,” you said, hoping it would be enough. “Billy was in Vegas until Wednesday, and I’ve never stayed in the penthouse on my own...”

“How long have you been living together now?” Faye asked.

“Almost three weeks.”

“And how are you finding it?” Catherine asked.

“It’s -” you thought for a moment about lying, but decided against it, “- it’s been an adjustment. We’re both used to living alone, but I don’t regret it. I like the extra time we get together.”

“When you’re married, you’ll have to convince William to look into summer properties here,” Catherine said.

“Mother,” Faye muttered, “they haven’t been together that long.”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction. Though, when you actually thought about it, your cheeks had already felt warm. You felt warm. Stifled even. So, you felt a momentary flicker of relief when you noticed Billy stand and head towards the doors leading out onto the veranda while the rest of the poker players split to refill their glasses and check in with their partners.

Catherine gave you a knowing smile as you excused yourself and followed after Billy to get some fresh air.

You found him leaning against the railing, looking out at the water below and framed by moonlight. He turned at the click of your heels on the concrete and in the gloom, you saw him manage a half-hearted smile before turning away again

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

Billy let out a slow breath. “I forgot how exhausting some people can be.”

Something flared inside of you at the annoyed, tired tone of his voice. Standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. You’d hoped that holding him would be enough to settle whatever it was that had upset him, but the tension lingered in his body. And you hated it. You hated knowing any part of him wasn’t entirely happy.

So, you decided to fix it.

“What are you -” he started to ask the moment your hand slipped to his pants and started to pull down his fly.

“Making you feel better,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his neck.

Billy fell silent, letting you unzip his pants, and pull his cock out. It was amazing how easy it was to get him hard. All it took was a couple shifts of your hand to have him throbbing in your grasp.

“No blowjob this time?” He dared to ask, a hint of that familiar playfulness returning to his voice.

Your hand twisted around his shaft and Billy groaned.

“Now who’s being an exhibitionist?” You said softly into his ear.

His hands gripped the rails, and you could tell that it was taking all of his restraint to not thrust into your grip. Your hand moved faster, knowing that you didn’t have time to tease or draw things out. It was about relief, not pleasure. You had no idea how long it had been since Billy had come, but from his laboured breathing it was clear he needed this.

You tried not to think about yourself, about how wet you were getting. You just focused on Billy, the chill of the sea breeze, and the way moans blended with the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

“Fuck, I -” he groaned, but whatever he might have wanted to tell you was cut off.

His cock twitched and pulsed in your hand, and you moved faster, making sure to wring every drop of pleasure you could from the moment. It had only taken a couple of minutes, but Billy was left panting, his body shuddering against yours.

Once he’d tucked himself back into his pants, he turned to you, his dark eyes seeming almost pitch black in the moonlight.

An arm wrapped around you, pulling you close as you near-drowned in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he muttered softly, cupping your cheek.

His thumb brushed over your lower lip before slipping into your mouth and, instinctively, you started to suck it, pulling a low rumble from him as your tongue swirled around it. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, still full of need.

Then a thought occurred.

You finally figured it out.

His thumb in your mouth... he was trying to keep himself from crossing a line and kissing you. He was following your stupid rule.

It hit you like a brick to think of all the times he’d slipped his thumb or his fingers between your lips, all the times he’d looked at you like he was barely holding himself back. He’d been struggling with it for weeks - since your night out with Frank and Karen.

How could you have been so stupid?

How had you not seen what was staring you right in the face?

You reached for him, pressing your palm to his cheek, mirroring the way he was holding you, while your other hand pulled his away from your face.

“What -”

You cut him off, pressing your lips to him and giving him the kiss that he’d been craving. He froze for a second before parting his lips and -

“We’re about to deal another hand if you want to try to win back some of your money, Russo,” a voice called from the doorway.

You pulled back from Billy, the full weight of what you’d just done crashing down on top of you. Billy looked torn, like he couldn’t decide between kissing you again and going back inside to play cards. So, you made the choice for him.

“We should head back inside,” you said, shivering slightly.

It was that shiver that had Billy agreeing.

Neither of you said a word or addressed the line that had just been irrevocably crossed. He simply pressed a kiss to your forehead as you stepped inside and let you return to your seat across from Faye and Catherine.

You spent the rest of the night staring at him, exhaustion tightening its grip on you with every passing minute. By the time people started to call it a night, you were more than ready for bed.

Billy watched as you slipped into the ensuite and waited patiently for you to wash and change into your pyjamas. While he got ready for bed, you crawled under the covers and fought to keep your eyes open.

You wanted to talk to him about the kiss, about how you had wanted the kiss. You wanted to tell him that you’d changed your mind about his stupid rules and that you wanted more than what you had; more than the lies and the arrangement.

And, you dared to hope that he wanted it too.

But, when Billy got into bed and pulled you back against him, he let out a heavy sigh and it was something else entirely that left your lips.

“Why were you upset?” You asked. Billy gave a questioning hum, so you clarified; “earlier. On the veranda, something had upset you, before I...”

You didn’t have to say it, didn’t need to remind him of the handjob you’d given him while he stared out at the ocean. His cock twitched against your backside and Billy quickly angled himself away from you.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“It seemed like it mattered.”

He sighed again. “It’s not worth you getting upset over.”

“So we’re back to this again?” You asked with a sigh of your own. “You getting pissy and not telling me why?”

He pulled away from you and rolled onto his back. You turned to find him staring at the ceiling through the gloom.

“It’s nothing,” he said, running a hand over his face, sounding tired.

You were both so tired and you knew you shouldn’t pick another fight, but you couldn’t help yourself, not when it had clearly bothered him.

“How can it be nothing if you think it’ll upset me?” You asked, and Billy huffed another sigh. “Just - just tell me. If I get upset, I get upset. I don’t need you to protect me from being annoyed.”

He looked at you for a moment and he didn’t have to say what he was thinking, you could tell just from looking at him; he didn’t have to protect you, but he wanted to.

“Since the auction, there’s been some rumours going around about you on the gossip blogs...” he said. You waited for him to continue. “Someone found out we went to the hospital that night and, now, some people think that you’re pregnant.”

“What?” You asked, your heart ratcheting in your chest.

You went to reach for your phone, only for Billy to grab your wrist to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said. Pleaded really. “I set them straight. It’s all just... it’s stupid gossip. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Let go,” you said, surprising yourself with how sharp your tone was.

Billy did as he was asked, giving one final huff and an inaudible mutter as he rolled away from you and put his back to you.

You wished that you’d listened the moment you saw the first article. But once you started looking, you couldn’t stop. Each article picked you apart in a different way, some saying you were trying to trap Billy, others suggesting that you’d be a bad mother because you’d been seen drinking at the auction, and some suggested that it was someone else's baby and you were rushing things with Billy to convince him that it was his.

When you finally put your phone down, you could tell he was still awake, and you knew he was waiting for you to say something so he could try to make you feel better. But you didn’t. You didn’t know what you could say.

You weren’t even sure what upset him more; the gossip and lies, or the idea of having a child with you.

Finally the evening made sense - all the little looks and the comments, the way everyone had been treating you. You felt ridiculous, embarrassed, and so angry that Billy hadn’t told you what was going on.

You did your best to wipe your bleary and tired eyes, willing yourself to stay strong and not to cry as you curled up and fell asleep.

A/N : 😅 I probably should have made this into two chapters but... I didn't. At least poor reader has finally realised and admitted (at least to herself) that she's in love with him. In fact, she's started to finally figure out a lot of what is going on, and it's going to make things very interesting, especially over the next couple of chapters...

Also, this story is now longer than Catch Me if You Can, which is honestly so wild to me, especially since there's at least 5/6 chapters to go...

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader

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mrsalwayswrite · 7 days ago

Text

Thank you! ❤️

Be My Shield (Liam Mairi x OC)

Summary: She did not expect to find an ally while waiting to cross the parapet, but she easily accepted his protection…and then offered her own.

This is my submission for @empyreanevents Liam Week- Day 2: Protective. Also this is my first time writing for Fourth Wing and Liam so i hope you like it! I read 'protective' and this is what my brain immediately thought of.

Quick note- in this fic, Liam and Bodhi are the same age and entering the Rider's Quadrant together, which makes Xaden a second year.

Warnings: violence, minor character death (its parapet, y'all)

Words: 5k

The morning dragged by, the burning sun inching across the sky like an archaic form of torture to weed out the weak and unworthy.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be working.

Leyla peeked over the edge of the stone stairs, careful of the lack of railing and the chance of plummeting the two hundred plus steps to the hard ground below. She glanced down at the other foolish recruits standing idly in the long line of those waiting to cross the parapet and hopefully join the Rider's Quadrant. More than once, as the morning transitioned into midday, cries from recruits signaled another potential had fainted as they waited, the unexplainable heatwave taking its toll.

“Can they move any fucking faster? It's fucking hot out here.”

Staring at the stone steps beneath her feet, she allowed the eyeroll at the whining of the man-child standing in front of her. Zinhal was certainly punishing her for her lack of temple worship if he stuck her behind this asshat.

“I bet it's those marked ones. I saw a couple ahead of us.” The one in front of the man-child spoke without heed of his loud volume. “Fucking separtists’ kids.”

Biting the inside of her cheek was the only physical indicator of her annoyance Leyla allowed to manifest. Even after all these years, her mother's training of keeping her emotions to herself still wrapped around her like a muzzle.

“Ha! They're all cowards anyway. I'd bet they see the parapet and freeze, too fucking scared to walk it.” The man-child wiped sweat from his brow and his close-cropped hair.

The line up the stairs moved forward two steps then stopped again.

“Maybe I'll help encourage them along.” He chuckled darkly. “They're not technically cadets until they cross the threshold, right?”

“Nothing stopping them from encouraging you to see Malek then.” She muttered, wondering if her eyes would be permanently stuck in the back of her head from rolling them so much at this idiot's statements.

Could he not see the massive target his haughty statements slapped onto his back? Even if most of the Narravians disliked the marked ones for what their parents did, that did not mean those same marked ones would not protect their own. And in a place like this…where murder was basically encouraged…she doubted he would live long if he kept talking like that.

The sudden snort-laugh behind her made her eyes widen and her stomach drop as she realized someone overheard her snarky comment.

The realization solidified when the man-child turned around to stare down at her, a thick jaw clenched reminding her of her old neighbor's bulldog. “Did you say someth–” His words cut off, anger draining away as he finally acknowledged the person standing behind him. In the span of two heartbeats, his entire demeanor predictably shifted. A sleazy smirk drew up one side of his mouth and his dark eyes scanned her body like it was a treat up for auction at the market.

Leyla wisely kept the eyeroll internal this time, yet stiffened her spine at his unwanted attention. Unfortunately she was stuck, unable to escape as they stood high up on the stone stairs, almost to the crowded, open doorway of the turret. Man-child stood in front of her, looming taller as he stood above her, even though she guessed he was only several inches taller than her own average height, but it was his barrel chest and bulky form that reinforced her prior observation of a bulldog. Behind her stood a tall and very attractive blond, that she had briefly said ‘hi’ to when they first stood in line but she kept her focus on her feet, trying to keep her fears and doubts from strangling her. The only other way to escape man-child was to jump from the stairs and that was the last thing she was willing to do. Some asshole with the intelligence of a cracked walnut was not about to influence her future.

He placed a hand on the stone wall between them, bicep flexing against his short sleeve shirt. “Hey, beautiful.”

She stared over his shoulder, her jade green eyes focused on the turret.

“Are you Loial in the flesh because I think I might be falling in love?”

“The line moved.” She deadpanned, still refusing to look at him.

He peered over his shoulder and sure enough, the line had taken two more steps upward while he was distracted. Of course, once he moved up, he turned back to continue his barrage.

“What's your name, beautiful?”

“No.”

“No?”

Ignoring him, she tucked her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear, allowing a moment to mourn her real hair. It was foolish of her to think cutting and dyeing her hair would repel unwanted attention. Stupid genetics.

“Ohhh…is this one of those ‘you're not worthy to learn my name yet’ things? That's fine. It just makes the victory all the sweeter.” He nudged his companion standing in front of him in line. “Hey, Rus.”

“What is it–Oh fuck.” Rus said once he looked around his companion and noticed her, his blue eyes trailing over her with the subtlety of war horn.

If their attention was not so wholeheartedly predictable and aggravating, she would have laughed. She had been standing behind them for hours and they just now noticed her. She knew those around her were twenty years old but gods, she had hoped for some sense of maturity from those wanting to protect their kingdom.

“She won't tell me her name.” Man-child said, his dark gaze trained back on her.

“Aw, come on, baby. You need allies in a place like this.” The other- Rus- smiled winsomely. “And I promise, Iver and I would be beneficial allies.”

“Yeah, we'd look out for you.” Iver reached out, trying to touch her shoulder. “You know…mutually beneficial.”

Leaning back, she twisted her body before he could make contact, ignoring how it brought her closer to the tall man behind her. “Don't touch me.” She flatly stated, even as annoyance burned away inside her to unearth anger.

Iver blinked before chuckling in a way that was anything but humorous or friendly. “Don't be like that. We're just being friendly. A beautiful girl like you needs someone to protect her, who knows what might happen if she's all alone.”

Leyla tried to suppress the shudder slinking down her spine. How was she already making enemies when she had not even crossed the parapet yet? She was supposed to keep her head down, blend in as much as possible and survive.

“The line moved, asshole.” A deep, soothing voice spoke from directly behind her.

Iver glared at the man behind her before turning and taking the eight steps along with his friend to the top of the stairs, bringing them directly to the turret's open door.

“Are you alright?”

She turned to look at the man behind her. “Yeah.” She replied, selfishly allowing herself a moment to appreciate how handsome he was, especially under the midday sun. His blond hair shone, tousled with longer strands swept over his forehead. Even with her standing two steps above him, he still managed to be taller than her. Broad shoulders, an obviously muscular body that his short sleeve tunic could not fully mask, and toned arms, she wondered if Loial had a hand in creating him, especially with his sharp jaw, plush lips and bright blue eyes that stared at her like her answer was the most important thing in this moment.

“Do you want to switch places with me?” He questioned, his soothing voice a caress to her ears.

She hesitated, the word ‘yes’ on the tip of her tongue before she shoved it back down. How was she going to survive the Rider's Quadrant if she could not even handle a couple of assholes, let alone dragons? No, she needed to be strong…even if she felt anything but strong or prepared for what lay ahead.

“It's fine. Thank you.” She took the first step upward before throwing back over her shoulder. “Unless he starts farting, then I'll definitely switch. He looks like he would smell like death.”

The blond behind her snickered as he followed her up. “Write that on my tombstone. It wasn't the parapet or dragons that killed me. It was a deadly fart.”

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she stifled the laugh that erupted at his blasé comment. She stopped at the top step, one down from the top of the turret, and turned back to the blond. Something fluttered in her belly at the genuine smile and sparkle in his eyes. “I'd never allow your reputation that disgrace. It'd be shameful. I'll come up with something more interesting.”

“What’s more interesting than death by fart?”

“Well, obviously, you wanted to make a reputation for yourself before you even crossed the parapet….it's just a damn shame that you decided to try and cross the parapet by walking on your hands the whole way. I mean, it would be very impressive if you succeeded but alas…” she sighed dramatically and shook her head in faux melancholy, “Malek found you amusing and stole you away. A real tragedy.”

She fully faced him as she spoke, giving herself front row seats as his smile grew, revealing dimples in both cheeks and she had to remind herself not to swoon. Loial definitely had a strong opinion when he was created. She lazily wondered if he was blessed by the goddess of love also or just a recipient of her favor in genetics.

“That's the story we're going with?” He asked, mirroring her pose.

“Unless you can think of something better?”

“No, I think that'll work.”

She opened her mouth to reply when a hand on her shoulder whipped her around roughly, making her almost lose her balance on the slick stairs and tumble off if the blond behind her had not latched his hands onto her waist to steady her.

“Stop fucking ignoring me. You're too pretty to die this soon.” Iver stated, his eyes drifted down to the pair of hands on her body. His eyes widened for a brief moment before they narrowed into slits, directed at the man behind her. “A marked one. Makes fucking sense. You know what, beautiful, I wouldn't touch you since you let those dogs put their hands on you. I bet you fucking moan when they rut into you.”

“Shut the fuck up before I make you.” The blond snarled, his grip tightening on her as if that alone prevented him from lunging at the asshole in front of them.

“Hey! The line moved! Fight on the other side!” Someone from further down the stairs yelled out.

Iver turned around but not before sneering at her like she was shit beneath his boots.

Once he moved forward, Leyla started to take the final step up but the hands still on her waist remained, preventing her from moving. She looked up, above her shoulder to meet his furious gaze.

“We're switching spots.” He demanded quietly.

“Okay.” She breathed out, desperate to mask the tremor in her voice.

Gently and carefully, he moved around her, keeping her body against the stone wall and purposefully putting himself towards the open air and the long fall down to the ground. It was as he switched with her that she finally took note of his rebellion relic. The mark traveled from his wrist and up his arm, the rest hidden by his tunic. The swirls and sharp lines stunning in their design but laced with the despair of what it represented.

She had never met a marked one before, tucked away in the country like she had been. Of course, she had heard the stories surrounding the Rebellion and what had happened to the leaders’ children but…she was the last person to blame children for the sins of their parents.

Leyla might not have a mark on her arm but she felt marked all the same.

“He shouldn’t have said that about you.”

She shrugged, gazing out over the expansive fields surrounding Basgiath. “That’s not the first time someone has tried to insult me. I’m sorry too. About what he implied about marked ones. I don’t think that.”

“I know.”

She turned her face to look up at him upon hearing his smug tone.

Those dimples made a reappearance as he leaned down to whisper. “You wouldn’t have been checking me out earlier if you thought that.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled, heat warming her cheeks to an embarrassing degree.

Luckily the line moved once more and she was momentarily saved from her embarrassment. The turret’s top was open to the air, allowing an unobstructed view of the ravine and river on the other side…and the two hundred foot drop from the stone parapet.

Observations of the turret’s stonework or the three riders standing at the entrance to the parapet suddenly vanished from her mind as she stared at the long stone trail, only eighteen inches in width, that she was expected to cross to join the Rider’s Quadrant, or fall to her death. Success or failure.

Gods, what was she thinking? This was a terrible idea, the absolute worst. Fear bloomed within her chest, tendrils slipping out to prick her with thorns, constricting her heart. A nauseating wave of understanding doused her in its icy chill. She had heard rumors and stories of what the Quadrant entailed, of the death tolls, the violence and terror it caused. It was not until this moment she truly believed it. And now she was going to voluntarily try to join.

How could she do this? If anyone found out…. But what else could she do? This was her best chance to survive…or not. Either way, at least she tried. At least she could say she did not give up.

“Name?” One of the three riders waiting by the entrance, which just looked like a gaping hole in the stonework, asked in a clearly bored tone.

“Liam Mairi.” The blond stated confidently to the roll-keeper.

Anxiety and fear danced a tango in her belly as she watched him move forward to stand at the entrance, waiting for the signal to take his turn and prove he deserved to be a cadet. Two other riders loitered around, barely shifted their posture, but she could tell they were talking to him…to Liam. Staring at them, she belatedly took notice of the winding rebellion relics on their own arms. Two more marked ones, but ones that were riders already. A hint of something, perhaps gratitude, coiled in her belly in knowledge that there were others like Liam already in the Quadrant, he would not be alone.

Unlike her.

But she had to remain so to survive.

“I said ‘name’, girl, or are you deaf?” The roll-keeper snapped.

“Sorry,” she immediately apologized, ducking her head, “it's…ah, Leyla Rivers.”

The rider wrote down her name, barely sparing her a glance as he covered a yawn and gestured her forward. Taking a step, moving behind Liam, she wondered how embarrassing it would be if she vomited right then. Would they make her clean it up? Would they laugh and throw her off the parapet? The rolling of her stomach was about to make a decision for her when a gentle touch startled her. A large, warm hand wrapped around her own shaking one and squeezed.

“Hey.”

Daring to be brave, she looked up and was greeted by those bright, blue eyes again.

“I'll see you on the other side.” He said in that soothing tone, imbued with confidence.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, a poor attempt to soak in his reassurance and smiled softly, not wanting his last memory of her to be surrounded in panic, not that it really mattered if he remembered her. “No walking on your hands.” She teased.

He chuckled. “I'll try my best.”

“Then neither of us have to worry about meeting Malek today.”

“Liam, stop flirting with the pretty girl and get going.” One of the marked ones by the entrance drolled, but with a familiar undertone to the remark.

Liam winked at her and squeezed her hand once more before releasing it. “Ignore Garrick, he’s always been upset that I'm obviously more handsome than him.”

“For fuck’s sake.” The marked one that was as wide as a barn door and with huge muscles for days groaned, rolling his eyes. “Xaden, if I push him off–”

“You know he’d float with all the hot air in his big head.” The taller marked one with dark onyx eyes lazily said but smiled for a brief moment, turning his dark, broody aura into something warm before killing it once again.

“Hilarious, the both of you.” Liam snarked back. Placing his hands on either side of the entrance, he froze for a moment, meeting intense onyx eyes and sharing a brief nod before stepping out onto the parapet and the open air surrounding it.

Chilling anxiety and crippling nerves gripped her with an iron fist. She watched with bated breath as Liam casually walked across the stone parapet like it was a leisurely stroll, arms by his side and an dauntless swagger to his gait that would have been distracting if she was not terrified for his safety.

Once Liam made it to the quarter mark, the marked one- Garrick- she thought, finally spoke to her. “Step up.”

Wordlessly she followed the order, her gaze only drifting briefly to the massive second year and the one with onyx eyes. She startled at seeing those scrutinizing onyx eyes staring at her, gazing at her in a way that felt assessing, like he was trying to read her secrets. He was truly gorgeous with dark hair, tawny skin and a sharp jawline but something about him unnerved her and she quickly darted her gaze away, focusing on watching Liam continue to cross.

It was when Liam was almost to the halfway mark that Zinhal decided to show his fickle hand.

“Go.” She heard from beside her, shoving down the rising terror and taking that first uneven step onto the parapet.

Yet when she looked back up, her heart leapt into her throat.

Liam was warily taking steps back, dodging powerful swings from Iver who had gone before him but clearly turned back.

As if on their own accord, her feet slowly moved forward, her own terror forgotten on the turret as her gaze refused to abandon the sight of the fight happening. She knew hardly anything about fighting, her training was more focused on being a lady, but she could tell Liam remained defensive, only blocking yet giving ground with each step.

Everything changed in a split second.

Iver overswung, losing his balance on the narrow stone walkway. Liam blocked the swing towards his side. Instinctually, Iver gripped onto Liam’s arm as if that would steady himself, like a drowning man clambering over another to try and stay above the deadly waters.

Gravity, and Zihnal, chose otherwise.

They both started to topple over the side, a petrifying shriek yanked from Iver's throat as he grasped at the taller blond.

WIthout thinking, Leyla raced along the parapet, ignoring the two hundred foot drop on either side of her, outrunning the terror previously eating away at her.

With a pained shout, Liam slammed onto the parapet, arms blindly reaching across to grip onto the narrow stonework as his legs and torso dangled freely over the ravine. Iver clung to Liam’s waist like a parasite, loudly cursing and screaming to be pulled up.

Liam’s head shot up, mouth in a grimace, as his gaze locked on hers when she slid next to him on her knees. “No, it's too–”

“Don't let go!” She demanded, locking her arms around his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his temple, desperately hoping it would keep him from falling.

“Wasn't planning on it.”

“PULL ME UP! FUCKING PULL ME UP!”

Leyla lifted her head just enough to meet Iver's wide, panicked eyes.

“DON'T JUST FUCKING SIT THERE! HELP US THE FUCK UP!”

She dropped her forehead back to Liam's temple, her lips brushing against his ear. “Can you do it? Pull yourself up?”

“Just my weight…fuck!...not his too.” He grunted with eyes closed, the strain of hanging on evident.

Realization settled on her like a boulder dropped onto her back. She knew the Rider's Quadrant was hard, that it was ruthless and death would be the shadow that followed all cadets…she just had not expected to taste its darkness so soon.

“Fuck!” Liam shouted, torso jostling as he quickly readjusted his hold on the uneven stones. “Princess, let go. I can't– you need to let go.”

“No! Hold on…just don't give up yet, sunshine!” She commanded, mind scrambling on how to help. A renewed sense of panic bloomed in her chest but she valiantly tried to ignore it, logic warring with everything she had been taught all her life.

Under the bright afternoon sun, a thin shadow wrapped around her wrist and fiercely tugged. At any other time, she would have gaped and screamed but with the adrenaline and mind-numbing panic coursing through her, her mouth remained sealed shut. Her gaze followed as the shadow guided her hand across Liam's back to his ribs, nudging her as it spread across a hard line. Acting on instinct, her hand wrapped around something hard, but it was not until she tugged it out that she recognized what it was. A slim dagger.

Oh gods.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, BITCH?”

She only allowed herself one heartbeat, one brief second before she changed her world forever. Or maybe once she stepped foot in the line to join the Rider's Quadrant, that alone set things into motion. She gave into the growing horror for the span of a breath then forcibly locked it away in her mind.

Gritting her teeth, she leaned over Liam's back and stabbed one of the parasitic hands wrapped around his waist.

A scream ruptured the air around them but she tried to pretend it was only a bird of prey's cry. Not because of her. Not because of what she was doing.

So, she stabbed again.

Just a bird’s cry. The wetness on her hands was only rain drops. Don’t focus. Just act. Don’t…

Oh gods.

Making sure to avoid Liam, she solely focused on Iver's hands and wrists, stabbing one more time.

With a pain-fueled wail, those bloodied hands released…

…and Iver dropped, screaming all the way to the rushing river below.

“Shit.” She gasped, sitting back on her knees, bile coating the back of her throat. Blood splattered across her hand, still painfully gripping the handle of the dagger.

“Princess?”

“Can you–can you get up?” She sputtered, tremors racking her body at the knowledge of what she had just done.

Liam nodded, back and arms flexing. “I think so…back up.”

She scooted back on her butt a little but refused to move more, terrified she would fall off with how badly she was shaking.

Carefully he pulled himself up until his torso was over the parapet and then turned like one would to get out of a pool. It was not until he was balanced precariously on his knees facing her that she let out the breath clogging her lungs.

“Are you hurt?” Those blue eyes scanned over her, the edge of fear still coloring his tone.

She shook her head, throat tight like the very air was trying to suffocate her.

“Come on, let's go.”

“I can’t…” She whispered, terror and horror breaking through her mental box, freezing her limbs to the stone beneath her. Malek…she killed someone.

“Hey, look at me.” He reached out, cupping her cheek as he forced her gaze to hold his. “I won’t let you fall, okay? We can do this.”

Then he dropped his hand from her cheek and grabbed her clenched fist in front of her. Slowly he opened it, slipping his fingers into the empty space between hers. With a fleeting smile, he squeezed her hand before rising.

Following his actions, she rose too.

Above the horror and terror.

Above the raging river that would claim dozens of bodies this day.

She shoved it all aside and willed herself to survive.

Still holding hands, they began to walk towards the other side, that distant entrance to the Rider’s Quadrant. She could feel her hand shaking in his, which only seemed to make him tighten his grip on her. She kept her eyes on his broad back, refusing to look down. The sun burned down upon her face but she welcomed the sting, anything to dilute the writhing emotions swirling in her body and mind like poisonous snakes.

As they approached and then crossed the threshold to the Quadrant, those poisonous emotions slithered to the back of her mind, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted.

“Well that was fucking dramatic.” The woman standing just on the inside with a scroll and pen stated flatly, making a rider standing next to her laugh. “Names?”

“Liam Mairi.”

The rider nodded and then pointedly eyed her. “And yours?”

“Leyla Rivers.”

“Find a spot to sit until formation. Welcome to the Rider's Quadrant, cadets.”

“You two are off to a good start.” The companion chuckled, nudging the roll-keeper.

Without sparing them a second glance, Leyla silently followed Liam, allowing him to draw her further into the Quadrant. Almost as soon as they passed the roll keeper, Liam was bodily dragged into a fierce hug. He released her hand, slapping his companion happily on the back.

“Took you long enough. I almost came out to get your ass, but they wouldn't let me back onto the parapet.” The dark-haired companion with a matching rebellion relic on his arm said, after smacking Liam one more time on the back. “You don't have to be such a show-off.”

Liam chuckled, taking a step back and returning to Leyla’s side. “I had to make it interesting. You practically skipped across it.”

“Well, Xaden told me if I did something stupid like fall, he'd wring my neck…can't imagine what he's going to do to you.”

“Oh fuck.”

The dark-haired companion chuckled. “Lucky for you, you had a gods-sent savior.” He finally looked at her, a smile growing on his face. “Thank you for saving his ass.”

“I'd say ‘anytime’ but I really don't want to do that again.” She softly murmured.

He laughed, tawny skin catching the sunlight, before jerking his head towards where the crowd of cadets loitered. “Come on, let's find somewhere to wait.”

She paused as the two started to walk away, unsure if she was meant to follow them. When a large, warm hand wrapped around hers, tugging her along, she easily relented.

The three of them secured a spot against one of the outer walls, dropping to sit on the dirt floor. She found herself sandwiched between the two taller men, but instead of fear, comfort skated down her nerves, even though she could sense the bone-deep horror and tremors only a heartbeat away. Right now, she tried to ignore it. To revel in the reality that she made it, she was a cadet! Amongst the sea of strangers and danger ahead, she relaxed into the cove of momentary peace her companions’ surrounding presence offered, soaking it in like parched ground.

“Shit, you've got blood on you.”

Leyla startled as Liam gently grasped her hand, sliding the dagger from her palm. In the mental chaos of crossing the parapet, she had not noticed the dagger still in her grip. “Oh.”

“Are you hurt?” He asked, wiping off the blood on the bottom of his pants before sliding the dagger back into its sheath against his ribs.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

“I'll be fine.”

To her shock, he lifted the hem of his dark tunic and used it to clean the drying splatters of blood off her hand. She caught a glimpse of a firm core and the faint outline of abs before she quickly darted her gaze back up to his face, hoping what brief flash of heat she felt did not transfer to her cheeks. Now was certainly not the time to be ogling him.

Then something hit her. “Wait…did you call me ‘princess’ back there?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Her heart raced at the potential implications of his answer.

He leaned back against the wall, lips curled upward in a smirk that drew out a dimple in his cheek. “Well, you were quite demanding, telling me to hold on. I figured ‘princess’ fit.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “I'm fairly certain you called me ‘sunshine’ right back.”

What building tension whooshing out of her so quickly, she felt momentarily lightheaded. It was just a silly nickname. He did not mean anything by it.

She ignored his latter comment, not about to reveal how struck she was by him at their initial meeting and how his warmth and their lighthearted humor reminded her of sunshine. “Well, I didn't feel like working on your tombstone today so I told you to hold on and Malek to fuck off.”

That drew a startled laugh from the men on either side of her and a responding, weak smile grew on her lips.

“I think you'll be fun to have around.” The dark-haired man chuckled, then held out a hand in front of her. “Bodhi Durran.”

She took it, giving it a quick shake before wrapping her arms around herself again. “Leyla Rivers.”

“Who else made it across?” Liam asked in a hushed tone.

Leyla zoned out as the two quietly spoke over her. Gods, she hoped she made the right choice. What was this place going to do to her? How was it going to change her? She had not even fully entered into the Quadrant and she had already murdered someone! The reminder made her breath hitch in her throat and horror clawed its way towards her lungs. She could not do this. She had literal blood on her hands. Someone died because of her. The back of her throat tasted of bile once again and she wondered if she had enough time to sprint for somewhere seclusive before vomiting.

Before she could spiral further, a warm hand covered hers, tugging her into a broad chest. Without thinking, she leaned against Liam, absorbing his comfort and warmth. Taking slow breaths, she waited for the swelling nausea to subside, for the faint trembling of her hands to dissipate.

She desperately hoped she had not made a mistake. She had heard it sworn once that those that attempted the Rider's Quadrant either came out on the back of a dragon or dead…but she silently rationalized to herself that either was a better option to the alternative.

At least HE could not find her here.

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Yes, this is feels like the first chapter of a series. My brain can't stop thinking about Liam & Leyla so we'll see if I continue and ignore all my other WIPs.

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