#billy russo x reader fic

[imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend]

Penny For Your Thoughts

Pairing: Billy Russo x F!Reader

I saw this gif and got super horny for Billy again, so this is what happened. You can also blame @becauseicantthinkwritings, @frying-panties, @dreadfulxives18 for encouraging me 😜

Warnings: 18+, minors do NOT interact, smut, explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, super dirty talk, use of pet names (darling, baby), Sugar Daddy!Billy vibes, oral (M receiving), PIV, reader has multiple orgasms, creampie

“Darling, my leg’s falling asleep.” 

You pouted, not that he could see, and snuggled your face further into Billy’s neck. You were sitting on his lap, with your butt mostly on one of his thighs, cuddling up to his chest. He was still dressed in a full suit and had merely sat down on the couch for a drink, but you’d crawled onto his lap. You needed to feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and just be close to him.  

You’d been lonely without him, spending the day feeling empty after waking up with his cock inside you. He’d left you blissed out, cum seeping between your legs. He wanted to clean you up, but he was late for work, and you assured him that you could clean yourself up. 

The sound of Billy setting his glass down shook you from your memory. “Darling,” he said again. He ran his hand through your hair and pulled on it slightly. 

You let him pull your head back so he could look at your face. 

“Hi, Billy.” You said. You hadn’t even spoken since he’d gotten back. You just needed to feel him.  

He smiled gently. “Hi, baby. I need you to get off my lap. I can’t feel my toes.” He let go of your hair and smoothed it back in place. 

“Kiss first?” You bargained. 

Billy grinned. “For you, of course.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. 

You pouted as he pulled away.  

“What’s that face?” he asked. He knew what it was, though. 

“Nothin’,” you said, knowing better than to push him. 

You got off his lap and slid to the floor instead, resting your chin on the knee of his other leg as he stretched out the one you’d been sitting on. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, looking up at his pensive face. 

“Just thinking about my day.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. 

“How was work?” You asked. 

Billy shrugged. “It was hard to focus, with the image of my cum leaking out of your little cunt constantly flashing through my head.” 

You felt your cheeks flush, but more pertinently, you felt arousal pool between your legs. You bit your lip for a moment, before you released it. “Maybe that’s something you need to see again.” 

A beautiful, sexy smirk took over Billy’s lips. “Oh? You think that’ll help?” 

“Maybe. Or maybe you need your cock in my mouth?” You trailed a hand up his leg and over his groin, which was starting to grow hard. 

He grunted at your touch. “Maybe I need both.” 

“Maybe you’ll get both, if you ask nicely.” You batted your eyelashes.  

Billy’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I ain’t nice, though.” 

“Yes, you are.” You disagreed. You continued rubbing your hand along the outline of his cock over his trousers. “You bought me those shoes I really wanted last week, even though they were full price.” 

“They weren’t that expensive.” He grunted. 

“They were two grand.” You scoffed. 

“Pennies.” Billy quipped. 

“You wanted to take care of me this morning. Almost made you late for work.” You said, still trying to tell him that he was nice. 

“Well, had to do something for the excellent pussy I got.” He drawled. 

You rolled your eyes.  

“Well, you’re quite nice to me. You’ll never change my mind.” You said. Despite your many attempts to refuse him, Billy had been very generous to you. All the money he’d given so far had been used – in addition for pleasurable items like a new phone, or non-necessities like those designer shoes – for student loans, medical bills, and even your rent before you’d moved in with him. 

You unbuttoned his pants and did your best to free his cock, but he ended up lifting his hips so he could pull his trousers and underwear down his legs instead. You pumped him a few times in your hand as you gathered some saliva in your mouth, before you let it dribble out onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Billy said.  

You then lowered your head and took him in your mouth, moving your head down until your nose touched his skin. You let his cock tickle the back of your throat for a few seconds before you pulled back and started sucking on the tip. You teased the slit with your tongue and stroked him with your hand before you started bobbing your head. 

Billy groaned. “Now I’m remembering why I’m so nice to you.”  

The corners of your lips turned up, but you couldn’t give him the smirk you wanted to with his cock in your mouth. Billy always seemed to enjoy getting head from you, and with the way he treated and pleased you after, you didn’t mind giving it. 

It was difficult to take all his length in your mouth though, so you stuck to using your hand near the base to stroke and squeeze what you couldn’t fit past your lips. Every now and then you would stop to suckle and lick at the swollen head, tasting the precum that was starting to spill.  

Billy’s fingers wove into your hair, and you started to take him back in your mouth. You knew that he liked it when you struggled to take him all. 

“Lemme feel that little throat choke on my dick.” He said, voice thick with arousal. 

You fought your eyes from rolling back in your head as you felt yourself soak through your panties. You focused on breathing steadily through your nose, as Billy slowly thrusted his hips to fuck your mouth. Your fingers dug into the cushions of the couch, your pussy ached, but you let Billy use you. You wanted him to use you. 

You were finding it harder to breathe and were getting a little overwhelmed trying to continually disengage your gag reflex, and tears had started spilling down your cheeks. When Billy noticed, he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Fuck!” Despite his roar, his rhythm slowed until he eventually pulled your mouth off him.  

Your used jaw hung open for a little bit, and some drool slid off your tongue and onto your lap before you could close your mouth. 

Billy delicately cupped your face and wiped away your tears. “Are you okay?” His voice was dripping with fake sympathy, but you loved it. 

You tried to speak, but you could only nod. “Poor thing. Your brain’s probably leaking out of your little cunt, just like your mouth. Can’t even talk.” 

You whimpered. You were so wet. Your panties were absolutely drenched. 

“Fuck, baby. Get up here, lemme fuck that wet little cunt.” 

Your legs were stiff from kneeling, but you sat down on the couch and pulled your dress off. Billy kissed you immediately, hands expertly ridding you of your bra and tossing it behind him, so he could twist your nipples with his fingers. One hand went up to wrap gently around the front of your throat and he pushed you so that you would lay back. 

He moved his kisses down your throat to your tits, giving both of your nipples a wet suck, before he kissed down your stomach. 

He looked up at you, his eyes menacingly dark with arousal. “I can smell you, baby, and I haven’t even taken off your panties.” 

“So wet. Just for you, Billy.” You whined. 

“Let me see.” He said. “Take ‘em off.” 

You lifted your hips and pushed your panties down and pulled them off your feet. You dropped your panties to the floor, a little embarrassed at how you’d soaked through them when all you’d done was suck his cock. 

Billy took one look at your glistening center before he slammed his cock inside you. He didn’t even bother to get undressed, but you felt the heat of his skin through his clothes. 

You gasped hard at the intrusion. Usually, he warmed you up with his fingers, so now it felt like he was splitting you open. “Fuck, Billy... ‘s too big.” You practically sobbed. You realized you were still a little sore from this morning. 

He gave one thrust, but then settled deep inside you and remained still. “What’s that?” He kissed your lips once, then your cheek, then began sucking on your neck. 

“You’re too big!” You whimpered. Your hands clutched at his suit desperately in an attempt to ground yourself. 

He chuckled into your neck. “You’re a big girl, you can take it. Can’t you?” 

You whined as he pulled back and pressed in again. He was everywhere, it was too much, yet you wanted more. 

He looked up at you and saw the single tear slipping past the corner of your eye. “Oh, darling. If you’re gonna cry, I can just stop. Don’t want to hurt the little baby with my big cock.” He kissed the trail left by your tear. 

He started drawing back, but you cried out, “No!” 

He held still, looking down at you with a smug smirk he was trying poorly to hide. “No? But I don’t wanna hurt your little pussy.” 

“Please, don’t stop. I can take it. You made me so wet, Billy. I can take you, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, cupping your cheek sweetly. 

You nodded vigorously. “Promise, I promise.” 

Billy tapped your lips with two fingers, and you opened your mouth immediately. You sucked on his fingers, lathering them with your tongue before Billy pulled them out. He used them to press against your clit, and your hips arched up into him and your cunt clenched around him. 

Billy grunted. “Such a tight little pussy. And it’s all mine.” 

You nodded in agreement. “All yours.” You sighed, enjoying the way he was stroking your clit.  

He started thrusted again slowly, but only for a few beats before he started fucking you earnestly. His hand abandoned your clit, so he could push one of your legs up against your chest and grip the arm of the couch in his other hand to allow him to rail you into oblivion.  

Little sighs and moans were leaving your mouth unconsciously. You wondered if they could be heard over the sound of Billy’s skin slapping against yours. You were certain that they could, when you gave a particularly high-pitched whine as the tip of his cock hit that precious spot inside you. 

Billy grunted. “Sing for me, baby. Let me take care of you. Like I always will.” 

His words were what drove you to your orgasm, even more than the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your walls. Your body did indeed sing for Billy as you came. 

Your vision kind of blacked out, and you could just barely hear Billy’s strained chuckle as he continued fucking you. “So gorgeous when you cum all over my cock like that. Your little cunt is fluttering all around me, baby. Feels so fucking good.” 

You whined, getting a little overstimulated by his continuous thrusts. “Billy.”  

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, Billy.” You couldn’t say anything else. 

Your vision came back into focus and there was a smirk on his lips. “I see your brain is still leaking out of your cunt.” 

You opened your mouth to try to speak, but his hand when back to your clit and you gasped at the contact. 

“Cum for me again, baby, then I’ll fill up your little cunt.” 

Your back was arching from the attention to your clit and the building of your second orgasm. Your bare nipples brushed against the smooth fabric of his suit jacket and the peaks tightened even more at the friction. Everything was too much. 

“Oh, don’t know if I can.” You mumbled. 

Billy kissed your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth to tease yours for a moment. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “You can, baby, I know you can. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, almost reluctantly. You didn’t want to do anything but please him. 

“Yes, you are.” He said proudly. With that, he started rubbing your clit rapidly and he didn’t stop until your walls were convulsing once again. 

“Oh, Billy, ‘m cumming.” You cried, fingers digging into his back. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby.” His rhythm stuttered a little bit before he gave some hard thrusts and came inside you. His hair was out of place and fell in front of his eyes, which were squeezed shut in his bliss. He’d never been more beautiful. 

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, so that he would settle against you. You needed his weight to ground you because you felt like you were going to float into space. Billy planted a few soft kisses on your cheek, jaw and behind your ear. 

He pulled away then, and you groaned when his cock slipped out of you. You watched him watch his cum drip out of you. His dark eyes sparkled. 

“Goddamn.” He said, his voice deeper than ever. 

You bent both your knees and brought them close to your chest, opening yourself up for him. You ran your fingers gently through your folds and swiped at your entrance. You brought your fingers to your mouth, glistening with the combination of your cum and his, and sucked them between your lips. You moaned, mostly for show. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You teased. 

Billy smirked. “You’re something else.” 

You released your fingers, smiling up at him sweetly. “Think that will help you be less distracted tomorrow?” 

He chuckled. “Definitely not.” He tucked himself back in his trousers. 

You grinned. 

“Come on, darling. Let’s take a bath.” 

“Can’t walk.” You said simply, not even trying to move. 

He shook his head, still grinning, but took you up his arms anyway. 

You smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Love you, Billy.” 

“Love you, too, baby.” 

~

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 😌

Taglist: @kayhi808 @idaoftheburningmind @quellmythirst  @kahlanmars @catherinnn  @crowssixof  @musicalggirl  @insssanemind  @loubombshell @misscaitygrace @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations

(please tell me if you want to be removed from my everything Billy Russo taglist, I just kinda look through everyone I have tagged on other stuff consistently)

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

No Other Gods

Serial killer! Billy Russo x Female Reader.

Billy’s POV mostly

Summary: Billy’s on the run, moving from place to place as he leaves a trail of bodies behind. When he steps into a church to hide, he stumbles upon someone that makes him want to stay.

Warnings: Dub- con, violence, gore, blood, blood smearing, so much murder, mentions of Billy's past assault attempt, suggestion of possible sexual assault attempts toward the reader, religious themes, blasphemy, sexual acts in a church, thoughts of non-con (no actual non-con), poison, restraints, oral, fingering, sexual intercourse, wax play/heat play, Devil worship. 

If you want clarification on a possible trigger, I am happy to elaborate. 

I took the dove out back, shot it, then resurrected it so I could kill it again. Be warned.

For my lovely @ittybxttykxttytxtty who was so instrumental in the design of this fic. This goes out to you, love, who reminded me that I shouldn't be afraid to write whatever inspires me.

He’s calm. 

Each step he takes is slow, measured, he hears the echo of it on the quiet street, the drag of his shoe on the concrete sidewalk. 

He turns the corner, and has to fight the instinct to hold his breath as they turn their heads to look up at him. The murder weapon tucked into the waistband of his jeans feels ten pounds heavier.

Even breaths, one in, one out, he knows nothing, he has no sense of concern, or worry. He blinks, feels trepidation wash from his skin.

Internally, he readjusts his course, doesn’t want to walk past the group of officers that are studying him from further up the street, doesn’t want to answer questions just yet, not until he has his story straight.

From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the church and he changes his walk ever so slightly that it looks as though he’s been heading there the entire time.

When he’s at the closest point, he raises his head and smiles, gives a little wave to the officers, wishes them a good day, though he knows what they know, and it’s not a good day for them.

The church is pristine, unlike the other buildings on the street, it stands with fresh paint and the smell of almost dried varnish and scrubbed steps that tell him that this church is probably the most coveted place in the entire town. 

Billy, having just cut a man’s throat in the High school gymnasium, steps past the door, and does not immediately combust.

Surely, that must mean he’s doing something right, that his cause is a good one, maybe even approved of in the eyes of God.

He’s not convinced.

For a moment, he thinks it’s empty, thinks he’s alone with God and his thoughts, up until the slight movement of shoulders draws his eye.

He’s in disbelief that he missed you the first time, the light of the stained glass hitting your sedentary form.

He takes some quiet steps forward, swears he feels the concealed knife grow warmer. He watches you, studies in rapt attention the way the coloured lights look on you, the way they illuminate your hair, makes his fingers ache to touch something that looks explicit in its forbiddenness.

Your dress is white, or a cream colour that tells him the outward state of your mind, the purity nurtured in your soul.

He moves faster now, eager to see you, to know what you look like, to hear your voice, to look into your eyes.

He turns when he makes it to your pew, sees the way the light caresses the planes of your face, and he wishes he could do the same.

You are radiant, undisturbed beauty, your hands clasped together beneath your chin, a small rosary wound between your fingers. He wants to touch your hair, swirl strands of it around his finger, he wants to feel your skin, hold your form beneath his palms.

Everything he wants, halts, the moment you turn your head and look up at him.

His lips part in surprise, he’s taken by you. You must be an angel, or something more.

“Hello.” You say softly, gazing up at him with unsure eyes.

“Hello sweetheart, I'm sorry to bother you.” Billy answers smoothly, as though he isn't desperate for you to get closer so that he can catch your scent.

You look like you smell like flowers, he thinks to himself, bristles with delight when you finally stand, the light streaming through the stained glass paints you with a myriad of colors.

“It's okay,” you soothe, “I don't mind helping.” You smile at him, an ease of trust in your eyes. Trust, he could so easily extinguish with the weapon concealed on him.

You extend your hand, giving him your name, he smiles, gives his back. In your eyes, he can see something he doesn’t quite recognize.

Too pure, Billy finally decides. You're too pure, there must be some wrong.

“I’m new to town,” Billy explains, leaning in so that he can stand in God’s light with you, in hopes that you can absolve him of the thing he has done.

“Got a little bit lost. Will you help me find my way?”

You smile, and it reminds him of warm fires in the winter, of standing in sunlight after being drenched from head to toe.

“Where are you going?”

.

One of the wives whispers something in your ear, Billy watches you tilt your head back laughing. You had this entire town wrapped around your finger and before he’d arrived, he’s sure no one had ever questioned your purity.

A white dress and blue cardigan, he wants to take you into one of the back rooms of the church and push his murderous hands under your dress, feel your gasp in his skin as his hands paw at your delectable thighs.

He wants to ruin the very image of you, reshape you for him, and him alone.

He turns his head slightly, observes that he’s not the only man here transfixed by you, but one in particular catches his eye.

The reverend, in the same clothes he’s just delivered Sunday sermon, gazes lustfully at you, his glasses balanced at the very tip of his nose to conceal the direction of his eyes. 

He recognises the expression, knows it like he’s looking into the face of someone who once looked at him the very same way. The reason he started killing in the first place. 

He feels the itch swell inside of himself, his fingers flex.

It seems as though it would be time to hunt again very soon.

.

“Lost again?” Someone says behind him while he’s picking out laundry detergent.

He turns, seeing you there, in a pale pink shirt, and tan pants that hide your figure from his view. 

He smiles, watches the way you light up even more. A sweet, little morsel made for his fangs.

He holds up two different boxes of detergent for you to see.

“What do you think?” He asks.

You hum, deep in thought.

“This one,” You say, pointing at the item in his right hand, “smells too flowery for my taste, and you don’t seem like a man that likes to smell like flowers.” 

He smiles, raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

“And this one,” You point to his other hand, “Oh, that’s the one I use.”

“So it must be the best.” He agrees, as if you made a proper suggestion, putting the latter into his shopping cart.

You smile up at him in amusement.

“So, how are you getting all of this back to your place?” You ask, tilting your head at the moderate amount of groceries in his cart.

He turns, looking at what you were observing.

“You’re right, I might have picked up too many things for my walk back home. I’ll have to put some things back.” He agrees with her implications.

“No way!” You protest, reaching to take his hand, tugging him with you.

“Pastor Wade brought me along with his wife, I’m sure they’ll have some extra space in the back for you.” He follows, feeling anger that Wade had found himself closer to you than before. You wave your hand excitedly at the reverend, and Billy smiles internally at the sour look he receives from the man himself.

The trunk gets filled with the reverend’s new items, and Billy smiles, looks at you as you tilt your head, trying to solve a problem of too many groceries and too many people trying to fit into one vehicle.

“Give it up,” He says, mouth angled near your ear, “I’ll find another ride-”

“Don't you dare,” You argue, “I promised you a ride home and I won’t back down now.”

He smirks, watches you pile yours, and then his items into the backseat of the car. When you’re done, there’s only just enough space for only one person to fit.

“That’s okay.” You insist, “I can sit on you, if you don’t mind?”

Of course he doesn’t mind.

“If you’re sure.” He taunts.

“It’s a great idea.” Wade’s wife echoes, too eager to have them both in the back seat and the journey started.

Billy does his best to appear aloof, he gets in, and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re hesitant at first, before looking around, and then climbing into the back seat of the car to seat yourself in his lap.

Billy takes a deep breath, exhales, watches the pores on your neck and collarbone rise when his breath touches you.

A few moments into the ride and you’re wriggling uncomfortably in his lap.

“What is it?” He asks.

“Warm.” You explain, reaching for the buttons on your pink cardigan, brushing his stomach with your hand as you tug it off your shoulders.

Billy watches, with rapt attention as you reveal a white shirt beneath your cardigan. When you almost slip off his lap, he reaches to grip your knees.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” He whispers, just so you can hear.

You hold conversation with Wade and his wife throughout the journey, talking about how excited you are for the upcoming Christmas season, and that dressing up as an angel at the annual concert is a highlight for you.

All the while, Billy keeps you seated in his lap, your ass right on his hardening cock, the smell of blossoms drifting from your hair.

He closes his eyes, tries to distract himself from thinking too much about you, but he knows it doesn’t work. When the road gets bumpy, Wade apologises for the rough ride, and you respond with something reassuring.

You stiffen after a moment, and he knows he’s been caught.

He knows you feel him when you turn your head to look at him in surprise, his cock, hot and hard below your ass, rubbing against you as the car sputters along.

He looks right back at you, meets your shocked look with a sinister one of his own, wants you to know what a man feels like, makes sure you commit him to memory.

In the rearview, he sees pastor Wade glance at the pair of you. Billy looks back, holds his eyes, gives the supposedly pious man a smirk.

.

The next Sunday, you sit beside him in church.

It completely unfocuses him from his next target, he tilts his head to look at you.

Such a curious thing, drawn to something you now know isn’t as wholesome as appeared to be. It makes him feral, makes him want to put his hand on your thigh, slide it slowly up until he’s at the apex, tuck his obscenely large fingers under the waistband of your panties, find you dripping, feel you aching, press a lone finger to your swollen clit, make your sweet little cunt gush in God’s sacred domain. 

When it’s time to take his hand in prayer, he makes sure to do it as slowly as possible, dragging his fingers along your palm, your touch makes him feel blessed.

.

It becomes a habit, sitting beside him for Sunday mass, the eroticism of your touch right before you pray, before you ask God for forgiveness from all your impure thoughts and deeds, and Billy sits besides you, blood dripping from his hands as he imagines the ways he wants to violate you in this very church.

.

It’s a Wednesday evening when he steps into the church, the most desolate time possible. He knows there’s only two people here, him, and his target.

He moves slowly, cautiously, on the balls of his feet to avoid making too much sound. The wind blows, the front doors to the church groan. 

He passes the stained glass windows where he’d first met you, he passes the pew he sits at every Sunday while thinking about you, he passes the doors at the back of the church that he thought would make a decent place to defile you.

He goes deeper, till he can hear the quiet familiar slapping of a man going at it.

He’s not shocked by it, or scandalised, he knows his wife barely touches him, he knows she has an idea of what goes on inside his head. Billy’s studied her too, looked at her while she watched the way he leaned in to speak to you, a spark of realisation in her eyes. 

He makes gentle movements, turning the doorknob with two of his fingers at a pace so slow it goes unnoticed by the person on the other side of the door.

He gazes steadily through the small gap.

Pastor Wade has your pink cardigan pressed to his face. Billy remembers the last place he saw you wear it- in the back of Wade's car. 

He has one hand to his face, and the other stroking his meagre erection. Billy waits, in the stillness, the only sounds are the preacher’s laboured breaths and the movement of his hand.

There’s a right moment to act, and Billy waits patiently, he doesn’t have to talk himself into this one as much as he’s done with some others before. This one comes easily, in part because he’s grown accustomed to the feel of blood spilling onto his hands, almost craving it now, but mostly, it’s because Wade’s next intended victim is you.

In front of him, Wade groans, tilting his head back pace quickening. Billy pushes the door open. The wooden door doesn’t groan like it did before, Billy had greased the hinges just last week in preparation for this.

Billy stands behind the man, waiting for the precise moment, and when the preacher lets another groan loose from his lips, a warning of impending release, Billy strikes.

The man comes just as his throat is cut open, blood spraying from his neck as semen spills from his cock. Warm blood pours over Billy’s hands, as he supports the man as he drops, not wanting to cause more noise than necessary.

He lies on his side, turns his head upward, mouth parting in surprise as he sees Billy’s face. 

“I wish I could punish you more, but I’m not worried, I know the Devil is going to take his sweet time with you.”

He watches the words register behind the dying man’s eyes, and Billy smiles wickedly as life leaves him.

He tugs your cardigan free from Wade’s hand, it’s partially soaked in blood and will need to be properly disposed of, he doesn’t want anyone finding it and linking you to the crime in any way. 

He studies the soft pink material, smiles at the thought of you. He brings the material up to his nose, catching the smell of blossoms just barely clinging to the fabric.

The fluttering wings of a bird above makes him glance upwards, and he figures one must have found its way into the space between the ceiling and the roof, searching for a comfortable space.

He uses your cardigan to clean his knife, before turning, and heading for a sink to wash the blood from his hands.

.

He brings a casserole to the deceased’s house the evening they discover him dead. 

It’s just a little something to help out, he explains to Wade’s widow when he greets her in the kitchen. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, crying from the moment she’d heard the news, no doubt.

He doesn’t stay with her too long, excusing himself despite her attempts to hold onto his hand, the women around her gazing at him, more intrigued than ever about his culinary skills.

He wants to find you, to see you. There’s an itching inside of him that won’t go away until he knows you’re here with him.

When he finally catches sight of you, something inside of him unknots itself. You’re standing in the middle of a large group of concerned people, you look like you’re fighting tears with everything you have. A woman touches your shoulder, and you raise your head to give her a brave smile.

He pauses on the outskirts, wonders how he’s ever going to get your attention.

But he doesn’t have to worry, because your eyes lock with his as soon as he stands still, as if you’d been seeking him out this entire time. He gives you a small smile, something of an icebreaker from so far away, and you take it as an invitation, running right to him with tears already spilling down your cheeks.

Your body collides with his, and for a moment, there’s only you, and the softness of your form, and the smell of your hair and he’s quietly reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

He enjoys it, the way you grip his shirt, the way you cling to him with every ounce of strength you have. He hugs you back, finding a way to the soft loveseat in Wade’s living room. You don’t pull your head from his chest as you cry, you shake with big, heaving sobs, and he tries his best to comfort you.

If you’d only known what Wade’s intentions were with you, you wouldn’t be crying. After a while you calm, and you continue to cling to him while you sniffle, his shirt damp with your tears and he wears it like a badge of honour.

So many people stop in to check on you, more and more with each passing hour. Billy thinks more people are concerned with your wellbeing than with Wade’s actual widow.

It amuses him, that so many people are drawn to you, that you have such influence on everyone, that they care so much for you, and here you are, tucked into his body, turning your head into his chest to cry every now and again, growing less frequent with the more time that passes.

Later, he offers to take you home. He’s just been able to afford a slightly beat up car, and he asks if you’d be okay with being driven by him. You accept with sleepy eyes, and he smiles internally, going to find Wade’s wife to bid her goodbye.

He overhears one person speaking with another about the state in which the body was found, covered in his own blood and semen, throat slit from ear to ear. Billy is delighted to hear it, he wants everyone to know, he wants to shame Wade’s name, even in death.

His widow is sad to watch Billy leave, she grips at him once more, trying to wrap her arms around him the way you do. When he mentions your name, he watches her stiffen, mouth set in a grim line, something in her eyes like accusation, or knowledge of something that she cannot say to another soul. 

She doesn’t speak her accusations to him, and he leaves, wraps an arm around your wobbling form and helps guide you to his car.

You’re so tired, and you fall asleep in his car as soon as you’re buckled in. He drives slowly, takes the long way, anything to be by your side longer. Your cheeks are stained with tears, he thinks about how beautiful you’re going to look in black.

You hum sleepily, reaching across, he blinks in surprise when you take his hand in yours.

“I heard how he died. Can’t wrap my head around it. Someone just decided he shouldn’t be alive anymore. Can you believe that?”

The lord giveth, and the lord taketh away, he wants to say.

Out loud, “I’ve seen it a couple of times, back in New York.” he says instead.

You squeeze his hand.

“Do you think you could ever take a life?” 

His breaths pause, it was time to confess to you.

“I have,” He clears his throat, “I have killed people, I was in the army.”

Your head swivels to him in his peripherals, he glances back with a sad smile.

“I just thought you should know.” 

“Thanks for telling me.”

You continue to hold his hand.

“You- you’re not- you don’t hate me?” 

“It’s not in me to hate, I have to believe that the path you’re on was necessary to bring you to me.”

“To you?”

“So I can help you.” You answer, squeezing his hand.

He wants to rip you apart and reshape you with his own hands.

When he finally gets to your house, he helps you out of the car, helping you up the few stairs and supporting your weight as you get the door open. When he tries to let you walk on your own, you stumble, and he has to catch you before you fall.

“I’m really tired.” You explain to him, and he hums in understanding.

He takes you up to bed, watches you collapse onto the soft surface, knee length dress rucking up so that he catches just the quickest glimpse of your underwear.

His hands clench into fists. He wants to push your skirt up, bury his face between your legs, taste your little cunt, worship you until you come on his tongue. 

“Will you stay?” You ask, arms spread out, legs slightly bent as they press together.

He kicks his shoes off decisively.

“What will people say?” He teases.

“You don’t strike me as a man who’s ever cared about that.” You whisper softly.

He grins, climbs into bed beside you, reaches around your hip so that he can pull your body against his.

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispers as your eyelids flutter, struggling to stay conscious.

“G’night, Billy.” You respond, touching your face into his chest once more before you doze off completely.

It's too much power, and you must know it. To fall asleep so easily right beside him, every temptation to be like the predators he hunts. He could press his palm to your thigh, drag his hand up to your hips, you would never even know. He could do so much worse, pin you to the bed, pull his cock out and take you right here, watch you wake in shock while he fills you. Watch his cum leak out of your little hole. What could stop him? You? God? Everything he's wanted at the tip of fingers and all he has to do is take.

In the end, he doesn't do it. He lies beside you and thinks of all the vile things he could do and doesn't act on a single thing and he doesn't really know why.

He thinks it's because of the consequences. Doing that would mean you wouldn't want to be around him, and he needed you to want to be around him. 

By the time morning comes, and you wake, he's spent the entire night memorizing the feel of your body against his. If you feel his aching erection, you say nothing of it, and he's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

.

He finds you right after the funeral, lighting the candles that have gone out when the doors had been wide open to allow the coffin through.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, approaching you, swallows as he finally has a chance to fully appreciate your funeral attire. 

It's loose, giving you an almost formless shape, to hide from everyone's view, your skirt is just a little shorter than usual, probably something you haven't worn in a while, resting at mid thigh and no doubt giving the women something to chat about in hushed voices. 

You glance at him with a little smile, before continuing your painstaking process of relighting each candle. 

“I'm alright. The lord gives, and like natural order, the lord takes.”

He blinks.

“That's right.”

“What do you think about the Devil?” You ask suddenly, not looking up, simply tilting your head to continue your work.

“What do you mean?” He pries.

“Is he evil? Or is he just the way God made him?”

“He's both.” Billy answers.

You smile, and finally turn to look at him. 

“Do you think God loves him?” 

“Doesn't the Bible say God loves all his creations?” 

You smile wider, nodding. For once, Billy feels like he doesn't have the upper hand in a conversation. 

“Are you worried about eternal damnation?” Billy asks, taking a step closer, ready to reassure you that someone as sweet as you couldn't possibly end up in Hell. If you were damned, well that didn't bode well for him.

“I'm not afraid of Hell, I can handle fire.”

Billy watches you raise a hand, and hold it closely over one of the candles. He hisses, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away.

He turns your palm to check for any serious burns, but he'd withdrawn your hand just in time.

“I'm alright, Billy.” You reassure him, leaving your hand in his, and using the other to continue with your previous task.

It's the first time he realises that there is more to you than he'd initially thought. He'd seen you as a pristine painting before, something to be looked at, forbidden to touch, to love from afar. Now? You were an enigma, a puzzle whose pieces were made to be handled, to be solved by the right person.

Billy wanted to be that person.

.

“-He wants to be here with you, the lord is one with everything, he’s in everything you see, and everything you touch. You just have to close your eyes and let him in.” 

From around the corner, Billy listens to you speak, your hands holding the other woman’s, who’d stumbled into the church an hour ago, searching for someone to speak with. 

“I’m not worth the forgiveness.” The woman sobs.

Billy is ashamed to admit that the very sound of your voice turns him on. He feels sick, that listening to you speak about the lord makes him hard. If he closes his eyes, he swears you talk about God as if he’s just another person in the room, 

“He believes in you. You’re here, you found me, because that’s what he wanted. You found the strength to come in, to open yourself up to being judged just a little, and I know he appreciates that. He loves you, and I do too.”

Later, when the woman leaves, with a promise to be here on Sunday, Billy finds you, shuffling and reorganising reading materials near the altar.

“You’re good at this.” Billy murmurs.

You smile.

“I’m just doing what he commands.”

Jealousy stirs in Billy’s chest.

Before he can stop himself, he’s stepping into your space, you look up at him with wide eyes, as you try to back away.

“You’re so selfless, don’t you know what people say about you?”

You blink in surprise, your body lowering as you descend the stairs, away from the altar and toward the pews.

“It- why should it matter what people say?”

“They call you a temptress, you’re the reason Wade’s burning in Hell. I heard his wife say it herself.”

“That’s not my fault.” You defend.

“It’s not? You’re telling me you have no idea of the effect you have on men?”

You go down another step, he follows.

“I- I don’t- I’m not-”

He feels so large, looming over you, frightening you.

“You don’t?”

“I only want to serve.” You whisper.

“Who?” Billy taunts.

“What?”

“Who do you serve?”

“The Lord.” 

The back of your legs bump the wooden pew. Billy watches you gasp. 

“And what if I wanted you to serve me?”

He doesn’t let your confused expression last for too long.

Billy acts fast, sitting on the pew, and gripping your hips to drag you onto his lap. He guides your legs over his, spreads his thighs so that you’re forced open too.

You suck in a deep breath, head falling back onto his shoulder. You look up at him, mouth parted, eyebrows drawn together.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your body still on top of his own, he realises that you’re not fighting him like he was worried you would.

He shushes you, gently presses the tips of his fingers right above your knees, takes his time dragging them up.

You reach for his hands, covering them, unsure if you should stop him or not.

“I’m giving you what God can’t.” He simply says, looking up at the altar before them, listening for anyone walking in as he brings a veined hand up to cup your mound.

You let out a little whine, fingers gripping his wrist, unable to pry his hand away.

“This is wrong.” You whisper, tugging at his wrist.

“I’ll make you feel right in a minute.” He answers, moving slowly to push his hands into your panties.

This is what your cunt feels like, is his first thought. Billy bites down on his bottom lip, his fingers feeling over your pussy, exploring, learning, and when he finally dips his hands lower to find you wet, he can’t help chuckling to himself.

The wrongness of your situation turns you on, and Billy uses it like fuel, lights a fire so readily, eager to watch everything burn.

“This is all an act, isn’t it?” He jabs, “You pretend to be so pure but that little cunt is dripping on my fingers.” You shake your head in protest.

He’s gentle when he finally touches your clit.

You gasp, let out a strained moan, trying to fight a losing battle with your body.

He circles his fingers on your little bud, pulls your legs open wider when you try to shut them. He’s slow, he’s careful, he feels you tremble, feels your breaths get faster. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already.” He chides, “I’ve only just started.”

A soft cry is your only response.

When the sun is at the right angle, it shines through the stained glass and paints you both in multitudinous colours. He looks down at you, your face is one of mindless pleasure while the hues dance on your trembling skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs reverently, “sinning in God’s light.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, mouth parting with the start of a loud cry, he slips his free hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds of pleasure you make.

You rock on him, cunt spilling more and more onto his fingers, his mouth begs for a taste.

Your nails dig into his wrist, he welcomes the feeling, delighted to have given you something only he could give.

When he’s sure you’re going to be quiet, he slips his hand from your mouth, and after a few moments, he pulls his hand from your panties.

His fingers go right into his mouth, eyes closing in bliss at your tart taste, he licks his fingers clean, runs his tongue over them one more time to make sure he’s gotten every drop of you.

You look at him with parted lips, caught in your own amazement, coloured light still spilling onto you.

He smiles, pulling your skirt down, closing his legs which close yours.

He pauses when he feels your fingers touch his chin, he looks at you in surprise to find something calm in them. You part your lips, like you’re about to say something, and then you startle when the doors to the church are pushed open.

You slip off his lap, rising to a stand, you smile, welcoming the people coming in.

.

Billy is waiting in the confessional booth for you to pass by. You’d been so exhausted recently, trying to help the newest preacher get settled, and then someone else had been murdered. A woman working at the bank had been stabbed repeatedly in the face inside the bank vault. Her body had been found on a pile of money. 

It was odd, Billy thought he was the only one of his kind in town, to know there was another out there, made him want to look out for you more than ever.

This, was not him looking out for you.

Rather, he was waiting to pull you away, to be your distraction from another funeral, to save you, if he so dared call it that.

He hears footsteps, identifies you from the click of your familiar shoes on the church floors.

He hears the large wooden doors at the front open to allow the coffin in, and while everyone looks in the direction of the doors, he slips out, wraps his hand around your mouth, and pulls you, struggling into the confessional.

You stop fighting when you see him, and he smiles, bolting the doors closed from the inside. 

He looms over you, cock hardening in his pants, presses a finger to his lips with a smile.

Your mouth parts, curious about him, and when he presses you back, settling your body onto the wooden bench, you don’t have much choice but to obey.

He watches you, fire in his veins. You look up at him with the sweetest eyes, and he knows he’s ready to defile you right here.

Instead, as the funeral begins, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down your legs so that he can worship you with his tongue.

He keeps you right on edge for the entire sermon, licking you slowly, your hands in his hair, your breathing deep and low to avoid attracting attention.

He edges you, echoes the prayers being said outside into your heated core, licks at your sweet bundle of nerves, doesn’t stop for a single second.

When the congregation takes up a gospel in praise, he waits till the voices are at their highest point to let your orgasm take you.

He tastes you greedily, thankful to have ever crossed your path.

He closes his eyes, decidedly not done with you, peeling at your virtue until nothing remains.

.

He takes you home that night, helps your exhausted form like he did before, hands gripping your waist to support your fumbling steps.

“You need to stop expending all your energy like this.” He chastises, lips in your hair, breathing in your scent.

“I’m fine, I just need to sleep.” You protest.

He guides your key into your door.

“Will you stay again?” You ask hopefully.

“If you want me to. But if someone sees me leaving-”

“I know, they’ll have reason to call me a whore.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” His voice is maybe too sharp with you.

You let out a little laugh.

“Right. Sorry.”

He gets you up the stairs, feels you take a deep breath as you yawn.

“Help me get out of this dress?”

God, you really were tempting him.

He watches you fall back onto the bed, clad in only your underwear. He finds it impossible to look away, when your body looks so divine. 

He gulps, wants to kiss every exposed inch, wants to make you see heaven any way that he can.

You watch him while he watches you, he’s transfixed by you.

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

He curls his hands into fists.

“I always want to touch you.”

You give him a sleepy grin, arching your back, reaching behind to unclasp your bra.

“Can you bring me a dress from my closet?” You ask softly, and he stiffens to obey.

He pulls the door open, searching through the delicate things suspended from hangers for something for you to sleep in. He finds a sheer dress, smiles as he pulls it from the closet, he glances back at you to find you already asleep, your breasts exposed to the cold air.

He smiles, turns back to close the door, pauses when something shiny catches his eye.

It’s behind the wooden walls of your closet, shining through the slats. Billy’s eyebrows draw together, leaning in to press against the spot, the entire panel of wood shifts, and he realises that the closet has a false back.

He tosses your dress over his shoulder, reaching for either side of the wood, he presses down gently, and the entire thing shifts upward, allowing a space for his fingers to fit in.

He pulls, the piece of wood is heavier than expected, turns, and tucks it against one side of the closet.

What he finds… washes his mind blank of any rational thought.

It’s an altar, but it’s not for God.

There’s an inverted pentagram painted onto the wall in something that Billy, with his years of experience in the matter, knows to be dried blood. On the pentagram, there are photos pinned, polaroids of him that he’d never seen you take, taped to your wall with little hearts scribbled on. There’s other things as well, the dog tags from his bedside drawer, the pocket square he’d thought he’d misplaced after Wade’s funeral. So many little items of his, in this space, and he realises that he has no idea who you are at all.

On the floor, is the pink cardigan soaked in Wade’s blood, half burned from where he’d tossed it into a quick fire in the woods behind the church. Billy kneels, fingers brushing the handle of a knife with a blade embellished with flowers, stained with blood. The skull of a goat, surrounded by black and red candles.

He knows he should be feeling fear, but there’s no ounce of it anywhere in his body. He licks his lips, plucking a photo of himself from the wall, he feels his lips curl up involuntarily.

He stands, turns to wake you, to confront you, and halts when he finds you already behind him.

You look sleepy still, swaying on your feet, body still bare, and before he can say anything, you raise a fist, and blow a strange powder directly into his face.

It stings when it touches his eyes. He groans, drops the photo of himself he was holding, presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and stumbles. His throat tickles, he coughs, body trying to expel whatever you’ve dosed him with. He can’t see, and he reaches for where he knew you were last, only to find formless air.

He tries not to panic, if you wanted to actually hurt him, you would have by now. Perhaps you just didn’t know what his reaction was going to be and you were safeguarding yourself.

He feels the handcuff wrap around his wrist, but he fights it, his eyes sting too much for rational thought.

“I’ll help you if you cooperate.” He hears you say.

He huffs out a breath, extending his cuffed arm for your guidance.

You pull at him, bringing him to your bed, and cuffing both his arms to the frame. His eyes sting when he tries to see through them, his face burns too, like it’s on fire.

The next thing he feels is a cold cloth on his face, and then there’s instant relief. 

You place a damp rag over his eyes, and on the lower half of his face, leaving his nose exposed for him to breathe.

“Let it sit for a little, it needs to neutralise the poison.”

Poison? He thinks in shock.

He tries to calm himself, tries to tug on his restraints as little as possible. He tries to run through everything he’d learned in the past few minutes, sort them into his head, solve puzzles he didn’t even know existed.

You were entirely not who he thought you were, not even a little, not even at all.

No, not true, he’d seen it, glimpses of the real you from the very start, too pure, he’d thought, too pure that there must be something wrong.

He should have seen it from the minute you took his hand, from the minute you sat on his lap, when you felt his erection and still flocked to him. Billy should have known. It was in the way you thrived under the attention, the memory of you holding your fingers over the candles in the church. He’d seen it all, and had been unable to put the pieces together.

He hears movement, feels the bed dip as you come closer to him, feels your weight settle on his hips, straddling him.

The rags are pulled from his face, and you use the edge to wipe the remnants of something he can’t see.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but it was this or hitting you over the head with a bat.” You smile down at him, he can still see you there.

You don’t look like a new person, you only look more relaxed in his presence, his eyes drop down to find you wearing the dress he’s picked before he’d discovered your secrets.

“You don’t worship God.” He starts.

You smile.

“No I don’t.”

“But you go to church, you help other people find God.”

“You think that saves them? No one in that church is free of sin, no one is made better by being there, they’re only better at hiding it.”

He blinks, tilts his head, waits for you to continue.

You reach for a box of matches, striking one, you light the candle sitting on your bedside table.

“I go to church, because every time I step in there, I spite God.”

He watches you reach to strike another match, lighting the candle on the other side of the bed.

“My Lord, the only one I pray to, is the Devil himself.”

Billy blinks, tilts his head.

“You tempt everyone there with your innocence on purpose.” He says, thinking out loud.

You make a sound of disagreement.

“Not exactly, I’m just charismatic, and the fruits fall where they fall. My intention isn’t to tempt, it’s not my fault that men are so easily… tempted.”

He raises his eyebrows in amazement at your point.

“Look at Wade for example, I was only as nice to him as I was with everyone else, but he took it another way, I’d finally decided to kill him when he touched my thigh for too long… I was watching him from a small space in the roof when you came in.”

Billy watches, hypnotised as you drag your palm over your stomach, your ass grinding gently against his semi-erect cock.

“I watched you stand behind him, waiting for the right moment.” You whisper, hand slipping under your sheer dress, working its way down the front of your panties. Billy’s teeth clench, pulling at the handcuffs.

“I watched you cut his throat,” You groan, “There was blood everywhere.” Your head tilts back as he watches you touch yourself to the memory of his past crimes.

“You took my cardigan. I knew there was something about you before, but it was only then that I knew I had to have you.”

He watches you, fingers hidden from his view as you pleasure your little cunt. He feels rage at not having any control.

“The woman in the bank,” Billy tries to think with you so close, “That was you.”

You nod, smiling down at him. 

“She was a bad person. I wanted to give Satan someone to play with. Just like he gave me you.”

Billy’s hands are in fists, blunt nails pressed to his palm.

“Let me go.” He grits out.

You smile dreamily, shake your head.

“Not yet. I want to have you first.” 

His breath halts in his chest, desperate to ask you what you mean, but he thinks your intention is clear enough.

He pulls harder on his restraints, not wanting to be bound the first time he feels you.

“Don't fight it, Billy. Let me have you how I want, and then, maybe we'll see about those cuffs.”

He stops struggling, takes a deep breath, goes still.

You smile, undoing his belt as quickly as you can, and then tugging at the buttons of his shirt until his torso is bared to you. 

He listens to you hum with delight, feels your scorching tongue lave at his chest, over his heart, flicking at his nipple.

He begins to understand how feral you are, listening to your hums of appreciation as your tongue drifts over his neck. He realises, that you’re just a small thing, searching for someone exactly like you in a world full of people pretending.

When you open his pants, his mouth goes dry, his jaw drops open as you suck on the tip of his cock for just a small moment, enjoying the taste of him before you’re slipping your panties to the side to take him in.

Billy closes his eyes, swears, low in his throat. You feel better than he’d imagined, your walls fluttering around him, pulling his cock deeper into you so naturally that he swears it was always meant to happen.

You moan loudly, head tossed back.

“I would have let you fuck me in that church.” You confess, “I would have let you fuck me in a pool of Wade’s blood.”

Billy groans.

“I’d fuck you in the bare earth.” He grunts, supporting your conversation, “I’d make you beg me to.”

You clench tightly around him, and Billy swears he sees stars for a moment. Your breasts bounce as you roll your hips on him, and after a moment, you pause, reaching for one of those lit candles beside your bed.

Billy looks at you, keeping your steady gaze, trying to prepare himself for the possibility that you might drop hot wax onto his skin.

But you spare him, instead, you tilt the candle, letting a few drops of molten wax fall onto your thigh.

He feels you tighten, grunts in pleasure at the vigour your pace takes on.

He’s so captivated by your enjoyment of it, that he can’t help but ask.

“Do it to me.” He asks.

You smile, hovering the candle over his chest, and when the first drop hits, he gasps. It stings, burns like fire, but then something sweet fills the space, his body somehow asking for more.

You don’t give him any more though, placing the candle back in its original spot, and beginning to rock your hips in tandem.

You’re struggling to achieve orgasm in this position, and he feels amusement rise within him, knowing more about your own body than you seem to know.

It finally makes him relax, knows that no matter how hard you try, you still need him to get you off.

He waits, and waits, and finds that he can be patient when it comes to pleasuring your cunt.

You pause, pouting.

“Poor little girl,” Billy chides, “Can’t manage to come on her own. You need my help, don’t you?”

Your eyebrows are drawn together When you look down at him, trying to make sense of his words.

“N-no, I can, uh, do it myself.”

He grins sharply, relaxes.

“You’re so out of your depth.” He taunts.

“Nuh uh.” You hum, still trying to use his cock to pleasure yourself. Billy turns his head to study his restraints, the wooden pillar he's cuffed to on the headboard is wobbly, he figures one sharp pull at just the right angle would get that hand loose. The other pillar however, is too sturdy for a move like that.

He has to move fast when he does it, find a way to get you to release his other hand.

But first, a distraction.

“You're beautiful like this,” he says truthfully, “Your true self is so much more than I'd imagined and- well maybe we are right for each other.”

He watches you nod eagerly, still trying to reach your peak, your head tilts back, lulled into a false sense of security.

Billy takes his opportunity to strike.

He pulls as hard as he can on the wooden pillar of the headboard, muscles flexing almost painfully. He almost thinks he's going to fail but right at the last second, the wood gives, freeing the handcuff and allowing movement.

Your eyes fly open, and you reach for something behind you, pulling out a knife.

He catches your hand, twists your wrist so that the knife falls free, and pushes it off the bed.

Before you can scramble off of him, his hand grips your hair harshly.

“Unlock me.” He hisses into your terrified face.

Despite your obvious fear, he still feels you clench around his cock, and his desperation to have you exactly how he wants, increases.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” He clarifies, “But you're mine now, so unlock me.”

Your eyelids flutter, your eyes glancing at a spot beside him. He doesn't turn to look, simply leaning his body with yours, hand still fisted no doubt painfully in your hair.

He looks from the corner of his eye, as you tug the bedside drawer open and stick your hand in.

 “You better not be reaching for another knife. It wouldn't take much for me to squeeze the life out of you, even with one hand tied.”

He feels you clench around him again.

“You like that? That I could kill you without a second thought? Your cunt’s gripping me so tight, baby.”

You let out a little whine, withdrawing with just a metal key pressed between your fingers.

“Good girl,” Billy praises, feels even that go right to your cunt, “Now unlock me.”

You do his bound hand first, and then pull the other cuff from around his wrist. Your eyes cling to the reddening bruise on his wrist from pulling too hard.

When he's finally free, he grins, right in your face, before pulling you off his cock and flipping you over.

You gasp in surprise as your back hits the bed, Billy leans away to get a good look at you.

He can see your delectably shaped tits through the white sheer dress, he admires the way it looks- like innocence and somehow pure sin wrapped all in one. 

He thinks, for the first time, he finally sees you, finally understands what he has, looking up at him with careful eyes. 

“You said something earlier. That the Devil sent me here for you,” he leans forward, cups your breasts through the dress, stiffening your nipples, watches you writhe beautifully under him.

“But I'm not your plaything, little girl,” His fingers pinch down, pressing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, watching you gasp in pain and pleasure, “You're mine.”

It sets off something inside of him, and like an avalanche, any semblance of self control he'd ever had, just crumbles.

He leans down, lips pressed to yours, he feels an ache inside of him lessen.

You kiss back, with forceful lips, your hands gripping the back of his head, fingers in his hair to stop him from pulling away.

His hands press against your shoulders, feeling their way over the sheer sleeves of the material, gripping your hips, fingers catching on the fabric as he touches your body for the very first time.

Your legs wrap around him, it makes him so delighted, that you want him, that he's going to use that against you.

He pulls back, grinning when you whine, reach for his mouth once more, his hand finding your throat too easily, gripping it to push you back.

“Where did my little fighter go, hmm?” He leans forward to lick your cheek, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

“Please,” you whisper, “I need you to make me come.”

His nose brushes yours.

“Why? Don't you touch yourself all the time?” He taunts, already knowing your responses before you say them.

“I haven't been able to- since you touched me.”

He laughs, watches you get more and more demure with each moment.

“You haven't been able to come since I put my hands on you? I wonder why?”

“You feel too good.” You confess to him.

He tries to fight it but it makes him laugh again, he buries his face into your neck, amusement so heavy in his body and he has to let it out.

“Sorry, It’s just that- you haven't even seen what I can really do yet.”

“Show me.” You beg.

His hands caress you gently, he nods his head, and then, tears your dress into pieces.

You’re so turned on, aching for him, you shudder as he pulls the remnants of your dress from your skin.

His touch is frantic, his palms skate over your skin, gripping, feeling, your thighs, your legs, your arms, it makes you so much more aroused to be felt like this. No part of your body is safe from his wandering hands, it feels as though he’s trying to learn you, and you are so eager to let him.

His lips are next, kissing the top of your breast, working his way between them, the feel of his lips on your skin makes you feel more connected to him than before. He pulls your panties off in a swift rush, kissing at your knees when he finally gets them off.

“Want to know why my touch feels good? Because I know you. I know what your body likes.” Billy says, you lift your head to look at him, his hand sliding up between your thighs, the tips of his fingers making delicious sparks.

He touches your slit, tracing the seam of your cunt so gently, desperation pooling under your skin. He presses a single finger against you, until he just brushes your clit with the very tip of his finger.

“You need this little bundle here touched, kissed, and it can’t be too harsh.”

You cry out when he just softly strokes your clit. Pleasure burning through you at just the simplest move.

“You think that just because you like pain, that this has to be rough too, but no, your pretty body craves a soft touch.”

He proves it to you, his gentle fingers massage your clit, he makes it look effortless, eyes drawn to your centre, looking up at you with dark eyes every now and then.

It’s the burn of his slow movements that make you lose your mind. The worst part is that he’s right, you’ve never touched yourself so gently before.

“Does that feel good, baby? I’ve killed so many people with these same hands. But I bet that makes your little cunt even wetter.”

You mewl, nodding, remembering the way you’d seen Billy kill. The amount of blood he’d left behind, such a messy crime scene.

You bite down on your bottom lip, back arching, hands gripping your sheets.

Just a little bit more, you think, gasping, quietly urging him on, hoping that he doesn’t stop his movements.

“That’s it,” Billy praises, “Just like that, show me exactly who owns you.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, your vision goes white as pure euphoria overtakes you. It comes in waves, cunt fluttering around nothing, your body shudders as your brain tries to process pleasure beyond your comprehension.

It takes you a moment before you can breathe through it, and like before, it feels like you’re floating, somewhere deep in your subconscious.

His face comes into your line of sight, a proud smile on His lips, beautiful in every way as He hovers above you.

You suck in another breath, it helps you feel your body, and the remnants of your still occurring orgasm.

“The first time I saw you, I couldn’t look away. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. I wanted you all to myself. Now that I have you here, now that I see you, I want you forever.”

You nod eagerly, smiling up at him, gripping his hand to press your cheek into his palm. You wanted that, you wanted to be His as well.

“Now be a good girl and stay still.” He whispers, lowering his body once more, burying his face between your thighs for the second time in your life.

You almost want to scream. His tongue pushes its way to your clit, flicking softly, dipping down to lick at your entrance.

You hear Him moan between your thighs, you shudder, arching your hips into his face.

He slaps your thigh, a warning that he intends to uphold the discipline of His instruction, you simply clench in response.

You wanted- so much more than you could admit.

You'd thought, for a brief moment, that he was the personification of Lucifer himself, that Billy was a reward for your years of devotion, but somewhere in the back of your head, you were starting to feel something different, new, that not even your devotion to Satan himself could match.

He licks you like he's starving for it, hands on your thighs, tongue in your cunt you want to struggle just so He has a reason to hold you down.

You say His name, you feel your thighs tremble, His lips kiss at your swollen clit.

You don't know what you're feeling, something in your chest, that tugs everytime he touches you.

Drunk on His mouth, you hiss when his pace increases, unsure if you'll even be able to have another orgasm so close to the last.

He's careful, dexterous, precise, he licks cunt the way he kills- with careless precision, a spectacle to be admired, spoken about in hushed tones. 

Billy doesn't ask, he simply manipulates your body until you're wound so tightly on edge once again, unable to comprehend how you got here in the first place.

You groan, your grip on sanity crumbles away, all you can think about is Him, and the way his beard feels, scratching between your thighs, and the darkness of his hair and the grip of his fingers on you, holding you to him, daring you to struggle. 

There’s a loud rushing in your head when your next peak finds you, your back bowing off the bed once more, something pinches in protest but you can’t focus on it, the pleasure too important to give up just because you’re a little uncomfortable. 

He licks at the arousal spilling from you, moans into your body with each taste, making you see stars, or fireworks or maybe even just flashes of bright lights and colours. 

It somehow reminds you of the stained glass of the church, makes you feel adjacent to something that’s on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find the right words for it.

He draws back, beard wet with your slick arousal. It’s gorgeous, and you watch him tug his black shirt off- that he’d worn to the funeral of the woman you’d killed- and use it to dab at his chin.

Your eyes roam down his body, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man as sculpted as he is, lean and muscular, small bits of hair on his chest and a spot right below his navel that your tongue aches for.

You sit up, looking at him, pressing your thighs together as he pushes his pants all the way down his legs, his cock already solid and leaking for you.

You remember the first time you felt Him, the way you knew without a doubt that you were going to have him, before you even fully understood what he was.

He reaches for you, grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You gasp at his easy display of strength, watching as he strokes himself for a few moments before lining his cock up with your dripping entrance.

Your past orgasms have made you more sensitive, each inch of him he presses in makes you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure and the stretch associated.

“You're so tight.” He utters with a strained voice.

You can only moan, reach to touch Him, the light of the candles flickering on his bare skin in the dead of night.

Your fingers graze a circular scar on his lower abdomen, and at the same time, he thrusts the rest of his cock fully into you.

You cry out, the sudden bliss of being stretched, goes right into your head, you gasp, your body begs for more, begs to be undone by him.

You swear you can taste blood in your mouth from biting down on your bottom lip too much, unable to vocalise your appreciation of him, he draws his cock out, before making another harsh thrust.

Your back arches, you don’t feel like you’re in your body, or maybe you feel too much in your body, the only thing you know for sure is the pleasure that fills you, that threatens to swell under your skin and explode outward.

He keeps his motions swift, harsh, deep, following through with each shift of his hips fully before beginning another.

“Who’s your God? Tell me.”

“L-Lucifer.” You utter automatically, but it’s the wrong thing to say. He stops, hands gripping your jaw tightly, bringing all your focus to him.

“What was that?” He grits out.

“Lucifer?” You whisper, voice light with pleasure.

He shakes his head, leaning away and reaching for something nearby.

You tighten around him when you spot the burning candle in his hand.

“Say that again.” 

“Um…” You stutter, unsure of what to say.

You gasp in surprise when the first drop of hot wax hits your hip. It stings, just for a moment, before leaving the sweetest tingle in its place.

“Please.” You moan, pressing your hips upward for more of his torment.

“Can Satan do that?” He asks, rutting his cock into you at a slow shallow pace. When you don’t respond, you feel another heated droplet sting the skin of your hip.

You peek at him through parted eyelids, watching the way he looks at you in amusement, before tilting the candle again, this time to allow hot wax to fall onto the opposite side.

“Billy.” You moan, and you watch him grin.

“Answer my question, little dove.”

You shake your head.

“N-no. Satan can’t make me feel like this.” You whisper.

He moves, drips wax onto your thigh, making you gasp in pain, feeling it heighten your euphoria.

“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, and before he can finish his sentence, you’re nodding, raising your hand to your chest to roll your nipples between your fingers for his appreciation.

“I like it, Billy, I love it.”

“Then tell me who your God is.” 

You think you finally understand what he's trying to say, his cock pressed deep inside of you. He's the reason you feel so good, he's been the person occupying most of your thoughts from the day you met. He's someone you'd be willing to kill for.

“You.” You finally answer, and he smiles, moves his hand, still holding the candle, wax dripping onto his fingers, he tilts the candle and lets a few heated droplets touch the skin over your womb.

You gasp, the skin there is a little more sensitive, the burn is more intense, more pain than pleasure but He doesn’t seem to care, simply continues to smile as he blows the candle out, putting it back on your nightstand.

There's still another candle on the other side, allowing you to see, though everything is just a little dimmer now.

Your skin tingles, warm, the dried wax on your skin cracks as you move, but you don't get a chance to focus on it too much, because as soon as Billy lets go of the candle, he's pressing into you with renewed vigour.

Your thighs tremble, tears pool in your eyes, He's rough, grunting with each stroke he makes, earning a reciprocated cry when his cock bottoms out inside of you each time.

Skin against skin, sweat glistens on his chest, you want to taste him.

“Say it again.” He commands, leaning over you to brush his lips to your ear, “Who do you worship?”

“You, Billy.” You respond eagerly, gripping his shoulders, pressing your nails in, listening to him hiss in response, gripping your jaw to bring you into a bruising kiss.

It's messy, his tongue dipping forcefully into your mouth like he owns you, his cock doing the same, taking everything as if it's owed.

You bite down on his bottom lip, hears him grunt out a manic laugh in response.

“You're all fucking mine.” He grits, leaning back and pulling your boneless body up until you're on top of him, his hands gripping your hips to keep you moving on his cock. You tuck your head into his neck, unable to be anything more than a receptacle, to take Him, over and over until he's finished with you.

“How does it feel to be saved by your new God?” He grunts between thrusts.

You can barely find the words to speak.

His hand slaps the flesh of your ass hard, demanding a response.

Cruel, you think, that He wants you to speak, that He thinks you're even capable of thought.

“Feels good.” You hum, fingers gripping his neck, nose to his jaw, taking what he gives, you tears dripping onto his collarbone.

He groans into your ear, it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard and you finally begin to understand true devotion.

“Please,” You beg, “Please.”

He grunts out a chuckle between thrusts.

“You don’t have to beg, I’m here, I’m not leaving.”

You tilt your head up, vision hazy, your body tingling with something too intense to be just bliss.

He kisses you softly one more time before dropping you back onto the bed, pushing your knees upward so that they’re almost to your ears.

He feels so much deeper this time, fucking you hard, merciless thrusts that has your cunt fluttering again, warning you that you’re on the right path to an orgasm.

He doesn’t stop, looking right into your eyes as he pushes his cock into you, over and over and over. You see stars, you see him, you see nothing else.

He licks his thumb, lips wet with saliva, he slips it between your bodies, angles it right against your clit, swipes gently from left to right.

You make a loud sound, followed by a flurry of pitiful whines, trying to warn him, to implore him. He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Your toes curl, one small breath of air before the most intense rush of ecstasy takes root in your body. You’re lost in the rapture, taken by the experience to even register the sounds you make.

You feel fire, you feel sparks, tingles that rush all over your skin, your inner walls gripping him so tightly as you’re forced to experience bliss at His hands.

He groans loudly, and before you know it he’s fucking into you rougher than before only for a moment before he makes a sharp sound of relief, cock pulsing as he spills himself into you.

You clench around him, making sure he gives you every drop of himself. Knowing that this is the right way to show your devotion.

There’s a moment of insecurity, when he crashes to the bed beside you, eyes closed, his breathing is quick, as if he’s just run for miles. You worry that once he’s had his fill of you, that he won’t be interested any more.

Your head is turned to look at him, lungs still heaving, the bliss of your orgasm hasn’t left you completely yet, and you watch him, curious to observe what he does next.

He peeks an eye open, mouth pulling into a smile that bares his teeth, he pushes himself up, crawls closer till he’s in the space between your body and arm, kissing at your cheek and shoulders softly.

It opens something inside of you, to feel that, to know without a doubt that He meant every word He said.

You raise your hand in wonder, fingers gently brushing His cheek, before pressing your palm to His face. 

He looks down at you, moves his own hand to run the backs of his fingers against your face, two people, finally seeing each other, finally showing themselves, unafraid.

It’s more than you could have ever hoped for.

.

Billy stands in the shadows, waiting.

He watches his targets leave the bar, two men, laughing with each other as they head to the nearby bus stop.

He follows, observing the way they move, trying to figure out just exactly how drunk they are. One wears a leather jacket, with his hair slicked back, the other wears a plain white t-shirt, and jeans.

They talk loudly, confessing to things Billy already knows about.

When one of them looks up, and sharply elbows the other, nodding to a place ahead, Billy knows what they see.

You lean against the bus stop, face buried in your phone, too occupied with it to notice that you’ve been spotted.

You’re beautiful, Billy muses, white dress, denim jacket, a little purse hanging from your elbow, standing under a small streetlight. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

The man in the leather jacket gets to you first, looking over your shoulder, peering into your phone looking at what you’re doing for a moment before saying something to you.

He watches you startle, look up at both men as they approach.

It’s like a dance, the way your fright gives them confidence, the manner in which you step back, warning them that you’re going to run before you actually do.

He smiles as you slip from their reaching grip, running into the nearest alley, he watches them take chase.

He moves faster, making sure there’s no chance of putting you in any real danger.

When he gets there, they’ve got you cornered, your back against a wall with them closing in. They’re too focused on you to ever notice him.

He takes a breath, waits for a moment, enjoys the thrill of what he’s about to feel.

When one of the men reaches to put his grimy hands on you, Billy strikes.

The man in the leather jacket makes a gurgling sound as his throat is cut wide open, splashing mostly on himself, but some of it gets on your dress and he knows he’ll get on his knees later to apologise for getting your dress messy, even though he knows you like it.

The other man can only make a single sound of terror before he’s falling to the floor, mouth agape as the handle of a knife protrudes from his eye.

He’s still alive, though not for long as Billy watches you drop to one knee, pulling the knife from his skull to plunge it into his vocal cords next. 

You look up at him, with bright eyes, excited to be doing this with him. He bites down on his bottom lip, thinks you look adorable when you’re seeking his approval.

He doesn’t care if the men are in their last moments, he reaches for you, grips the collar of your jacket and hauls you up, manoeuvring you until your back is pressed against the wall of the alley.

He drops his head, angles to place a fierce kiss on your lips, smearing blood on your face when he grips your jaw.

Billy pulls away, breathless, heart hammering with the thrill of murder, he looks into your eyes, and finds himself looking back.

He’s not surprised- simply acknowledging to himself that it’s what he’s been seeing the entire time, what he couldn’t put a name to when you first met, he now knows.

.

“And the lord said ‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me.’” 

It makes you look up, to meet Billy’s eyes.

You watch the corner of His mouth twitch in amusement.

.

[fluffyprettykitty]

Billy Russo's NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Billy Russo x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 2000 words

Warnings: oral sex, multiple sex positions, sex toys, gun kink, choking, temperature play, cum play, sub/dom roles, praise kink, phone sex, if I missed anything major please let me know!

Author’s Note: what won the poll yay! template can be found here! Dedicating to my fellow billy hoe @that-sarcastic-writer, ily, here's some porn <3

PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Billy is big into aftercare after sex, he likes taking care of their partner, soothing their skin, applying lotion, helping them shower, and cleaning them up thoroughly, he is into taking care of his own so he wants the same treatment for his partner.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy's favorite body part of his is of course his cock, he is the type of guy who has given a nickname to it and always refers to his cock as a second person rather than a body part. Now as for his partner Billy is into necks, he loves kissing and caressing and watching you squirm just from the most innocent touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Billy truly does love cumming, he says that it's a work of an art. and god's gift to mankind to cum on your body, he does prefer cumming on you rather than inside you cause he loves watching it spread but he's never opposed to a creampie either.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy would never directly tell you because he loves not losing control but he loves it when you take care of him, like praising him, telling how good he's doing, it just makes him go harder and rougher on you hearing your sweet praises. His pride though won't let him admit it because he also loves playing into the sensual dominant role as well.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Billy is one of the most experienced men in the world. He has been into women since he was a teen and knew how to chase them and make them his therefore there have been many one night stands in his life, some longer than one night and some multiple times a year. In short Billy has never met a woman he couldn't flirt with.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Billy loves it when you top him. He loves sitting back on the couch or the bed and watching you work your body on him. He will guide your hips or hold your back or your breasts helping you leverage your movements better. He is truly into the visuals and if he could he'd had you like this several times a day.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Billy is more serious than most, he loves praising you or guiding you and in a moment he might tell a joke to relax you a little but for the most part he sticks to the main part.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Billy is very much into himself therefore he takes really good care of his body with several trips to beauticians and what not so he is very well groomed and most clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can get very intimate as in he loves being a romantic a heart and he loves that primal position of taking care of a woman. He loves caressing you and soothing your skin and kissing you again and again making you feel loved in the moment and watching you look at him with eyes full of love. He will whisper several i love yous in the right moment when he feels the need to.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Billy mostly likes jacking off to your pictures or videos you took together when he's away on his business trips. He loves setting up his screen to watch your pretty body or calling you to hear your sexy voice and he grunts and strokes his cock when you tell him to. He is very into masturbating together over the phone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He is a very kinky man. There isn't any sexual position he hasn't yet tried but one of his favourites is lingerie. He loves buying you the goods himself and watching you model for him, or keeping one of your panties in his pocket.

Billy is also very very into choking you but also loves it when you choke him as well. He gets extremely aroused when you wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze and if it wasn't for his extraordinary military discipline he'd cum right there and then.

Another kink of his is temperature play, whether wax or ice or anything else he loves that slow sensual build it gives you, and loves taking his time fucking you and building up the suspense towards the main act.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Billy is the type of person who could have you anywhere and on any surface available but he's absolutely favorite is shoved up in a corner a little bit away from preying eyes because he honestly couldn't wait to get you home to fuck you. Second favourite is the car for the same reason. Then comes the bedroom only for that nice long morning fucks.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

What doesn't turn him on. Billy is a very horny man by design, because he's incredibly passionate and genuinely extremely active in all senses he rarely rests. Being in the same room with you is what drives him crazy the most, he can't spend too much time together without wanting to fuck you or thinking of how to shove you in the nearest corner. If anything you've always wondered how he can live with constantly having an almost hard-on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Billy would never do something you didn't want to do. He is very big on boundaries and discussing kinks and what not with each other.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Billy does love giving more than receiving only cause he is such an expert with his tongue and he knows how much you also love it. Billy loves taking his time and turning into an all night activity with his shirt off cause he will get sweaty, his fingers working inside you or on your thighs and his tongue close to your cunt teasing you and working you. He also loves eating you out from the back whenever he watches you lean a little too much on the counter and he can barely help himself. Billy also likes when you ride his face whenever work stresses you a little too much.

Now as for him, he is never opposed to one although his favorite is when you want to do it while he's driving. Something about your mouth on him, your ass up with his spare hand slapping you or fingering you gives him such an insane power trip that keeps him going. Although he never would say no to a messy blowjob when he's working hard on a case.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Billy can truly be anything you need him to be. Fast or slow, he loves to build it all to keep the momentum and give you the maximum pleasure. Billy switches it up several times, going from slow to rough back to slowly kissing right before hitting the edge and back at it again. At stressful days at work he works your body like a boxing cage and on other days he works your body like a violin. It all depends on the circumstances.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is not opposed to a quickie although he does prefer it longer. He usually goes that route during dinner parties or outings with other people. He is incapable of keeping his hands to himself even if you had fucked a minute before arriving everywhere so his option to not let other people get too suspicious is a quickie. A quick fill as he loves to call it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Billy loves experimenting, trying new things, new positions, several role play parts, trying out new toys or new ways. He is a very risky man in all aspects of his life so he makes sure his bedroom activities are also extremely adventurous.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Billy's stamina is incredible, he is the very definition of an insatiable man and therefore it's hard for him to stop. He could last a whole day teasing your denying you his cock when he feels like to but if you keep on teasing him yourself he would try his very best to please you. He always make sure you cum first regardless, but mostly he gives it all in the end.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Billy didn't had toys on his own before he met you but after he managed to build quite a collection. All of different speeds and volumes and what not, all to be used on you, when you get him his first cocksucker he almost whines about it but he does secretly use it when he's away. Now as for the cock ring he keeps it on until you tell him to take it off and he listens like the good boy he is!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Billy loves to tease but his endgame is always to fuck so his teasing doesn't take too long to stop. He just loves watching you squirm in the moment until you beg him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Billy can ber very loud for a man, he moans and grunts and talks a lot during the act. He moans when he eats you, he grunts when he fucks you and he groans when he gets inside you. It's hard for other people not to hear you when you go at it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Billy does love his toys. But what he loves the most is his guns. He is not one to hesitate to use it during the act once he knows he can trust you and you are about as crazy as he is. He loves taking the cool metal side up your things and teasing your entrance till he slips int inside and in the same vain he likes it when he keeps it against your neck fucking you from behind. He might like it a little bit more when he also makes you cum on it and then has you lick it clean but that's for you to find out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Billy has a perfect adonis-like body, his military training has given him the discipline and the motivation to always keep at it so this with the combination of how well-groomed he is gives him the perfect body. Now as for his cock, he is a bit lengthy cause of his tall build and girthy enough to make you remember him forever.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Billy has an incredible sex drive because he is a constantly horny man. Even worse than a teenage boy. He is always ready for it anywhere and in any place.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Billy does sleep quickly afterward especially after having taken a shower with you and wrapping you tenderly inside his arms. He sleeps with his chin on your shoulder and drifts when your breaths match up.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[chvoswxtch]

invasion of privacy

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank catches you with something you shouldn't have, and your world gets turned upside down in more ways than one.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence

word count: 2.1k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoyed the nice & light hearted last chapter, because we are kicking up the drama from here on out. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

“What’s this?”

“Hm?”

You were in the process of proofreading through your latest article one more time before submitting it to Ellison, and your attention was focused solely on the mountainous layers of black text on the screen in front of you. 

“This.”

Frank’s voice rang harshly in your ears, and the shift from his previous gentle inquisitive tone jarred you to the point of whiplash and broke your concentration completely. Turning to face him in puzzlement, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized what he was holding.

The file with his name on it.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size, and they hesitantly raised to meet Frank’s. The warm melted chocolate of his irises had darkened considerably with anger, and you could see a ring of betrayal burning around his pupils.

“I don’t know.”

Frank let out a dry scoff when you blurted your words out, his jaw clenching so tight you swore you could hear the way his teeth ground together from across the room. There was a chaotic frenzy disrupting his usual calm demeanor as he looked through the contents of the file. Every single page he furiously flipped through was another drop of gasoline trickling towards an unavoidable explosion.

Whatever was inside that file, it turned Frank into a man you didn’t recognize. 

You quickly rose from your chair to take the stand in your own defense, hands outstretched in an olive branch towards him.

“Frank, I swear. I haven’t looked at it-”

“Bullshit!”

The catastrophic boom of Frank’s voice echoing around your office startled you, and the four walls suddenly felt a lot thinner with his massive fuming frame taking up a majority of the space. His reaction had anxiety racing through your bloodstream, but your anger always managed to come out on top.

“I haven’t. I didn’t go looking for that, Frank. Someone left it on my desk-”

“When.”

A sudden wash of guilt doused the unjustified irritation you felt. Frank stared you down from across the room, the flimsy material of the file succumbing to the strength of his hand, his features a concoction of fury and treachery. You had to avert your iniquitous gaze to confess.

“After the gala.”

Frank blew out a deep exhale through his nose, incredulity blowing his eyes wide open as he chuckled humorlessly.

“That was a fuckin’ month ago.”

“I never opened it. I forgot I even had it-”

“You expect me to believe that? You been carryin’ this goddamn thing in your purse every fuckin’ day for a month now, and you ain’t read it? You just forgot it was there? Just cause I don’t have a fancy ass degree don’t make me fuckin’ stupid. You fuckin’ reporters, you’ll do fuckin’ anythin’, yeah?”

Frank’s voice got louder and louder with each word, like warning claps of thunder that signaled how close you were to an inevitable downpour. He was nearly yelling by the time his heavy boots brought him right in front of you, and you found yourself staring down the eye of a violent hurricane. 

For the first time since you had met Frank, you were afraid of him. 

Even though you felt frozen in place, your fingers shook violently with trepidation at your sides. You couldn’t look away from the storm brewing hastily in his eyes. You just hoped he could see past his own wrath to find the truth in yours.

“I didn’t read it because I thought it would be an invasion of privacy.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed into accusatory slits, his nostrils flaring to accommodate his furious exhales. His voice had a sharp edge to it that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

“Invasion of privacy. That’s real goddamn rich.”

There was nothing you could do. He had all the evidence for a conviction. You had been caught at the scene of the crime, and all you could do was beg for a lenient sentence.

“Frank-”

At that moment, your door swung open to reveal a very distressed looking Billy Russo. When his lips parted to speak, he suddenly paused, as if the tension lingering thick in the room was as visible as a dense fog, and his eyes flickered between you and Frank before settling on you almost in an expression of concern.

“Sorry if this is a bad time, but we gotta talk.”

A sense of relief immediately rushed through you at Billy’s intrusion, grateful to not be alone in your small office with an incredibly pissed off Frank Castle. Billy didn’t miss the way you practically sprinted towards him without another look at Frank.

“We can talk in the conference room if you-”

“Actually, I need to talk to both of you.”

Billy looked directly over your head to stare at Frank. There was a look on his face that you didn’t know him well enough to read, but as you glanced over your shoulder at Frank, you noticed that his face was void of any anger and instead had morphed into confusion. When you looked back in Billy’s direction, he was staring down at you with clear remorse carved onto his sharp features.

“There ain’t no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna get right to it. Homeland is pullin’ your detail.”

All of the oxygen in your lungs felt like it had been knocked completely out with that one sentence. You gaped at Billy, and his lips tugged downwards in a pitiful frown.

“I’m sorry-”

“What?”

You could hear Frank stalking over towards the both of you, and the evident skepticism and irritation that layered his gruff voice. But his and Billy’s voices sounded muffled in your ears, as if your head was submerged underwater.

“Look, I wasn’t happy about it, alright? They don’t think she’s a prime target anymore-”

“The hell she ain’t. Those assholes-”

“Found a new target. More high profile. Cause of that and the fact that they ain’t threatened her in over a month, they’re pullin’ her detail and it’s gettin’ reassigned.”

“To who, Bill?”

Billy’s eyes flickered to meet yours, and you could see the apprehension shining in them along with a sliver of guilt.

“Who is it, Billy?”

The clear defeat in your quiet voice made him sigh, and his lips parted as he stared down at you in contrite-ridden sympathy, as if he was trying to figure out how to soften the blow of whatever was about to come next. 

“Steven Price.”

Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt at that moment. While you were navigating your disbelief and confusion, Frank was battling to control his already unraveling vexation.

“What?”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin' me.”

Billy glanced between you and Frank when you spoke at the same time. He completely ignored Frank’s outburst as he brought his hand up to gently place on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze in a gesture of comfort. He let out another sigh of exasperation while he gazed down at you.

“Homeland wants to keep this under wraps, they ain’t even lettin’ it hit the media, but you deserve an explanation. This is off the record. Price’s office got a threat letter with demands forty eight hours ago, and yesterday a vehicle that was supposed to be takin’ him to a debate was blown up. Lucky for him, he wasn’t in it. Local news was told to report that it wasn’t a terrorist attack, just a faulty engine or somethin’. They’re tryin’ to avoid more mass panic. But, Homeland is takin’ it extra seriously-”

“Because of his family name and position.”

There was complete detachment in your voice as the reality of the situation sank in. Steven was more valuable to them. He was the one they thought was worth protecting. No one would bat an eye if a lowly journalist was murdered by a terrorist group that she antagonized. But a man that came from one of the oldest wealthy families in New York that had connections all over the world and was currently running a political campaign? That would be front page news.

“You really wanna protect that asshole?”

Billy dropped his hand from your shoulder to turn and face Frank, clearly annoyed by his inquisition.

“Of course I don’t. But Homeland-”

“Fuck Homeland. It’s your company, Bill. You can say no.”

Frank’s voice had an eerie calmness to it, but it was convoluted with reminiscent indignation and the faintest sting of an allegation.

“You think I didn’t try? I don’t think you understand the situation I’m bein’ put in right now, Frank.”

Billy and Frank appeared to be in some kind of silent standoff as they stared each other down. Billy wore his mixed emotions of annoyance and dubiety clearly on his face, and it translated into the way his fingers twitched at his sides. The slight furrow of his brows showed that he was upset by Frank’s unspoken challenge that he wasn’t fully utilizing his power like he had said. 

Frank on the other hand was completely stoic. The only giveaway he had about this whole situation at all was the glow of rage still burning in his eyes. 

“When’s this happenin’?”

The placation in Frank’s gruff voice bothered you. It sounded like he was routinely asking Billy about the weather, not when you were gonna be thrown to the wolves to fend for yourself.

Billy straightened his shoulders as he stared at Frank for a moment, pursing his lips into a thin line.

“Already has. I came to collect you and the others.”

You suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous with the way your heart had plummeted into the pit of your stomach. 

This was really happening. 

“Listen, darlin’-”

“It’s not your fault, Billy.”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at either of them. Not that Frank probably would even look at you. He hadn’t so much as glanced at you in the slightest since Billy walked through that door. A deep sigh sounded beside you as an expensive sterling silver tie clip came into view. Billy braced his hands on your shoulders and dipped his head to catch your eye line. There was an expression of severity on his face, like you had seen when he held you in this exact same way in front of the elevators the night of the gala.

“I’m gonna figure somethin’ out for you, alright? I’m not gonna leave you hangin’. Just…sit tight. Try not to cause any trouble.”

Billy attempted to flash you a charming smile, but it didn’t even meet the edges of his lips. After giving him a small nod, he stared at you for another minute with an unreadable expression this time before giving your shoulders one final squeeze and taking a step back. He momentarily glanced over at Frank.

“I’ll be waitin’ out front.”

Billy granted you one final look of condolence before leaving you alone with Frank.

When you turned to face him, he wasn’t even looking at you. He was staring at your office door that Billy had just left through with a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. He almost looked completely indifferent, but there was an aura of suspicion staining that callousness. You swore you heard every tick of the clock snapping clearly in your ears for the next sixty seconds before he finally shifted his attention to you.

Frank’s face was completely blank. There wasn’t a shade of an emotion that you could detect. His features weren’t twisted up in any kind of clues. He looked just as impassive as he had the first day that you had met him. Seeing him revert to that state after months of progression in your complicated relationship hurt worse than any heartbreak you had ever experienced. 

He was staring at you like you were a stranger on the street.

Frank wordlessly folded up the file and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, his vacant eyes staring into your pleading gaze. At this point, you wished he would go back to yelling at you. You would take something, anything other than this tortuous silent treatment.

He wouldn’t actually leave you like that, would he? He said he wouldn’t. He swore he wouldn’t. Frank would always be there for you, to keep you safe. That’s what he had promised. 

Right?

You waited for him to say something. You stared at him in desperate expectancy for him to do something to fix this nightmare. You held your breath for him to make the same promise that Billy had, to figure something out.

But as quietly as Frank had come into your life, he was now slipping out silently.

And just like that, he was gone.

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed@fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe

[captain-fantasy]

PLEASEEEE CONTINUE A CHAPTER OF MINE WITH BEN BARNESSS PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE IM BEGGING YOUUUUU

Surrender - Billy Russo x f!reader

Sequel to Mine which you can read here

Warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, no review

author's note: giving the people what they want

The walk back home from the party was tense. You couldn’t shake off the weight of the words that had come out from Billy. The revelation of his feelings for you had affected you in ways you hadn’t expected. 

When you reached your apartment, neither of you said a word. Instead, you opened the door and shrugged off your coat, handing it to Billy so he could hang it on one of the hooks on the wall. Still in silence, you crossed the room and opened the doors to the balcony, stepping outside and letting the soothing night breeze brush against your skin, momentarily relieving the heat that had built up inside you throughout the night. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice when Billy approached you, his voice being the first to break the silence. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice light. 

Startled, you turn to face him, momentarily at a loss for words. He wore an unreadable expression, his features concealed by the shadows of the night. 

“Of course,” you whispered, unsure if your voice was strong enough to speak normally. 

The two of you sat silently for a moment, the faint sounds of cars driving below and dull city noise from outside. 

“I think we need to figure out what we want,” Billy started.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment, the air heavy with tension. Billy’s intense gaze bore into your eyes, his black eyes reflecting a dark storm. There was a fire within him, a volatile mixture of emotions threatening to consume both of you. But behind that facade, you saw a vulnerability you’d never noticed. 

You reached out and placed a hand on his, the connection sparking an electric current that pulsed between you. “I agree,” you whispered, your voice filled with apprehension, “We can’t ignore what’s between us anymore.”

Billy’s gaze softened, the storm within his eyes receding to reveal a glimmer of hope. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. The touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire deep within your core. 

“I don’t know what came over me tonight, y/n. I think- Seeing you with Matt I-, It drove me crazy. I wanted you all to myself. I’m drawn to you; I have been since we met. Every night we’re together, I can’t get enough.”

Your heart swelled at his words, his vulnerability taking your breath away. At that moment, you realized the depth of his emotions, the intensity of his desire. It was a revelation that left you trembling, yearning for more. 

“Billy,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, “I feel the same way. Every minute without you feels like a part of me is missing. You complete me, Bill. Your hands, your eyes, your touch. I’m in love with every part of you.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss that ignited a fire within you. It was an act of surrender, a melody of two souls finally finding harmony. The world faded away, and you were consumed by the intensity of your shared connection.

At that moment, time ceased to exist. Your bodies intertwined, moving with a rhythm that defied words. It was a language only you two understood, a symphony of desire and passion that painted the night with the colors of ecstasy.

Billy’s kiss got more insistent, needier. His hands had begun to slip underneath the hem of your skirt, tracing dangerously close to the wet spot in your underwear that had reappeared when he started touching you. Your skin felt like it was on fire, your breaths were short, and Billy’s beard left a slight burn while he bit at the skin on your neck. Your breathing quickened, and your head turned to reveal a nearly empty street. Suddenly, you were aware that you were still technically in public, and anyone who looked at your building would receive an eyeful from you and Billy. 

“Bill-hey, maybe we shouldn’t do this here-”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against your skin. His lips had begun to travel down your body, leaving fresh marks on your chest and neck. He pushed the material around your thighs as he met your waist, letting it bunch above your hips, allowing better access to where he wanted. He could see the effect he had on you for the first time. The wet spot on your underwear had gradually grown, making Billy smirk at how easily he could mold you into putty whenever he touched you. 

“Please, Billy,” you whined. Your fingers brushed through Billy’s hair, trying to pull him where you wanted him the most. Your neediness made him chuckle, his eyes staring up at you while he placed a soft kiss and licked your clothed clit. 

His nails scratched your skin as he pulled your almost entirely soaked-through panties down your legs. Billy gathered some of the wetness that had begun to drip onto your thighs with his index finger, pushing it into you and grazing over your clit. Your head fell back as he slid his tongue into your entrance, spreading it flat before dragging it up, driving you crazy. 

The moans he was letting out vibrated through your entire body, focusing on your clit as he sucked it between his teeth, using one hand to expertly curl his fingers into your sopping entrance while the other held onto your thigh to keep you still. 

Your whines became short and breathy as you tried to muffle them, hands tightly gripping the railing to keep yourself from falling over. You finally felt a sweet release as it poured out of you, allowing Billy to drink it. You were sure that if you let go of the railing, your legs would completely give out underneath you, so you decided it was best to keep your grip on it. 

Once Billy decided he had sufficiently cleaned you up, he stood up, towering over you, his eyes black and hooded, full of lust. He kissed you again, this time tenderly, sweetly. You could taste yourself on him when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, delicately exploring yours as if it were new terrain for him. You could feel his bulge through his pants. Deciding to be bold, you slipped your hand under his waistband, smiling when you heard him make a strained moan. He was painfully hard as he stared at you, silently begging you for more. 

You slipped his pants down just enough to pull his length out, your soft palm massaging the precum out of his cock. You released your grip on the balcony railing, moving it to rest on his shoulder, pulling him close to you. His hands were stationed on your waist, his sight focused on the dirty image of his cock diving into you. Your moans synchronized when he was entirely inside you, allowing you to feel every vein and twitch of his cock, a luxury you weren’t awarded earlier in the night when he roughly pounded into you in a stranger’s bedroom. 

This was different, something you hadn’t experienced with him. It was full of love. Every touch, kiss, and heavy breath showed you there was more to Billy than you thought. 

These thoughts faded when you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm again. Billy’s sloppy thrusts and tight grip on you showed you he was close too but insisted on holding off until you came first. Relief wasn’t far, though, as you came almost instantly when his cock touched your g-spot perfectly, causing every hair on your body to stand up and warmth to wash over you like warm water. He finished soon after you, his hips slightly stuttering before fully pushing himself in you, tight ropes of cum filling your belly. 

As your breathing regulated, you looked up at him, your chests becoming in sync. His eyes, once filled with the intensity of passion, now held a new warmth, a tenderness that wasn’t there mere minutes ago. The streets were hushed, the echoes of your shared ecstasy slowly dissipating. 

You traced a finger along his jawline, marveling at the subtle changes in his expression. The rugged exterior he often wore was gone. Instead, it was as if the layers of his past were shed, revealing a man desperate for connection. 

“I never expected this,” he whispered, his voice laced with awe. “To feel this connected to another person again.”

You smiled, your heart brimming with affection. You couldn’t find any words that would describe your love, but you figured you would have time to show him. 

As you sat there, bodies still intertwined, you knew that this moment was the beginning of a new chapter. You nestled closer to Billy, your bodies finding comfort in each other’s embrace. In the serenity of that shared embrace, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you would be doing together. 

buy me a ko-fi?

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

anti-heroe // billy russo

Summary: You’re assigned to eliminate Frank Castle. But how can you do it? He’s your boyfriend’s best friend. And Billy has no idea you used to kill for money.

Pairing: Billy Russo x BlackWidow!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: soft billy, implied smut, murder, stabbing, blood, lame descriptions of fighting, angst, a bit of fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Thanks to @wannab-urs​ for proofreading this!

main masterlist

Karen was already in bed when the sound of frantic knocking on her door startled her. Her heart raced as the sound grew louder and more insistent with each passing moment. She turned to the alarm clock on her bed table flashing 10:30 pm.

Who could be knocking at this hour?

She slowly got up and crept toward the door. As she got closer, the knocking continued, and she heard a faint voice calling out her name.

She cautiously opened the door, her features quickly twisting into a horrified expression at the scene in front of her eyes — you, bleeding, the handle of a knife protruding from your stomach, your left arm loosely hanging on the neck of a blonde woman who had her arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady.

“A little help here?”

48 HOURS EARLIER

The sun was rising and the birds were singing outside. A strong arm was wrapped around your waist, and his breath was hitting the back of your neck. You smiled and snuggled into his warm chest, feeling content and happy. Even though you'd only been together for a little over a year, you couldn't imagine living without the feeling of being in his arms.

Billy stirred behind you, and you felt his arm tighten around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, leaving scorching open-mouthed kisses there. 

Those three little words were enough to make your heart flutter.

You turned to face him, and he trailed his lips toward yours. You gazed into his eyes, taking in the moment. You had never considered yourself a lucky person, but meeting Billy changed your outlook on life. Being there, nestled in his arms, made the world outside seem less twisted. Billy's embrace erased every negative memory, feeling, or thought you had. You were safe there, with him. He was home.

You knew you were in love with the ex-marine, but you were wise to refrain from saying the three words. Frank had made it a point, when you and Billy got together, to inform you that this was Billy's first serious relationship --finally choosing quality over quantity. You weren't sure if he was trying to scare you or what, but it had the opposite effect. It gave you some kind of... confidence? Because this was also your first serious relationship. Well, it was your first relationship. Period.

You didn’t want to scare him with these feelings, especially when you weren’t sure if they were reciprocated. So you preferred to keep basking in what you had. 

“Good morning, handsome,” you whispered softly against his lips. Your breath mingled with his before you crashed your lips against his, in a not-so-soft kiss.

You were soon trapped beneath him, and although having Billy Russo on top of you was very enticing, and you would have taken that road any other day, you put a palm on his chest, backing him up a little.

“I have to go to work, and so do you.”

Billy groaned in frustration.

“You don’t have to work in that dreadful place; you know you could work for me.” 

It wasn't the first time Billy had offered you a position at ANVIL so you wouldn't have to work at the coffee shop, and just like the other times, you turned the offer down.

“So everyone can gossip that I made my way there through being tangled in the boss’ sheets? Thank you, but no.”

“You know I wouldn’t let anybody shame you like that,” he said it in such a convincing and certain tone that it almost convinced you. Almost.

“You can’t control anything, Billy.”

“I sure can try.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and bring him down toward you, minimizing the gap between the two of you. 

“I like my job.”

“No, you don’t.”

No, you didn’t. You hated how well he knew you. But the truth is, the job at the coffee shop is the best you could aspire for—You didn't even have a high school diploma; you didn’t have anything to apply for a well-paying proper job. And part of the reason you didn’t take Billy’s offer was because you didn’t want him to pity you or just give you a good position because you were his girlfriend.

“Just hear me out,” Billy said, his voice earnest. “You're smart, hardworking, and I know you would excel in a corporate setting. Plus, we could spend even more time together.”

You sighed. “Billy, I appreciate your confidence in me, but I want to earn my own success, not just have it handed to me because of our relationship."

“I’m not gonna convince you, am I?”

You shook your head, “But you’re always welcome to try.”

You closed the gap and let yourself get lost in him.

Today was a particularly busy day. You were wiping down counters and restocking coffee mugs when you saw a familiar face that made your stomach drop.

You could feel her eyes on you as you continued to wipe down the counter. You tried to complete your task quickly, hoping that you could escape to the back room before she had the chance to say anything. But before you were able to get away, she waved you over to her table.

You took a seat across from her and nervously fiddled with your apron. She seemed delighted to see you, greeting you like you were long-time friends, with a smile plastered on her face that you could tell was far from being genuine.

“What are you doing here, Valentina?” you sighed.

It was obvious she didn’t make her way to the coffee shop you worked at just because she was a coffee lover. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine never did anything without a motive.

“I have a job for you.”

You squint your eyes at the woman.

“I’m retired. Go and find someone else.”

You promised yourself when you got free that you’d never go back to that life. You couldn't undo what you'd done in the past, but you weren’t under chemical subjugation anymore, you were free, and you wanted to live a normal life — the life you never had the opportunity to have. The life Dreykov took away from you when you were barely three years old, and he decided an orphan child would be a good killing machine someday. You’d spent the last 25 years of your life being a puppet, and you refused to be one again.

“You’re going to be interested in this one. Trust me,” she insisted. 

You knew the woman well enough to know she wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you noticed the queue of people forming behind her. 

“I have a break in five minutes.”

You opened the door of the shop and a gust of wind hit your face. You were relieved to be out of the cramped, stuffy store taking a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. You started walking down the street, feeling the wind tousling your hair.

You reached a nearby alley, knowing Valentina was waiting for you. It had been about a year since you last saw the woman. You had no idea how she had found you because you thought you had done a fantastic job of remaining under her radar. You doubted Yelena had sold you out, that was not typical of her.

“Well?” You asked as you rounded the corner. Just as you had anticipated, there she was. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine's composure and elegance were nearly impossible to overlook. Though this clearly wasn't her preferred hangout, it didn't appear to bother her. She was a woman who could adapt to anything, never looking out of place even when she so clearly stood out.. 

Her appearance matched her personality; Valentina was a powerful woman who easily influenced people; fortunately for you, you knew her well enough not to fall for her ruses.

She handed you the file she was holding when she walked in the coffee shop before. “They’re offering $200,000 to take him down.” 

You glanced bewildered at the woman. That was a substantial sum of money. 

“Why me?” You inquired. 

“Because you’re the best.”

You averted your gaze from her and opened the file. The blood drained from your face when you saw the picture of the man in the file.

“Who wants him dead?”

“That I can’t tell.”

Your attention remained fixated on the photograph, as a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts raced through every inch of your body.

“Well, what do you say? Do you want to get back into business, or do you want to spend the rest of your life pouring coffee and struggling to make ends meet?”

You closed the file and tossed it to her. 

“I’m not gonna kill Frank Castle.”

“You’re too quiet,” Billy pointed. He had noticed something was worrying you. Yet he was hesitant to ask you. The last thing he wanted was to upset you more. But as the night went on your distress didn’t subside, and he started to get really worried.

You looked at him, “I’m fine,” you simply said. 

“No, you’re not,” he grabbed the book you were pretending to read, “Did something happen at work?”

You shook your head.

“What’s worrying you, love?”

You sighed. You didn’t want to lie to him, but you couldn’t tell him the truth either. “Just tired. It’s been a busy day.”

You knew he wasn't fooled by your pathetic excuse, but fortunately, he didn't press the issue.

“I can help you relax,” he said instead, pulling a strand of hair out of the way so he could kiss your neck, moving up the line of your jaw and back down your throat.. His lips moved along your skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the sensation, feeling your body come alive with anticipation.

You needed a distraction right now, and Billy was always too good at taking your mind off problems.

“Yes, please,” your voice came as a faint whisper, just barely audible to him.

“Anything you want?”

You turned to look at him and soon you were lost in his dark eyes. His eyes held so much emotion that it felt like you could combust.

“Just make me forget my shitty day.”

A smirk lifted in his perfect features, “That I can do.” 

He easily lifted you off the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist, one arm loosely draped around his neck while your other hand gripped his jaw and you collided your lips against his in a sloppy kiss as he carried you to the bedroom.

You raised your hand and knocked on Yelena's apartment door. After a few seconds of waiting, she heard footsteps approaching. The door opened, revealing a disheveled Yelena.

“What was the emergency?” Yelena asked, as you stepped inside and glanced around the apartment. It was bigger than yours, but just as cluttered. 

“Hope, it’s not too early,” you said when you saw her yawning.

“No. Not at all. I was already up anyways,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “So what brings you here?”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” Yelena said as she headed to the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” You replied as you followed Yelena. “Has Val contacted you?”

Yelena turned around, visibly surprised. “No, she hasn’t. I’m on holiday.”

“Good for you,” you muttered dryly. “She came to my workplace to offer me a job.”

“How did she find you?”

“Good question. But that’s not why I’m here. The target she offered me is my friend’s boyfriend.”

“Well, that sucks.”

Typical Yelena. Emphatic as always.

“Who do you think is going to take over?” You asked her, “Sonya? Maybe Antonia?”

Yelena shrugged, “No idea.”

“Come on, Yelena. An innocent man could die!” You exclaimed, exasperated.

Sometimes her emotional detachment drove you insane.

“If Val took the case he’s not innocent.”

“I know this dude, he’s a good man.” 

You were sure that whoever ordered this murder was someone with a vendetta against The Punisher and they didn’t want to get their hands dirty by doing the job themselves.

“And what do you want us to do?”

“Protect him.”

“You said you didn’t want to get involved in this life again!” Yelena exclaimed.

“I’m not gonna murder anyone. I'm going to stop someone from being killed." You defended yourself..

“Who is this guy anyway?”

“Frank Castle.”

“The Punisher?” Yelena's eyes widened in surprise. Oh, so she knows him. “He’s a 40-year-old man with military training, I think he’s more than capable of protecting himself.”

“Not against one of us,” you said. Yelena looked at you, “Do you think another widow is going to balk when she has to pull the trigger and put a bullet through his head with a sniper rifle?”

“Ты и твой героиновый комплекс,” she murmured under her breath.

“пожалуйста сестра,” you pleaded

“Do you have a crush on this guy or something?”

“What? No! I just told you he’s my friend’s boyfriend, and not only that but my boyfriend’s best friend.”

“You got yourself a boyfriend? Damn, girl, you livin’ the good life,” she made a brief pause, then asked, “Is he hot?” She wriggled her eyebrows and you let out a chuckle.

“He’s so fucking hot.”

You almost forgot what it was like to be on a mission —spying on someone, following their movements, watching and learning their weakness.  This time was different. For the first time, you weren’t learning the best way to kill a target. You were learning how to protect one.

You and Yelena found yourselves crouched on the rooftop of the building opposite Frank's apartment. From there you had the perfect view of his house and the street. He hadn’t left his place since you arrived a few hours ago, which made things a little easier. 

“There’s someone else there with him,” Yelena said, looking through the binoculars. 

You turned to her, “What? No one has entered the building since we arrived.”

“Maybe he was already there, just out of view.”

You took the binoculars from her hands and brought them close to your eyes. 

“Oh no.” 

Your voice betrayed you and it didn’t pass Yelena who started to swamp you with questions. “What? You know the other guy? Is he a threat? Should we intervene?” 

“What’s Billy doing here?”

It only complicated things more. God, you hated your life.

“Wait… Is that lover boy?” She took the binoculars from your hands. “Черт, он горячий. Вы точно знаете, как их выбирать.”

She then turned your attention to you. “Does he know?”

You knew exactly what she meant by that.

“No.”

“It's better that way.”

You turned to her, “Is it? Because I feel immense guilt every time I look at him. Every time he asks me about my childhood and I have to feed him lies, I feel like a horrible person. Especially when he has been nothing but honest with me.”

“If you had told him the truth he would have run out,” you looked at her, she paused briefly and then continued, “We’re not like Natasha. We’re not an Avenger. We’re not the trained killer on the cover of a magazine that kids call their hero. And you may have left this life, but this life never leaves you. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

You wanted to believe that Billy would have understood what you went through. He had to, right? Then why haven’t you told him.

“They’re leaving.”

Yelena’s voice pulled you out of your trance. Seconds later, Billy and Frank were walking out the doors of the building. Not much later, a dark figure appeared from a nearby alley and was now discreetly following the men.

“We have to go down,” you said as you reached for a wire to attach to the front of the building, but your friend reached her hand, stopping you.

“Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

You didn’t want to take any chances. You pulled on your mask and night vision goggles, concealing your entire face. You secured your grappling hook on the rooftop and started repelling down to the ground. You moved quickly and gracefully, making it look easy.

“ебать,” Yelena muttered under her breath before following your actions.

You didn't exactly land quietly; as you neared the bottom, you let go of the rope and slid to the ground. And the fact that there wasn't a single soul on the street didn't help either. Billy and Frank didn't have time to acknowledge your presence before Yelena landed next to you and another three people stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path.

“What the fuck?” you muttered to yourself. 

“What the hell is this?” Frank demanded..

“You pissin’ the wrong people off again, Frankie?”

The dark figure that had come out of the alley was still behind the two men, you lifted your right arm, the Widow’s bite ready to take the aim, and in the blink of an eye, an electrical discharge hit them. One down.

At this, two of the other persons dressed in black attacked Billy and Frank. Frank threw a punch at one of them, and Billy kicked the other one. The last one standing made a move toward you, but before you could hit them with a taser disk, Yelena took them out with a bullet in their skull.

The sound of the shot bounced off the silence of the street, and it only made the other two people who were fighting Billy and Frank fight harder. One of them pulled a knife from their suit pocket, and nimbly slashed Frank across the face, followed by a kick to the chest that staggered Frank a bit. In turn, the other fighter had managed to immobilize your boyfriend, forcing him to his knees and  aiming a Heckler & Koch P30 at his head.

Rage ran through your blood, “Я бы не стал этого делать, если бы я был тобой,” you stepped closer, “держись от него подальше.”

They laughed at you in response, which only infuriated you more. You sprinted at them, and with a swift flick of your leg, you knocked the revolver out of their hand, freeing Billy from their clutches. 

You took a  swing at the masked attacker, who easily blocked it and then jumped back to avoid the next one. You moved with grace and precision, as if you had been born to fight, and in a way, you had been. They were struggling to keep up, you could sense their desperation, and took advantage of it. 

You went for the kill. You delivered a powerful kick that sent the attacker against the building’s wall. They tried to stand up, but you had already moved in for the finishing move. You grabbed their neck and twisted it sharply, breaking it in one swift move.

When you turned to see if Yelena was okay, you noticed the one Frank had been fighting lay  motionless on the ground. He reached down and removed the mask his adversary had been wearing the entire time, revealing a young dark-haired woman no older than 30 years old.

So you were correct. They all were Widows.

“You know this woman?” He asked, turning to face your boyfriend, who was approaching him.

Billy inspected the woman's face and then shook his head. Then, the two men's attention was drawn toward you and Yelena. 

“Мы должны уйти. Наша работа здесь сделана,” Yelena said when she sensed their gaze on her.

“Oh dear, no one is leaving. The fun has just begun.”

That didn't come from any of you, but rather from a newcomer to the scene —a redhead in a white suit.

Why wasn’t she wearing a mask like the others?

A gun was visible in one of her suit's front pockets, and she held a dagger in her right hand. She moved to strike Frank, but you stepped in the line of fire, your body taking the full brunt of the impact. You grunted in agony as the cold dagger pierced your stomach and the redhead twisted it inside you.

The two men were frozen at the scene that had just unfolded in front of their eyes. Yelena screamed for you. She sprang into action and charged at the redhead, punching her and deflecting every blow and kick from her, eventually knocking her to the ground. The redhead was helpless and Yelena was filled with rage, her knuckles turning white as she grasped the woman’s throat. Yelena tightened her grip and squeezed, the woman's eyes widened in shock and then she was still.

Meanwhile, you were on your knees, bleeding on the street, the dagger still piercing your stomach, your breath shallow and feeble. You felt Yelena kneel by your side.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she tried to reassure you, but it was clear from her wavering voice she needed as much convincing as you.

“Your friend needs to go to the hospital,” Frank said, concerned. Even if he had no idea who you were, you had saved his life for whatever reason. 

“Yeah? And what do we tell them?” Yelena’s voice was strained. She wasn’t a particularly  emotional person, but you also knew you were as important to her as she was to you. Yelena was fiercely protective of the people she cared about, and she was not going to let you die. 

She helped you get up on your feet, carefully. You clenched your teeth, trying not to scream from the pain. Yelena supported your weight and began walking along the street.

“Where are you going?” This time was Billy who yelled, incredulously. 

But even if you were walking at a slow pace, the men did not try to stop you.

“A little help here?”

She quickly ushered you and Yelena inside, her mind racing with questions.

“What happened?” Karen asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. “We have to get her to a hospital.”

“N-No hospitals,” you said weakly, as Yelena gently placed you on Karen’s couch

“Are you going to tell me what happened, Y/N?” Karen inquired once again.

“She saved your boyfriend’s life,” Yelena dropped the words venomously. Even if she didn’t know Karen, she couldn't help but be disgusted by her. It was your friendship with the journalist that made you jump between her boyfriend and that fucking knife. So yes, she blamed her for the whole situation you were in. 

“What? Someone tried to kill Frank?” 

So much information for Karen to comprehend all at once, and then more knocks were pounded on the door. 

“Karen, open the door!” That was Frank’s distinct voice.

“Do not open it,” Yelena snarled.

Karen turned to face you, then to the door that Frank was hammering on. She didn’t know what to do.

“Karen, open the goddamn door!”

She sighed. She didn’t have a choice; if she didn’t open the door she knew her boyfriend would break it down. 

“Are you okay?” It was the first thing he asked when Karen opened the door to welcome him into her apartment. He grabbed her face and looked at her concerned. After the incident he just experienced in the street, he thought if someone had gone after him, they might have also gone after his girlfriend. And he couldn’t let her get hurt. Not because of him. 

Then he realized there was something wrong. He withdrew his sight from his girl, and it fell on you, and on Yelena who was attempting to keep you awake. Then your gaze is drawn to your boyfriend, who is standing on the threshold. And you could tell by the look on his face that he had connected the dots. And you knew there was no going back from this point forward.

“It was you,” he said, his voice was calm but you knew him well enough to know there was anger behind those words.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Frank shouted at you, “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I still can.”

“You ain’t dying,” Yelena retorted.

“And who exactly are you?” 

Yelena disregarded Frank's question and turned to Karen, “I need towels, alcohol, and a needle and thread.”

Karen nodded firmly and exited the living room.

“Are you going to pull that thing out?” Your boyfriend inquired, and while he was angry, he also sounded concerned. That offered you some optimism; maybe if you made it out alive, you still had a chance to work things out with him.

“You prefer me to leave it inside?” 

“You’re going to bleed out!” Billy cried out, raking his fingers through his disheveled. hair.

Karen returned with the items and placed them next to Yelena. “Are you alright?” She knew it was a stupid question to ask, but her brain wasn't functioning properly at the moment.

“Sure,” you said faintly, waving your hand, “I’ve had it worse.”

“No, you have not.”

You disregarded Yelena's rebuke, “Pull it out.”

“This is insane!”

Yelena turned to your boyfriend, “You have any other idea, pretty boy? ‘Cause we can’t go to the hospital.”

Billy looked at your friend, then at you. You wanted to tell him so many things, but mostly you wanted to apologize. You wanted to apologize to him for keeping this portion of your life hidden from him. Because you knew how important honesty was to Billy, and you have completely broken his trust in you. He sighed and knelt alongside you on the couch, holding your hand.

“It’s going to hurt,” he warned you.

“I can take it.” 

Billy was taken aback by how confident you sounded. Yelena grasped the dagger’s handle and for a few seconds that’s all she did, then she met your gaze. Silently telling her to go for it. And the last thing you remember is feeling an excruciating pain before passing out.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours - Part 10

Grudgingly Yours, Part 10

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter 10

You were irritated beyond belief, but you reminded yourself to stay calm. Six weeks. It took six weeks for Alistair to agree to meet you. His avoidance and refusal to see you was intentional, your punishment for daring to speak up when he was bitching out Billy and then ignoring him. In hindsight, you should have kept your mouth shut and minded your own business. But that was the past, and there was nothing you could do to change it. Now you just had to eat crow and make amends so you could move on with your fucking life.

After another twenty minutes of waiting in Alistair’s home office, he walked in. His slow gait, supported by the ebony walking stick, may have made him look weak and fragile – but it was a ruse. This man was brutal and ruthless, and you couldn’t afford to forget that.

“Such a surprise to find you here.” His tone was cold as ice as he took a seat across from you. Obviously he wasn’t just going to get to the point, he wanted to put you through the wringer for talking back to him.

“I apologize for ignoring your calls after the party.”

His disapproval was evident, his tone dripping with scorn. “Yes. You did that, didn’t yo?”

Maybe he expected you to beg and plead for his forgiveness but that wasn’t your style. Besides, he’d be ecstatic at the reason you were here. “We both know this arrangement hasn’t worked out like we hoped.”

“Indeed.”

“So it’s best that we cut our losses and move on, don’t you think? I’ll happily sign the divorce papers as soon as you can get your lawyers to draw them up.”

Alistair simply stared at you, no emotions on his face. “I suppose you expect the same payment of $5 Million?”

You cocked your eyebrow. “I deserve more for putting up with your asshole grandson, but I’ll settle for $3 Million instead.” Frankly, you were willing to walk away with nothing but Alistair didn’t need to know that.

“It hasn’t even been a year of marriage and you expect more than half the amount?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.”

A cold smile fell on his lips, and it made the hair stand on the back of your neck. “There will be no negotiation. You will stay married to him, as agreed upon, for a period of three years. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he fucking with you? You thought he’d jump at the offer. The most pushback you expected was about the divorce settlement, but it never occurred to you he’d force you to stay married. No, absolutely fucking not. “You can find someone else to punish your grandson.”

“I’ve already spent considerable time sourcing you. That was enough.”

“I’m not the kind of woman who follows orders, Alistair. I’m trouble. I fight back. And you don’t want that, you want someone who obeys. So there’s no need to prolong this bullshit arrangement.”

Alister raised his eyebrow, drawing your attention to the uncanny family resemblance that existed in the Russo family. “You will do as I say when I say it. You will be at my beck and call and ready to do my bidding.” A cold sneer settled over his lips, like he was enjoying this.

Disgusted, you stood up. “I’m not your fucking servant.”

“Sit down, cunt!”

The stark hatred in his voice stunned you frozen. His face was red with anger, his dark eyes flashing with pure vitriol. “You think I’ll let some dirty whore belittle me and get away with it?” He shook his head ‘no’. “You’re nothing. Less than nothing. A fucking cotton-picker. The only reason you’re here is to knock some sense into my goddamn grandson. So you’ll do your fucking part and you’ll behave. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure you and your dirty pack of monkeys pay.”

His racist tirade shouldn’t have been a surprise. You dealt with microaggressions your entire life but to have it be so explicitly thrown in your face, that too by someone whose life you saved in the operating room – that was a bitter pill too swallow.

A deceptive calm settled over you. “You will regret this, Alistair.”

His demeaning smile was like salt on your wounds. “We’ll see.”

You watched after him as he made his way out of the room.

***

Calvin was on his phone, sitting up in bed next to you. Sheets were gathered around his waist, his chest bare. It was almost a year since you saw him last and in that time he’d gotten more buff. That was definitely a pleasant surprise. Smiling, you snuggled up to him and he squeezed your arm in return.

It was so easy with him. It always was. The relationship, the sex, the friendship. Even the fickin’ breakup in college had been smooth. That’s because Calvin didn’t play games. He wasn’t romantic or thoughtful – or faithful - but you knew exactly where you stood with him and that’s what mattered the most. Besides, you weren’t looking to be in a committed relationship. The no strings thing worked for you and satisfied all of your expectations, and you were happy with it.

"Still can’t believe you’re married.”

Calvin’s words brought you out of your reverie. “It’s a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”

“Who does that shit these days?”

You scoffed. “Like you would’ve said no.”

“Maybe not but I’d be worried. What if I ended up with a psycho? Or some ugly hag?”

“Oh no, not that,” you deadpanned.

He gathered you in his arms. “That’s a guy’s worst nightmare. Stuck with an ugly wife.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s not like I called you ugly.”

“Yeah, I’m so lucky.”

He laughed, hugging you tightly. “No, it’s Billy Russo who’s lucky. He could’ve gotten stuck with pure ghetto trash. Instead he got a queen like you.”

You grimaced, hearing Billy's name but Calvin didn't seem to notice. Instead he angled forward to kiss you as your mind dwelled on his words. As flattering as they were, the Russos didn’t share the sentiment. To them you were nothing, less than that. And there was no way you'd stay connected to them.

Despite Alistair's threats, you were going to find a way out.

***

“What do you think?” Calvin asked.

The two of you were out for dinner at a new restaurant Calvin was excited to try. He was supposed to leave yesterday but had extended his trip, which you were originally happy about. Unfortunately Calvin’s finance bro side was out in full-force and he was trying to sell you on some stocks.

You studied the financial records in front of you, trying to focus. While you could easily get through pages and pages of anatomy and physiology textbooks, finance was never your thing. But even you understood that the return in your investments Calvin was promising seemed too good to be true. “I’m not sure. I need time to think.” Which meant Ritu, one of your closest friends and a genius at this stuff, would be vetting the records for you.

“What? You don’t trust me?” The same dazzling smile that hooked your attention from the moment you met graced his face. “Think I’m hustling you?” He winked.

You shut the folder, biting down on your bottom lip. “Not making any deals when I’m hungry.”

He laughed, dragging the menu closer to him. “What do you want to eat?” You were still deciding when he spoke next. “How about lobster? Been craving it.”

You shook your head, not at all surprised. “Sure. Been dying for an anaphylactic shock.”

“Shit. I forgot you’re allergic.”

“You always do.”

“But I mean, I can have it. Right? It’s not like you’re going to start wheezing if it’s on the table.”

You sighed, shaking your head. They had this conversation every few years, because Calvin couldn’t bother to remember the details. Which was another reason why he was a friend and nothing more. “You can have it. I just won’t kiss you for the next few hours.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned down to give you soft, staccato kisses on your lips. “Totally,” you murmured, kissing him back.

“Technically we don’t need to kiss to fuck,” he murmured.

You pushed him away, giggling. “Or maybe you can go fuck yourself.”

He laughed, nodding at the waiter to get his attention. After the two of you put in your orders, his phone rang. “I have to take this.” Calvin slid out of the cozy booth and headed outside, leaving you alone.

Out of boredom, you started flipping through the statements again. Like that wasn’t bad enough, you took a sip of his bourbon to see if you’d acquired a taste for it. Immediately you put it down. Nope, absolutely not. You hated the stuff. Swallowing the liquid, you were about to reach for a glass of water when a familiar face slid into your booth. Immediately you froze.

Billy.

Eyes bloodshot, face weary, fatigue marked his features like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His beard was a bit fuller, not as neatly trimmed, and hair a bit longer. The scruffed-up look should have been a deterrent to his good looks but it proved to be the opposite. Even in his green bomber jacket and casual get-up, he looked like a GQ model.

Your heart pounded in your chest, you wanted to bolt. But you didn’t. Because running would mean he affected you and he absolutely didn’t. Not anymore. You learned your lesson from your last encounter with him.

“Disappointed to see me alive?”

Your voice was calm and steady, just like your heart would soon be. “Couldn’t care less actually.”

His molten eyes narrowed onto your face. “I went through hell to come home but you weren’t there. The place was empty.”

You swirled the liquid around in the glass before taking a sip again. This time you were numb to the bitter taste.

“Anita said you moved out weeks ago.”

Your gaze lifted to meet his. “What do you want, Billy?”

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

His eyebrow quirked up in surprise. Maybe he was expecting tears or some kind of angry showdown, but you were prepared to give him nothing.

“You’re pissed at me,” he said after a few seconds of silence.

“No. Why would I be?”

He paused, peering at you closely. “How I left Curtis’s wedding, I want to explain-”

“There’s no need.” Head tilted to the side, you casually ran fingers through your hair. “It doesn’t matter and I don’t really care.”

“Bullshit.” His dark eyes bore into yours, trying to forge some kind of connection. “You care. That’s why you’re here.” His head nudged in the direction of the door. “With that fuckhead.”

Rage rushed through you like wildfire but you refused to give into the chaos. He didn’t deserve any kind of emotional outbursts from you. He deserved nothing. Leveling him with a fixed gaze, which took all of your resolve, you responded in a steady tone. “Don’t insult my friends.”

“Yeah but he’s not just a friend, is he? He’s more than that. You’re fucking him!” He gritted through clenched teeth.

You leaned back in your seat. “And how is that any of your business?”

“Say it. Admit that you’re fucking him.”

Pure menace laced his voice but underneath the danger you also sensed hurt, like he was in pain – and you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He was the one who humiliated you. He’s the one who walked away. And now he was here demanding answers like he had a right to you or something. Fuck that. You weren’t going to play this game with him.

You crossed your elbows, straightening your back.

Two months ago you opened yourself up to him, letting him in a way you rarely had with anyone else. Despite all your reservations about his behaviour, despite your insecurities. You used to think you could trust your instincts about people because they never guided you wrong. Your instincts screamed Billy was safe, that he could be trusted, that he wouldn’t hurt you - and then you were swiftly proven wrong when he absolutely shattered you.

You hated him. Despised him. Because of him, you could no longer trust yourself and you could never forgive him for that.

And he would never know anything about you again or how you felt. He’d never have that power over you again. “What I do with Calvin, if I fuck him, how I fuck him, when I fuck him – none of that concerns you, Billy.”

Suddenly he reached across the table, grasping your face, the desperation in his eyes startling you. “You’re my goddamn wife!”

Voice exposing none of your tumultuous emotions, you wrung his hand away from your face. “On paper. That’s all. And only because your grandfather promised me the good life.”

He didn’t release his grip on you, his fingers intertwined with yours. “In the beginning, yeah. But things changed.”

You gave him a perfectly perfunctory smile that belied all the anger and hurt swirling through you. “Nothing changed.”

Billy squeezed your fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Once a golddigger, always a golddigger. We don’t change our ways.”

“What’s going on here?” Calvin asked.

Shit.

His return caught you by surprise, you totally forgot about him. Immediately you retracted your hand from Billy while Calvin’s eyes wandered from you to him. His return was a blessing in disguise because he distracted Billy, giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.  You could still feel the heat of Billy’s touch on your skin, like he’d branded you permanently. You wanted to cut him out, out of your life, out of your mind, out of every crevice in your soul he’d managed to sneak into and embed himself.

“Is everything okay?” Calvin asked, looking at you.

“Everything’s fine.” You gave him your most flirtatious smile before casting a quick glance at Billy. “You’re interrupting our date. Please leave.”

Billy leaned back in his seat, still watching you intently before a sneer curved his lips. Finally he shifted his focus to Calvin, the snide smile on his face growing more prominent. A smug prick through and through, and you wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

Not one to back down from a fight, Calvin stared back at him. “She asked you to leave.”

Billy snickered, amused. You expected him to be a little intimidated by Calvin’s muscular frame but he didn’t seem the least bit threatened, irking you. His gaze finally returned to you, his hands sliding into the pockets of his bomber jacket. Only few minutes earlier he was playing the part of jilted lover, and now he was right back to being the entitled asshole that he really was.  

“I fucked up before, so this right here?” He drew a circle in the air with his fingers.  “I’ll give you a pass for this fuckface. But it ends here. Tonight.”

“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?” Calvin roared, taking a step toward Billy.

You grabbed Calvin’s arm. He was ready for a fight but Billy remained seated, grinning, like he was enjoying this. “Ignore him,” you urged Calvin.

“This one needs a tighter leash, sweetheart,” Billy taunted.

Seeing that Calvin was about to pounce, you pulled him into the booth to sit beside you. Snuggling closer to Calvin, you linked your hand with his. “Go away. You’re not wanted here.”

Billy’s attention shifted from you to Calvin. In an instant his smarminess was gone, replaced with a sinister expression that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. “End things with my wife. Tonight.” The quietness of his voice contradicted the full malice in his tone. “Because if I see you with her again?” He slid out of the booth in one fluid motion, rising to his full height. His stature was foreboding, his words hostile. “I’ll kill you.”

He swaggered away as quickly as he appeared, leaving you and Calvin watching after him.

“You should’ve let me take a swing at him,” Calvin griped.

You scooted away to put some distance between you and him. Your throat felt dry, your nerves on edge. Seeing Billy again, talking to him, it unleased all of the emotions you’d buried after he left you. You swigged back a glass of water.

“Thought you said he was cool with everything. Why was he being a punk then?”

You rubbed your temple, closing your eyes. “Because he’s bored and this is a game to him.”

“Do I have to worry about this asshole?”

You turned to look at him. “Of course not. Someone else will come along to distract him.”

“Are you sure?” Calvin asked.

“Yes,” you said with certainty. Spotting the server bringing food your way, you bit down on your lip. “Can we grab this to go? I just want to go back to the hotel room.”

“Thought you were hungry.”

You sighed. “I lost my appetite.”

***

The moment you and Calvin returned to his room, you jumped him. Kissing him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You needed to forget every trace of Billy and Calvin could do that for you. His mouth claimed yours, his body holding you down on the bed. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure take over.

You needed this, you needed him.

Because losing yourself was the only way to get Billy out of your mind.

***

Few days later you returned to the Airbnb you were staying at. Eventually Alistair would force you to return to the penthouse but until then you were doing short-term rentals. After coming back from the wedding, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place you shared with Billy. So you’d grabbed a bunch of your clothes and necessities and found somewhere else to stay. The one-bedroom condo was definitely not on the same level as the penthouse, but you liked it. It was small and cozy and had everything you needed.

You glanced down at your phone. Still no texts from Calvin. You were supposed to meet him for dinner at Carbone but he hadn’t showed up. That in itself wasn’t surprising. He had a tendency to forget plans or run late most of the time, but usually he texted. Oh well.

You flicked on the light switch in the kitchen but nothing happened. Great. You’d have to contact the host to get the bulb replaced. Walking over to the cabinet, you reached up to grab a glass and strolled over to the fridge to get some water.

You were almost done with the drink when you felt a strange sensation sweep through you. Like you weren’t alone in the apartment. Like you were being watched.

You paused. Knives were two cabinets over. Too far. But you had a glass in your hand.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

Billy. His low, raspy voice was coming from behind you.

You took a slow, deep breath and then whirled around to attack him.

To be continued...

A/N - As always, thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. Feedback keeps me going and I appreciate every comment and reblog you guys throw my way.

Next chapter - we'll finally get Billy's POV :)

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 3)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

Billy smirks, “You clocked me the minute I sat down, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure just as quickly as you did me,” you wink. 

“Damn, Frankie got lucky,” Billy continues to flirt. 

“Hardly,” you roll your eyes. “Frank got held up but he’ll be here soon. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. As long as the drinks keep coming and your friend there keeps entertaining the crowd, I’ll be just fine.”

“That’s Cecily. She’s looking forward to meeting you,” you smile, conspiratorially. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to move on, yet. My heart was just broken by the most beautiful woman in the bar,” Billy whispers intimately. 

“I have a feeling you’ll get over it quickly,” you laugh as you walk away to pour more drinks. 

“Hardly,” Billy murmurs into his drink as he watches you walk away.

You can feel his eyes follow you as you take care of customers, but on most occasions that you glance back at him, he quickly slid his eyes to Cecily. His curiosity about you was completely natural, you reminded yourself. He just wanted to know about Frank's omega, but that rationalization didn't stop your heart from beating faster every time you caught his gaze. It was almost as if his eyes were drawing you in, two near black pools that seemed to beg for you to fall into them. You shook yourself when you realized you were frozen, staring at him, and his cocky smirk let you know he was well aware. He lifted his glass to salute you as you scurried back to work. 

You were relieved an hour later when Frank finally made it to the bar. He immediately grabbed Billy by the shoulder and the two shared a boisterous greeting, clapping each other on the back as they hugged. It was almost sweet to see the smiles they both wore. You slid a beer in front of Frank's barstool while the two were engrossed in each other and went about working. When the two had had some time to catch up, you motioned for Cecily to join you during a lull. Frank glanced up as you approached and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile, "Bill, let me introduce you to this terror. Cecily Meyers, Billy Russo. Billy, Cecily." 

You were a little surprised that Frank barely acknowledged you and hadn’t bothered to introduce you. Normally, he was sure to say hello when he came in and, more often than not, gave you a kiss. He’d barely given you a nod since he appeared. You shook it off figuring he was just distracted by his friend. 

"Thanks for that endearing intro, Frank!" Cecily snarks as she holds a hand out to Billy, "It's nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Billy says while displaying that drop dead gorgeous smile. “You were putting on quite a show.”

“Gotta keep the tip jar full,” Cecily grins, leaning in. 

Almost imperceptibly, Billy leans away saying, “You do a good job of it.” He shifts his attention back to you, asking, “Do you have the same tricks up your sleeves?”

“Oh, that and more,” you wink at Frank who only gives you a glance.

“She taught me all her bar tricks but I’ve got a few of my own,” Cecily says flirtatiously. 

“I never could master dancing on the bar,” you quip as you pull another beer and quickly deliver it to the signaling customer. 

Cecily laughs and puts a hand on Billy’s arm, “I’m a pretty good dancer. I’ve got plenty of moves.”

Billy gives her a brief smile and turns to Frank, “Yeah, Frankie, we were never much good at dancing.”

“We got pretty good at running for cover,” Frank says, remembering back to their days as Marines. 

“You remember that bar we found outside of Kandahar?” Billy recalls.

“The one you nearly caused an international incident in? Yeah, I remember the bullets whizzing past as we ran.”

Billy laughs, “Good times.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, “We have very different ideas of ‘good times’ but it sounds exactly like something you two would enjoy. ‘Always getting in and out of scrapes’ is how Frank describes your friendship.”

“Sounds about right,” Billy gives you a sly smile. 

“I’d love to hear some of the stories, I bet they’re fascinating.” Cecily flips her hair with a smile, “Maybe you could tell me some over a drink after last call.”

“I’m putting these two out enough by crashing with them and I’m pretty beat. Probably best if I head home with them,” Billy declines smoothly. 

“Some other time, then,” Cecily smiles but you recognize the umbrage that sparks in her eyes. She went back to tending the bar, flirting, and showing off her skills with the occasional glance directed Billy’s way. To her annoyance, he rarely seemed to take his eyes off of you unless he was directing his attention to Frank. 

After last call, you closed out the last of the tabs, and cleaned up as the bar emptied. Cecily grabbed the tip jar and nodded her head for you to follow her to the back room. She dumped the contents of the jar out and you both started sorting the cash.

“I don’t like him,” Cecily snipes.

“I’m sorry,” you say for lack of anything better.

“There’s something off about him,” she continues. 

“What do you mean?”

“I… he… I just get a weird vibe,” she shrugs.

“Well, he’s only here for a couple of days. You won’t-”

“He kept staring at you. Like he’s, I don’t know,” she huffs.

“Like he’s curious about his friend’s omega?” You reason.

“No. Like he’s calculating, making some kind of plans. Are you sure you want him staying with you?”

You laugh lightly, “I’m not worried. Frank will be there.” Truthfully, you were chalking most of Cecily’s feelings up to anger at being rejected. 

“Maybe that’s exactly what they want,” she says. 

“What?” You look at her askance. 

“I’ve got a really bad feeling. What if they’re planning something?”

“Like what, Cec? You think they’re gonna rob me?” You try to laugh off her suspicions but it seems to put her even more on edge. 

“I don’t know! There is something off. I wish you would take me seriously right now,” she says.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m not getting the same vibe. I trust Frank. Don’t you?” You raise your eyebrows at her. 

“I…I don’t know. I never thought he was going to stick around this long, honestly. Did you?” She asks. 

“Um, I, not really but then he did. I’m happy with him. He’s a good guy.”

“I just feel like he’s going to hurt you in the end,” she shrugs. 

“That’s how most relationships end, with a lot of hurt. I’ll be fine. I’m glad to have him while I do,” you reassure her.

“‘While you do?’ So, you don’t think he’s going to stick around either?” She asks. 

“I think he will but you never really know, right?” 

“And his friend? Billy just seems off,” she insists. 

“Off? Cec, are you, maybe, put off because he wasn’t exactly receptive to you?” You ask. 

“I don’t give a fuck that he didn’t flirt with me! There’s something wrong with him! And if his best friend is Frank, there must be something wrong with him, too!” She says meanly. 

“Don’t say things like that, there’s nothing wrong with Frank! He’s a good man!”

“You’re so blind! Can’t you see he’s using you?” She says heatedly. 

“What the hell are you on about? He’s not using me! He’s going to mate me!”

“What?” She stares, open mouthed.

“He’s going to mate me on my next heat. He’s not using me!”

“Frank’s an Alpha. His nature is to breed. He’ll never mate you! He’s using you and he probably brought his friend in to help hide your body or some shit!” Cecily seethes. 

“Cecily! Are you serious right now?” You stare agape at your friend. 

“Why else would he be with you? You can’t give him what he wants! He’s just using you. Why is he with you? Why did he choose you?” Cecily practically shouts. 

You stare in shocked silence for a moment before saying gently, “Cecily, stop. It’s not… It’s not like that. Frank just… he’s been through a lot. He needed something uncomplicated.”

“He’s using you and you don’t even care? How pathetic can you be?” Cecily spits, the venom in her voice turning your blood cold. 

“You’re… you’re jealous. You’re jealous that he turned you down and then went home with me. And now, you can’t stand the thought that Billy wasn’t interested in you and paid more attention to me? Isn’t that just like you?” You unleash your anger.

“I’m not jealous of you!” Cecily shouts. 

“You are! You’re angry that someone would choose the wrecked Omega over the pedestaled princess. And you always want what you can’t have. That’s why you’ve never accepted any man that ever pursued you. If they want you, you’ll play with them and use them but you never want them. Now, one of the few men that has ever passed you over, chose me and you can’t stand it! God forbid now Billy shows some interest in me, AS HIS FRIEND’S OMEGA, and you turn psycho! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but you stand your ground. After all, everything you said was true. 

“Fuck you! Your father should have put you down! No one wants you! No one will ever really love you! You don’t even deserve to be called an Omega! You’re nothing!” Cecily throws the money she held in your face before turning to storm out.

“I’m the one going home with two Alphas and you’ll be alone, as usual,” you say quietly to her back. You were surprised at your own cruelty but her words had cut deep. She was your oldest friend and you never thought she would use your worst insecurities against you. She paused for just a split second but then exited, slamming the door behind her. 

You felt the tears well in your eyes. Your heart was breaking at the vicious way you had torn into each other. Slowly, you pick up the money from the floor and throw it into your safe. You took a moment, let a few tears fall and then wipe them away. You fan your eyes to help dry them and compose yourself. 

“Everything okay back here?” Frank sticks his head through the door. 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right there. Just finishing up,” you say, not turning towards him. 

“Where’s Cecily?” Frank asks after glancing around. 

“She had to go,” you say simply. 

“Hmph,” Frank grunts, “Billy pissed her off?”

You give a breathless little laugh, “How’d you guess?” 

“She’s not used to being the one turned down.”

“Ain’t that the truth. I’ll be right out,” you give a fleeting smile over your shoulder but have to hold yourself together as more tears threaten. 

“Okay,” Frank backs out of the door and you hear him ask Billy if he wanted anything else before leaving. 

You head to the bathroom to put some cold water on your neck and make some repairs to your face. Some eye drops help with the redness of your eyes. You stare at yourself in the mirror as emotions war through you. The barb Cecily had thrown your way about your father and not being a real Omega had come straight from her knowledge of your trauma. You hadn’t known she could be so cruel. Feeling tears begin to well again, you shake your head and grip the sink. Looking up again, you growl at yourself, “Turn it off.”

Immediately, your mask drops into place. Your face shows a calm countenance and your shoulders straighten. Frank’s best friend was here and you would hold yourself together to give him a great visit. You would fall apart after he left. 

–

“This is really nice. I kinda expected you to live above the bar,” Billy says as his eyes study the inside of your cabin. 

“No, I rent that apartment out,” you smile.

“You do?” Frank gives you a surprised look. 

“Yeah, I wanted a little distance between myself and the bar,” you explain. “I spend so much time there I want my own space away from it. When this place came available I jumped on it.”

“Smart,” Billy says.

“Thanks. Why don’t you drop your bag in here?” You open the door to the room Billy will be sleeping in. 

“Okay,” he smiles as he brushes past you. You have to stop yourself from closing your eyes as you catch his scent. Without the bar overpowering it, he smelled even more enticing. 

“Who rents it?” Frank’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

“What?” You ask, momentarily confused. 

“Who rents the apartment?” Frank says again. 

“Oh, Jordan. He’s been there for six months or so now,” you look at Frank seeing a strange expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t realize,” Frank shrugs. 

Turning back to the room, you walk through to open a door, “Um, the bathroom is through here. It’s a jack-and-jill bathroom. The other door is to our bedroom. Please make yourself at home. Would you like a drink or anything?” 

“No, gorgeous, I’m good,” Billy says. The endearment sends a little thrill through you. 

“Well, uh, if there are no objections, I’m going to shower and hit the hay. I’m pretty beat,” you look to Frank. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Frank shrugs as he grabs a beer from the fridge. “Want one?” He asks Billy. 

“Sure,” he answers before turning to you with a smile, “Good night.”

“Good night, Billy. I hope you sleep well,” you return his smile. A final glance at Frank who is concentrating on opening the beers has your smile disappearing. Escaping to the bedroom you undress while trying to sort, your multitude of feelings, Cecily’s cruelty, Frank’s standoffishness, and this inexplicable attraction to Billy. Frank had told you that Billy went through women fairly quickly. He had never been close to settling down. You can fully understand how he managed it. There was something magnetic about him. His eyes and smile drew you in. And, my god, his scent was enough to make you want to fall into his bed alone. 

You shake yourself from those thoughts and step into the spray of the shower. It was disloyal to Frank and he was good to you. His reticence tonight had hurt but you chalked it up to his friend being here and wanting his approval… And then the thought hit you, what if Frank’s remoteness is due to shame? What if he didn’t want his friend to know that you weren’t… a real Omega? 

You felt the tears well again and, in the safety of the shower, you let them fall. Sobs wracked your body and you bit down on your fist to stifle any sound. The question that haunted you ran through your mind over and over again, would you ever be enough for someone?

You knew Frank cared about you but, even if he did stay and mate you, you would always feel that you had stolen something from him. He would have stolen something from you, too. You wanted to be loved. Really loved, not a settlement or convenience. That thought had your tears turning to anger. You curl your hands into fists and force yourself to calm down. Tamping down all your feelings, you turn off the water and finish getting ready for bed.Your room is empty and you can hear the low murmurs of their voices in the living room. Cocooned in the covers, you close your eyes and try to will yourself to sleep. It feels like hours before it finally claims you.

–

Waking the next morning, you’re surprised to see the empty spot next to you. It was obvious Frank had been there but  the spot was cool to the touch. He’s been gone for a while. You weren’t sure how to feel. Normally, Frank would wake you for sex if you hadn’t the night before. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with his friend in the house. You attempt to shrug it off. You had to let it go for now, you were too full of emotions and you needed to be a good hostess and still had to work the bar tonight. 

After getting dressed, you head to the kitchen to find Billy leaning against the kitchen counter drinking from your favorite coffee mug. His long legs crossed in front of him makes him look utterly relaxed as he stares out the window at the creek. He’s just taking another sip when you move into his peripheral. 

“Mmm, morning,” Billy straightens. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”

A grin spreads across your face as you answer, “Good morning. Shouldn’t I be asking you that since you’re the guest?”

He smiles and your heart beats a little faster. Despite your question, he reaches for a mug and pours, “I can't pass up a chance to service a beautiful woman.”

You snicker, “Double entendre fully intended, I'm sure.” You take the coffee cup and ask, “Where’s Frank gotten off to?”

“He went to pick up some doughnuts. Said I had to try them. I begged off going with him. I was in the car all day yesterday,” he shrugs.

“Ah, Melinda's Cafe. He's obsessed,” you laugh. 

Billy's eyes wander over your face, “He said he'd be back in 30 minutes. That was about ten minutes ago. Since we have time, what happened last night?”

You stare, confused, “What do you mean?”

“What happened with Cecily?”

“Nothing. I think she felt a little rejected and went home,” you say, relieved.

“Frankie went to the bathroom at one point. I walked over to check on you two in the back room and I heard Cecily say something along the lines of ‘Fuck you. Nobody loves you. You're not a real Omega.’ Why did she say that?” Billy tilts his head as he stares into you.

“Uh, she… she was angry. She didn't mean it,” you hedge, turning away. 

Billy grabs your arm and pulls you back around to face him, “Why did she say that?”

“She was mad that you paid more attention to me than her. She'll get over it,” you say quickly. 

“No,” Billy brackets his arms around you, grasping the counter. “Why did she say you're not a real Omega? What did she mean?”

You froze, staring wide-eyed as thoughts bombarded your mind. You couldn't tell him. What if it shamed Frank? What if Frank was angry that you told his friend? But then, the seed of anger that had formed last night began to bloom. Why did you have to be ashamed? Why were you less than because of something you had no control over? What did you have to lose by telling the truth? Despite all of your thoughts, you still squeaked out, “Noth-”

“Don't say nothing! Tell me.” The Alpha came out in his voice as he said it and the pull to give into his demand was undeniable.

“I can’t… I can't have kids. That's why I'm not a real Omega. I still go into heat but it's no use, I can't breed. No Alpha wants a wrecked Omega but Frank has offered to mate me. It sent her over the edge and she was pissed that Frank didn't choose her. She flirted with him when he first came to town but he brushed her off. I'm not a real Omega… please don't tell Frank I told you. I think he's ashamed of it and he's been so standoffish since you got here. I-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won't say anything,” Billy assured softly. “You're sure you can't?”

“Yeah, it's medically impossible,” you can't quite meet his eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” he softly touches your cheek.

“It's fine,” you look up at him and lose yourself in his eyes. His scent envelopes you and you can feel your body respond.

“I don't know how he's resisted mating you until now,” Billy's hand trailed to your neck and his fingers played over your scent gland. You give a shuddering gasp at the caress. Your body goes into overdrive and you feel your panties flood. Billy leans in even closer, closing his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don't know how you can say you're not a real Omega. Everything about you screams it. Especially your scent. I could stand here all day and not get enough of it.” 

“You shouldn't say things like that to me,” you put a hand on his chest but fail to push him away. 

He looks at you intensely, his face close to yours, “Tell me you don't feel this. Tell me it's just me feeling this pull and I'll stop. I won't say anything else.”

“We can't do this,” you whisper.

“Tell me,” he says, lips only a few scant inches from yours. 

“Billy-”

The rumble of an engine and the slam of a truck door has the two of you separating quickly. When Frank walks in carrying a box, he smiles at the two of you, “Coffee ready?”

“Yeah, I'll make you a cup,” you say quickly. As you pour, you glance at Billy. He was watching you as he drank from his mug. You turn away to take a deep breath. This was going to be a long two days.

Part 4

Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​ for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 14

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst by the buckets.

'We should talk.' 

'I'd rather not.' 

It's been two days.

Two days since you've been in his presence, avoiding every mention and sight of him, making yourself as scarce as possible.

Two days since you kissed him.

Your body heats up at the memory. The way he grabbed you, held you close, returned your feverish kisses with some of his own.

You look down at your phone, swallowing when you see the read receipts light up on the message you just sent.

In true Billy fashion, he doesn't respond.

What a fucking pain in the ass, you think angrily. 

You shake your head, dropping your phone onto your desk and throwing yourself into your work.

This time, you're not worried about possible fallouts, he'd definitely kissed you back, right?

Fuck, what a kiss. Your toes curled at the memory, a spot deep inside you aching, emphasizing the emptiness inside of you.

It was too much, the knowledge of what his mouth tasted like, the feel of his passionate hands on your body.

How could you ever hope to forget that it had happened? Did you even want to?

The answer was no.

You didn't want to forget it, and you didn't think it was a mistake either.

But it definitely wasn't a good thing.

Especially now, when your relationship had grown more strained in the last two days.

Friendship, what a dumb word.

If you weren't still upset with him, you'd probably go back up to his office and grip him by his stupid tie once more. 

You think about kissing him again, kicking one leg over his hip, grinding your body against his. Maybe you'd slip between his legs and pull his thick cock out of his pants-

You gasp, blinking back into reality, aware that you've been staring at the same sentence for minutes now.

You swallow, clicking the document away with a sigh.

You toss your head back in your chair, take a small stretch, try to remind yourself why you were mad at Billy.

Right, he was too indecisive. One moment he holds you close and tells you the most amazing things, the next he's avoiding you.

If you followed through on any of your fantasies with him, there was a high chance that he'd ghost you afterwards.

He probably just didn't like you as much as you'd hoped.

It was a painful thought. 

.

He was watching you.

Like the world's biggest creep.

Billy didn't completely understand why you were angry with him, but it was killing him inside. He needed to know, he needed to fix it.

It had been two days and he hadn't seen you in person since. You'd become very good at avoiding him. 

The absolute torment of seeing you everyday to not at all and all he had was the memory of a kiss that still made his lips tingle and his cock hard.

Now, the only way he could see you was on the little camera feed tucked into a corner wall of the office workspace area.

The camera quality was grainy, really just put in and not monitored unless there was an issue.

Billy had opened the feed five times in the last two days.

It was getting ridiculous, he didn't want another day to go by without trying to talk to you. You'd given him a rather clear message to leave you alone, but he couldn't, not after knowing how hurt you were, and definitely not after he found out how sweet your mouth tasted.

Like fucking strawberries.

He needed to make amends. 

.

You regret not going out tonight when Amy had offered. You could have been at a nice bar right now, sipping on a fancy margarita, laughing with your friends.

But you’d turned them down.

Why the fuck had you turned them down?

Friday night, and you’d just decided to take a bath and lie in bed.

It wasn't so bad, you reasoned, you only wished you were with them because you were in bed. If you'd been at the bar, you'd be sitting there, wishing you were here instead.

You smile, your therapist might praise you for becoming that level of self aware.

When there's a knock at your door, you raise your head in surprise.

Logically, it could only be one person. The one with the appropriate security clearance to make it up to your door without you being informed beforehand.

You take a deep breath, wondering what he would possibly want to say to you at a time like this.

You’re greeted with flowers. 

You see them before you see his face, pink and white tulips, wrapped in a rustic brown paper and some thread that’s looped tightly around your chest just comes loose at the sight of him.

What did you address him as now? William? Mister Russo? Billy? What did you call your boss that you’d kissed in a heated rush in his office during working hours?

“Hey.” Is all you end up saying.

He says your name in greeting, looking down at the bouquet in his arms for a second. 

“May I come in?”

May he? Was this a good idea?

You nod, pulling your door wider and sidestepping to let him in.

“Is there… something I can help you with?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He comments, avoiding your eyes.

Straight to the point.

“Yes.” You agree.

He finally turns to look at you, something unnameable in his eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

You give him a smile of apology, eyes drifting to the tulips still in his arms.

“Those for me?”

He nods, extending them out to you.

Your hands brush as you take them, turning away from him to find a place for them.

“They’re beautiful,” You state, “How did you know they were my favourite?”

"I didn’t.” He says, the awkwardness between you is as palpable as if it were a third person standing in the room.

He's silent as you take your time, searching for the appropriate vase to put them in. You press your nose to them and hum happily as the soft petals touch your cheek.

"Would you like something to drink?" You offer, turning to him.

He swallows.

"No. Why are you avoiding me?" He presses, going straight to the point.

You grin quietly into the flowers.

"I feel like you avoided me first." You hedge the question, looking eagerly at him for a response.

He looks a little irked, looking away from you and taking a deep breath, pretending to study your apartment.

"That's what this is about?"

"In part, you just kind of piss me off in general."

He raises his eyebrows in astonishment, still not meeting your eyes.

"Well this is confusing, considering that you kissed me." He challenges.

You wanted to rage at him, curse his stunning looks and captivating personality for pulling you into him, and this mindset of affection toward him.

Instead you suck in a breath.

"I feel like everytime we get close- as friends- you just… you pull as far away from me as humanly possible."

You let out a long sigh, leaving the bouquet of tulips in their spot on your kitchen counter, moving to plop onto your couch in a dramatic flourish.

You grab one of your throw pillows, setting it in your lap and squeezing tightly.

“Of course I’m avoiding you,” You continue, “I’m just expecting you to pull away again.”

You look at him for a moment, as he takes in your words. You can almost watch him process them, eyelids fluttering as he maybe debates internally.

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, coming to sit beside you on your couch. His eyes are earnest and warm, and it takes you by surprise.

You honestly doubted he’s said those words to many people.

“I push you away, I do, when I first offered you the job, you said that you weren’t interested if I was only doing it to get involved with you.”

He swallows, he looks so nervous that your heart almost breaks for him.

“I just didn’t want you to think that was true.” He continues, “You’re a good employee, but the more I get to know you, the more I want to, and I find that very dangerous.”

“Billy.” You say in a measured tone, waiting for him to stop avoiding your gaze and look at you directly.

“I believe you. You’ve made it very clear that you think I’m good for the job and I respect that.”

You can feel something shift between you, the animosity turning into understanding.

“I want to know you better too.” You finish, voice soft, earnest.

He blinks quickly, looking away. You can’t help your body’s response to him, the memory of his mouth on yours sparking up ill-timed tingles.

“I don’t want anyone devaluing your work because we’re close.” He responds.

Chest constricting, you smile sadly.

“I- that means a lot to me. But, people will find any excuse to do what they want. I just want to be true to myself and let the pieces fall where they have to.”

He looks at you, the corners of his mouth pulling subtly upwards.

“So, you forgive me then?”

You reach for his hand, covering it with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze.

“Of course I do.”

He turns his hand upward, interlocking your fingers, eyes drifting down to look at your joined hands.

Tingles spread from where he touches, moving from your arm all the way up to your chest. You gulp, looking at him, studying his face, remembering the kiss.

That damned kiss.

You watch him take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. It’s a long and heated moment and he doesn’t look away, doesn’t pull back.

You don’t know who moves, or if you both do, like magnets being pulled into each other, a force of attraction that cannot be seen with the bare eye, cannot be felt by anyone else other than you.

He’s so close that your noses almost brush. You can feel his warm breath dancing across your skin in little puffs.

"We, we um," You try to focus on anything other than his lips, looking into his half opened dark eyes as you try to speak, "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No?" He asks softly, a little tilt of his head and you watch his eyes drop to your lips, "Why's that?"

"Because..." You trail off.

Because I can't keep myself in control around you, you want to say.

Instead, you close the distance between your bodies, leaning in to kiss him.

A low sigh leaves the back of your throat as your lips meet. You feel your stomach flip happily at the reunion of your mouths.

He groans, the vibrations tingle against your lips, his large hand rising to cup your jaw, warm thumb stroking over your cheek.

You move closer, till you're almost in his lap, your fingers twitch nervously as your hands rest on his chest, sliding their way up into his hair.

You try to fight the urgency, the impatience scratching at the back of your head to just take and take and take.

Your lips part, gently tracing the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip for only a second before pulling back. 

He makes an abrupt sound, drawing back suddenly, breaking the kiss. His movements are so surprising that you lean away from him and allow him the space to stand.

Your heart squeezes as you look at his back.

You're almost afraid to ask.

"Is everything okay?"

He doesn't speak for a long moment, raising a hand to rake through his hair.

"Yes, just wanted to check- are you sure about this?"

You blink.

"Yes, I am... are you? It's okay if you don't like me that much, we can stop."

He spins around as if you've said something positively absurd.

"Like you? You think I don't like you?"

You look down sadly, smoothing a hand over your knees.

"Well, yeah, you, you dismiss me sometimes as if you're not interested. It can come across as dislike, or even a little mean."

"Mean?" He says, taking long strides to stand before you, your head tilting down to follow his form as he kneels before you.

He looks at you for too long, and you have to look away or melt into a puddle under the pull of his dark eyes.

Carefully, he raises his hands to cover yours, smoothing over your skin with the tips of his fingers.

"When I'm around you, I'm usually using every ounce of strength I have to stop myself, to hold back so that I don't scare you off."

He swallows, tilting his head, his eyes locked on your joined hands.

"I want so many things, and you most of all. I've just been shit at showing it."

"You really have." You agree.

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

You raise a hand, cupping his cheek softly, thumb exploring the pout of his lips, the scratch of his beard.

His eyebrows draw together, he leans in, rubbing his bearded cheek into your hand.

"I'm worried," He whispers, "That I won't be able to stop."

"I trust you." You say to him softly, reaching up with your other hand to curl your fingers into the collar of his shirt.

"And I don't want you to stop." 

You pull him in then, his body pressed to yours as you seal your lips together in a heated rush. Your body trembles with the sensation of having him all around you, so close like he's the layer of air surrounding you.

His hands cup your cheeks, blunted fingers gripping tight, daring you to be apart from him for more than the space of a breath.

Your insides unfurl with something akin to delight, your toes curl. You lean into him more, accepting anything he's willing to give, and answering with desire of your own. 

You fight to keep the kiss slow, enjoy the way his mouth moves sinfully on yours. 

But it's too powerful, this need you have for him, you want to scratch and claw and submit and surrender and take and it just turns like a tornado in your head until you're biting gently on his bottom lip, tugging on it with careful precision, body pulsing as you hear the low sound that leaves him.

He draws away for a moment looking at you with even eyes.

"You torment me." He whispers, pressing his lips to yours once more, any pretence of slow and careful being thrown out of the window.

You torment me too, you want to say.

He rises, pushing you back until your body lies flat on your couch, and he hovers above you. You keep his mouth firm to yours, fingers tangled in his soft hair, exploring his back and shoulders, and when you part your lips again, jutting your tongue out playfully, you're delighted when you meet his tongue in return.

Your legs on either side of his hips gripping him tight, daring him to pull away from you as he kisses you senseless, your tongues dancing together in wet bliss.

"I could kiss you all night." Billy says between kisses.

You nod, humming in agreement, pulling his mouth back to yours.

Your skin tingles, his careful fingers tracing your cheeks and moving down your neck. 

You arch your body against his eagerly, so willing to give every part of yourself to him.

He slides his hand into the space between your arched back and the couch, keeping your body curved into his, your breasts rubbing against his chest, you wiggle your hips in an attempt to ease the near painful ache between your thighs.

You feel his cock then, stiff against his pants, and he groans into your mouth when your hips chase the firm sensation.

He whispers your name against your lips, a warm, broken sound of a man losing control of himself.

"Billy," You gasp, foreheads pressed together, resisting the heat of desire pulsing between your bodies, "I need you." 

You feel his entire body shudder.

He nods, nose brushing yours as his lips move away from yours, kissing your jaw instead, and then the curve of your neck.

You cry out, his teeth worrying your skin, scraping against your sanity, soothing with gentle swipes of his tongue.

You feel yourself tremble, and tremble further when he moves down your body, frustrated hands pushing your dress up your thighs so that the bunched fabric settles on your hips.

He doesn't move for a moment, and you raise your head in worry to see him staring at the space between your parted thighs intensely.

"You don't have to." You whisper, misreading the expression on his face.

His dark eyes meet yours, he tilts his head for a moment, before his eyes drop to your clothed cunt once more. 

"It's not that." He says, his hands starting at your ankles and sliding their way up your legs, "I've just thought about this a lot."

You bite down on your bottom lip very hard, trying to remain focused, and not beg him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

His hands stop midway between your knees and your ass, and he looks up at you.

"You want this?" He asks.

You almost groan in frustration.

"Yes, yes I really do."

"Tell me." 

You gulp.

"Tell you?" You ask, your head too disoriented to focus on what he's asking you to do.

"Tell me you want me to lick your cunt."

A little needy sound leaves you at his words. You clench around nothing, gathering your thoughts for a second before you speak.

"Billy," You finally whisper, "Please, lick my... cunt." 

A devilish smile pulls at his lips.

"Of course." He hums, his hands resuming their upward trail.

He grips either side of your underwear and you tilt your hips up, watching him anxiously, trying to read every expression on his face.

You know you're wet, that you've most likely soaked the gusset of your panties with your arousal. 

You study him, as he tugs your undergarment off your legs and lays his eyes on your bare center for the first time.

His lips part, eyes dark as he looks at you. You watch his throat bob as he swallows.

Your breath catches as you feel the tips of his fingers graze your wet slit. Your mouth drops open at the gentle sensation.

His thumb finds your clit easily, grazing the swollen bud and you let out a harsh sob, back dropping onto the couch, unable to hold your body up.

"So. Fucking. Pretty." Billy says, so clearly that it makes you ache even more for him.

You groan when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, leaving careless tingles in the wake of his mouth, he kisses his way over your skin, and there's a short moment of pause where you feel a puff of his breath against your aching core before his mouth is on you.

A sweet kiss between your legs, a gentle promise to ease the ache inside you, and then he extends his tongue to slide against your clit.

It's like lightning, the speed at which the pleasure fills you, passing through you, amplifying, with the careful stroke of his tongue.

He groans between your thighs, his first taste of you leading to palms gripping at your thighs, fingers pressing into soft skin to keep you close.

His next lick is firmer, over and over again his tongue swipes over your clit, he makes another low moan, and the next glide of his tongue starts at your entrance and trails up to your clit.

You mewl, hands moving to cover your mouth, then down to cup his hands in yours, any attempt to process the delicious burn of pleasure blooming under your skin.

You sigh his name, you swear he answers with an easy swipe of his tongue.

It’s too much, embarrassingly so because he’s only just begun and here you are- already on edge for him.

Your resistance is futile.

His tongue claims ownership of your most delicate parts.

You never stood a chance.

Panting, your nails clawing at his hands, hearing his low voice hum in bliss between your thighs.

You make another soft groan of his name, it’s all you know, all you can remember in the hazy confines of your mind.

How is his tongue so skilled? How can he kindle you so easily? You are firewood and he’s a spark and now you’re burning just for him.

His beard tickles your thighs, you realised he’s paused his torment to kiss at your skin.

You’re helpless to it.

You can hear each desperate breath you take, it echoes in your ears, and then you let out another whine as he kisses your dripping cunt once again.

Filthy wet sounds as he takes care of you, tantalising groans as his tongue explores between your thighs, mapping places he’s only ever been in your mind.

The inferno rages, and when his lips massage your clit, sealing around it easily, his tongue playing with your swollen bud, you feel feverish with the euphoria.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to tell him, an attempt to get him to understand.

He already does.

Groaning, one hand unfurling from around your thigh to reach his way up your body.

He tugs at your dress, pulling the strap off your shoulder and tugging it as far down as it will go. His tongue doesn’t slow as he pulls at your clothes, until one of your breasts is exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck.” You cry as he cups your hot skin, thumb finding your peaked nipple easily and dancing his thumb over it.

You feel the pleasure arc it’s way down your spine, joins with his tongue, threatens you with pleasure you’ve never experienced before.

You have one brief moment of sanity, where you’re acutely aware that your body is on a precipice, ready to fall at the next touch of Billy’s tongue.

All you can think in that one small moment is, Oh my fucking god.

And then you fall.

Frantic gasps as hot waves of pure pleasure crash over you. You feel the walls of your cunt spasm, clenching rhythmically around nothing. Every movement of your body is involuntary, each tremble and shake is something beyond your control.

Billy keeps the pleasure focused on you, helping you through your orgasm and into barely bearable territory.

He stops his torment when you whimper, pulling his messy mouth from your equally messy cunt, giving your breast another affectionate glide of his hand before pulling back.

You raise your head, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, watching him lick your arousal off of his lips.

You look at each other for a long moment. There’s that worry in the back of your mind that a clear line has been crossed so severely that it cannot be taken back.

If he has any inkling of your current train of thought, he doesn’t show it, leaning in instead, his fingers gripping your chin softly to keep you close to him.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of the night with my head buried between your thighs.”

Your breath hitches, you clench around nothing.

He smiles, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, observing your rumpled state, your dress pushed up to your hips, one strap falling off your shoulder, exposing your breast. You look like a proper mess where he still looks mostly put together.

You wanted to change that.

You sit up, sliding your body off your couch and standing on shaky legs. His eyes follow your every movement, and when you bunch your dress up, and tug it over your head, you try your hardest not to be shy about it.

He’s seen you touch yourself before, your mind supplies helpfully, it’s nothing to be naked in front of him.

It definitely helps, the reminder that he’s fucked his fist to the sight of you. You stand naked in front of him now, watching his every expression.

His eyes roam your bare skin, your body tingles at the feeling, his eyes as warm as a gentle touch on your skin. There’s just something about the moment, an understanding, a level of appreciation that’s so potent you can almost feel it.

He stands, takes a step in your direction.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Billy says, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yeah?” You ask, raising a hand to cup the smooth underside of your breast.

When he takes a step toward you, you take one back. You can tell he’s intrigued by the idea of it, the slow chase.

“Of course you are. You make it hard for me to think when you walk into a room.”

He takes another step, and you mirror his movement.

“That sounds awful. How do you put up with me?” You tease, taking more steps back, slowly guiding him into your bedroom.

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“I think about pressing you to the first flat surface and making you mine.”

A shiver of delight goes down your spine.

“Is that why you’re always so mean? Because you’re thinking about fucking me?”

“Obviously.” He answers, before raising his arms above his head and pulling his shirt off in one magnificent display of muscle.

You let out a little squeak at seeing him up close, you almost run toward him, instead of backing away from him. 

Even with his shirt off, he looks so magnificently dangerous that you can feel how bad your arousal is for him. His chest is broad and lined with a delicious amount of muscle, his biceps are near perfection, and your body tingles for a taste. A trail of hair from the spot below his navel into his pants makes you flushed with heat. You imagine briefly what is cock is like, remembering absentmindedly the time he assured you that he was bigger than the large dildo sitting in your nightstand.

What makes him more delectable is the scars that cover parts of his body. There are some on his left shoulder, what looks like a bullet hole in his lower abdomen. You gulp, acknowledging the fact that his flaws only make him more perfect, more mouthwatering.

You almost forget that you’re naked, only gasping in surprise when your back comes into contact with the chilled surface of your bedroom door.

He lets out a slow breath, palms pressed to either side of your body, not close enough to touch, but just enough to make you feel trapped, his warm breath on your skin.

“You want this?” He checks in, tilting his head to the side to observe you.

You nod, looking up at him, he nods along with you in a slight mocking manner.

“I want to hear you say it.” He murmurs, his fingertips tracing your shoulder gently, goosebumps on your skin as he works his way down your arm, taking your hand in his.

Your mouth parts in surprise when he presses your hand to the outline of his cock. You can feel the raw size of him, hot and stiff against the palm of your hand. You realise, in the back of your mind, that he really was large- bigger that you’d initially thought.

“Tell me you want me.” He pleads.

You gulp, hands exploring the stiff erection in his pants, your fingers squeezing around the sides to get an approximation of his girth. Your clit aches with just the idea of his size.

“I more than want you, Billy, I need you. Inside me, so deep that I never forget the feeling.”

He nods frantically, unable to hold himself back, he leans in to kiss you.

You throw your arms around his neck and enjoy the slide of your fingers against his hot skin.

He breaks the kiss for a second, lowering himself to grip your thighs. You wrap one careful leg around his hip, and upon his insistence you transfer your weight fully onto him, his hands supporting your naked backside.

You cling to him as he lifts you, desperate, body aching for more and more of his touch.

You’re not sure how he does it, and you have no time to marvel at his strength before he grips your jaw, bringing your mouth back to his.

You sigh, cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching at his beard, feeling the hairs tickle your palms. You melt into his body, feeling him groan as his mouth moves over yours.

He walks you into your room, and you have no care for your surroundings, your hands too busy exploring his back and shoulders and anywhere else you can get your hands on.

He bends, placing you gently onto your bed, his hands rising to cup your cheeks, and then making their way over every inch of your shoulders.

“God, you’re so soft.” He rumbles against your mouth. You gasp when his palms cup both your breasts in his large hands.

“I could just touch you all damn day.”

He’s so talkative now, and you find yourself loving each word that leaves his lips.

“Touch me all day, lick me all night- when am I getting fucked?” You tease, hearing him laugh into your mouth.

“When you ask for it.” He says decisively, pressing you onto your back.

It’s like he can’t leave your mouth, pulling back for a moment, only to draw back to your lips in a heated  rush. It makes you laugh, your body readily receptive to him.

He kisses your neck and jaw, electric tingles all over your skin, desperate shivers as he cups your breasts, pushing them together and kissing over them. 

You gasp, writhing below him, his mouth on your skin feels amazing, he works his way down and you gasp, your thighs spreading easily when he moves to settle himself between them.

He doesn’t say another word, his tongue reuniting with your clit, swirling careful circles around your heated bundle of nerves. You gasp, arching your back, fingers drifting into your hair.

“Billy!” You gasp, and the vigour of his tongue increases until he’s just flat out making out with your cunt.

Your head swims, pleasure in every essence of your cell and you feel a lone finger drift in careful circles at your entrance.

“Fuck!” You cry, feeling his finger hovering right at your entrance for a long moment. He’s mean, his fingers tormenting you as his tongue licks over your clit at a steady pace.

“Please,” You sob, tilting your hips up, trying to chase the pleasure he’s not yet ready to give.

You try to breathe through it, squirming beneath his body, his hand grips your hip, thumb moving in firm circles to keep you calm.

You shudder in bliss when his finger sinks halfway into you.

It’s not enough, and too much all at the same time. His breath on your mound, his tongue laving lazily at your clit, he curls his lone finger partially upwards, scattering pleasure before withdrawing his finger.

“No,” You cry, “Please please please please fuck me Billy,” Your breath hitches, “I need it so bad.”

You feel him hum, before his finger re-renters you.

“Poor sweet girl.” You think you hear him mumble from his spot between your thighs, and then he begins rocking his finger in you so gently, that it’s almost more of a micromovement than anything. Yet somehow still, he manages to give you pleasure.

“Please please please,” You keep whispering, afraid that he’s going to stop giving you what you need, what you crave for and dream about. He’s every fantasy come to life, tongue rolling over your clit wetly, an easy rhythm of pleasure that he draws out from you leaving no thoughts in its wake.

A broken sound escapes you, desperate, aching, and you think he almost feels apologetic with the way he lines up a second finger against your entrance.

It’s debauchery, the way his fingers feel, broader and longer than yours could ever, makes you feel so insanely full when he carefully pushes two digits all the way into you.

He fills the deepest parts of you, erases any sense of emptiness, makes you forget that you’d ever craved fullness in the first place.

And then his fingers start to move.

Your breath escapes you in a hot rush, mouth dropping open as he starts off slow, painfully slow, rocking his fingers into you, curling them up, making sure you feel every little movement.

His tongue is still playing with your clit, you feel like crying, you’ve never felt this way before.

You say his name, one hand moving from his hair, over to where he grips your hip. You want to hold his hand, and he obliges easily, fingers linking with yours, make you feel so much warmer and safer with him than ever before.

I’ve got you, he seems to say with his actions, go ahead and fall for me.

And of course you do.

Cunt spasming around his fingers, desperate cries leaving your mouth as he winds you up and helps you through your second release.

You whimper, little gasps leaving the back of your throat as your body shudders with the oncoming pleasure. He keeps pumping his fingers into you, and you can almost feel the smile he has on his face, pressed to your cunt. You squeeze his other hand in yours tightly, his thumb smoothing over your skin even then.

When he detaches from your heated centre, you sit up quickly.

You lean into him, pressing your mouth to his frantically, reaching for the zipper of his pants. He tries to help you, one hand trying to work at the button while the other grips the back of your head, but you only get in each other’s way.

You laugh into his mouth as you both fumble, but silently thankful when finally you get his pants undone.

He has to pull away with a grin on his face, climbing off the bed so that he can shove the material of his pants and his boxers off in one go.

You go brainless when you see his cock. Erect and near throbbing, a little bit curved, you feel your mouth water as you stare at the monster between his legs.

He was very right to tell you that he was bigger than your dildo, you swallow nervously, trying to figure out exactly how that was going to fit inside of you. 

Your eyes manage to glance at this thigh, you see a deep gouge on the side of his right thigh, you tilt your head in worry wondering what could have caused a scar like that, one that runs from his hip to his knee.

It must have hurt terribly, and your heart aches for whatever malady he’s been through in his past.

You seek to give him pleasure now, crawling on all fours to the edge of your bed, looking up at him for a moment, before dropping your head to suckle at the tip of his cock.

Billy hisses.

The salty taste of his precum fills your mouth. You can’t help humming at the taste of him. Slowly, you begin to bob your head, taking as much as comfortably possible.

His fingers cup the back of your head, slightly guiding your movements with no real force behind it.

“Good girl,” He grunts, guiding your movements, you hear him shudder out a violent breath, “So good for me.”

It makes you even more aroused, to know that you’re capable of returning the pleasure he gives.

Something shifts in the next moment, and he’s pulling his cock from your mouth and encouraging you into a kneeling position on your bed.

Your eyes slip shut as his mouth meets yours, something frantic inside of him now, and you’re eager and helpless to give him what he wants.

.

Billy can’t fight the predator anymore. The sensation of you sucking eagerly on his cock is too much and his control has slipped beyond his scope of reach.

Your hair is askew as he guides you onto your soft pillows, silk, to protect your gorgeous hair from damage. He pauses to look at you, your obedient eyes, willing to comply with anything he asks and it fills him with an uncontrollable power. The scent of your arousal is thick in the room, the aftertaste of your mouth and your cunt mixing on his tongue until he couldn’t extract himself from you even if he tried.

He hums, pressing his cock against your inner thigh, the heat and softness of your skin filling him with too much want. He’s fighting the predator, that pushes him to claim what was already his, what would be freely given to him if he asks.

.

His nose brushes your cheek gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” Billy asks softly, and you almost want to groan in frustration.

“Yes, please.” You say on a desperate breath, and you feel him kiss your cheek in response.

He takes your left hand in his, kissing at the tips of your fingers and you wonder if after tonight you’d be able to feel the ghost of his lips on your skin.

Fingers intertwined, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he uses his other hand to align his cock with your entrance.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks after a second, and you nod frantically, squeezing his hand and daring him to even think about stopping.

“So good for me.” He whispers against your cheek and then his cock is pressed intimately against your entrance.

He stretches you, and opens you up even further until he’s fit snugly inside of you, filling you so much that you’re not sure how you can breathe with the intrusion.

His nose brushes yours affectionately.

“How do you feel?” He asks, as if you’re capable of assembling any semblance of thought.

Your lips part, you suck in a deep breath, the very first, with his cock pressed deep inside of you.

He waits patiently for the answer.

“Good,” You breathe, “So good, Billy oh my god.” You express.

He gives a sweet little smile that manages to get you even more aroused.

“I’m glad to hear it. Ready for the rest?”

The-?

“What?” You ask obtusely.

“My cock, sweetheart, would you like the rest of it?”

You try to raise your head for some type of explanation but you don’t get very far with his body pinned against yours. His eyebrows draw together at your shocked expression.

“There’s more of you?” You whisper in astonishment.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and suddenly he’s laughing, burying his face in your neck and chuckling away as if his cock isn’t the largest thing you’ve ever tried to take. 

His laughter is sweet though, soft and lyrical and you can’t help clenching on his cock, and hearing his laughter turn into a groan, squeezing your linked fingers.

“Yes,” He gasps, lost in the tight grip of your cunt, “Yes, there’s more of me.”

Your eyes are wide, a little afraid, anchoring yourself to him in hopes that he helps you through your fear.

“Take a big breath for me sweetheart.” he guides, with a steady, calm voice, nodding his head as you accept his guidance.

“And out.” 

You do as he says, and shudder with pleasure as your body relaxes fully, you feel him slide deeper, eyelids fluttering as you discover more and more of him.

Finally, when his hips are pressed squarely to yours, and his cock fills you beyond what you thought you were capable of, does he finally say your name on a heated gasp.

You cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his rough stubble, he closes his eyes and presses his cheek to your palm and withdraws a little.

The first rock of his hips takes your breath away on a frantic sound. You hear him grunt in response, grinding his hips against yours, not moving too much but easily working into you.

“Billy.” You sob, legs tightening around his hips, one hand still linked with his.

He leans down, seals his mouth over yours, rocks into you in slow, lilting movements. You hum against his mouth, feels his body all around you, deep inside of you, holding you hostage and protecting you from everything except himself.

“You take me so well.” He grunts, his hot breath on your lips.

His mouth trails over your cheek, he kisses sweetly at your neck and shoulders.

His pace increases, his delectable body over yours, giving you pleasure that you barely understand.

His hand releases yours for a moment, only to grip both your wrists and pin them above your head, held firm in one large hand.

His grip on your wrist hurts a little, only adds to the pleasure of him fucking you.

He can’t stop kissing you, delving his tongue past your lips and exploring your mouth while he claims your body, hips rocking faster and faster into you the more time goes by.

He reaches a depth inside of you that you’ve never felt before, fills you with himself until you’re sure you’re the most whole you’ve ever been.

His cock pumps into you, your cunt is pulsing, sending large waves of immeasurable pleasure up your spine to fill your head. You feel your thighs tremble as the euphoria makes it all the way to your toes.

He keeps that pace, probably noticing the mindless state of you, your inability to form a single word, or produce a sound that isn't a breathless moan. You feel his influence on you in the farthest reaches of your mind, giving you more pleasure than your body can handle.

Finally, the pleasure sweetened even further, and Billy, in tune with your body, speeds the rhythm of his thrusts to match your needs. You gasp, barely able to find the thoughts, your body overflowing with absolute ecstasy and you’re almost afraid of what falling over the edge with him will feel like.

“Good,” He growls lowly into your ear, a sound you’ve never heard before, untamed, unhinged, and he’s using it to give you praise.

“So good for me.” 

Your orgasm is involuntary. It’s not yours, only a response written by your body to answer his call. The sheer violence of your bliss takes your breath away, you feel your cunt clench hard around his cock, trapping him securely in place as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through you. 

Vaguely, you’re aware of him groaning, but you don’t have the headspace to focus at the very moment. Your arms pinned above your head, his lips kissing at your face and neck, bare nipples grazing his chest and his cock stretching you wide.

Your cunt spasms, your body trembles, and trembles even more when he resumes his fucking, not even waiting for your first orgasm to fully subside before he’s trying to throw you right into the throes of another.

He’s harsher now, and you love it, your body revelling in the way he seems to lose control. He raises his head, you look deeply into his dark eyes. You can’t see much thought behind his eyes either, and you become acutely aware that you might be lost inside each other.

It only makes you that more desperate for him.

.

There’s no such thing as control anymore.

Billy’s lost any semblance of it, any memory of what it was like to be sane. 

He has lost his old self, and he has found you.

All he wants now is to keep you like this, open and vulnerable on his cock for the foreseeable future. Your skin hot with bliss, little sweet cries filling his head.

He leans down, runs his tongue over the top of your breast, hears you gasp, loves the dirty way you love these things, appreciates the salty taste of your skin.

The predator in his head is synced up with him, both aspects of himself agreeing that this is where he belongs, balls deep in his mate, feeling her take everything he has to give.

He feels a completeness, that he can give you pleasure so easily, like his body was made just for you, to please you in every way possible.

He groans again, his voice beyond his control, hoping the low grovel of it doesn’t scare you, but even that makes your cunt squeeze him in satisfaction.

Yours. 

He was yours.

He would only ever be yours.

He adjusts the angle of his hips, and he watches your lips tremble and your eyes water when his cock kisses a very sensitive spot inside of you.

.

You blubber mindlessly, sharp breaths and trembling thighs and you open up to Billy and you take everything he has to give.

You cum with a sharp cry. Eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as you try to process the bliss.

His hot breath on your skin, hips speeding up and suddenly a low grunt escapes him.

You feel his cock pulsing against your hypersensitive walls, you feel his cum, filling up the deepest spots of you and you can’t help the rightness of it.

Eventually, he releases your wrists, still deep inside of you, he braces his weight on his arms so that he doesn’t crush you.

After a moment, his arms wrap around you, adjusting you slowly so that your body rests on his, head on his chest, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you.

.

He tries to make you comfortable, the biological urge for him to stay inside of you for as long as possible is something he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know exactly how to control it. 

He sighs, his orgasm still going through him, still filling you up though he doubts you can feel such subtle movements.

You burrow into him, and he hums in amusement, arms wrapping around your form, his heart pounding in his chest at how close you are.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, checking in, fingers absentmindedly reaching for the edges of your hair.

“Wrist.” You say groggily, raising your left hand to his face.

“Fuck.” He voices, his eyes landing on the subtle bruises marking your wrist, he can make out the print of his fingers where he’d curled them to grip you tightly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, pain spearing his chest at the very idea that he’d hurt you. He holds your forearm gently, examining the faint bruising.

“Loved it.” You reply simply, he can hear the sleepy inflections in your voice.

He’d hurt you… and you’d loved it?

He makes a mental note to get some ice for your wrist, and to check it in the morning to make sure it’s doing better.

Now, he places a gentle kiss to the little bruise, feeling the abnormal heat of it on his lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He says to you.

You hum.

“Loved it.” You repeat.

.

"How is that? Is that better?" Billy asks, a little towel wrapped around a bag ice cubes pressed to your wrist.

You hum lazily, peeking an eye open to look up at him. You’re on your side, facing him, your left hand between you, bent to be in a more comfortable position. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” You mumble, feeling sleep wrap itself carefully around your sated body. Your cunt is sore, quivering still from his use. 

“Just a little uncomfy.” You try to explain.

He looks extremely concerned for a brief moment.

“I’m really sorry,” He tries to apologise for the fifth time.

You smile, shuffling your body closer to his, watching him focus on trying to keep his makeshift ice pack on your wrist. You kick a leg over his hip, not liking that he’d taken the time to put his boxers back on after he’d slipped from you earlier to grab the ice.

“Billy,” You murmur somberly, “I trust you, and if I really didn’t like it, I would have said something.”

“But I hurt you. Our first time together and I hurt you.” He says, his dark eyes so open and sad, hints of a frown turning down the corners of his lips.

You smile, your other hand rubbing his bicep and shoulder affectionately.

“I loved every second of it.” You whisper, unable to keep your mind conscious for a second more. You blink slowly, leaning into his body even more, heaving in a great big sigh.

“Please don’t leave.” You ask, as you tumble into unconsciousness.

.

He leans in, kissing the top of your head, and then your cold wrist, finally understanding that in your eyes, you don’t blame him.

His sweet girl, happy and asleep in his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers, curling around you, the panther purring inside of him as he falls asleep beside you.

.

His eyes flutter open when his phone vibrates on your bedside table. He’d pulled it out of his pants pocket and dropped it there on his way to get you ice. 

You’ve crawled your way mostly onto his body, your head resting securely on his shoulder, he somehow still manages to be holding the melted ice pack on your wrist that rests on his chest, though he’s not sure if it even makes much of a difference right now. 

He’s groggy, not sure if he’s ever been that deeply asleep before, absolutely comfortable, the very right temperature, the scent of strawberries wrapped around him.

He drops the towel- wrapped ice pack onto the floor beside the bed, rubbing his eyes as his phone continues to vibrate. 

He reaches for it, pauses for a moment when his movement jostles you. He holds you tight as his fingers wrap around his phone.

He swallows, squints, slides to answer, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake you.

“Russo.” He answers automatically.

“Bill.” Frank says, and it’s all Billy needs to understand that something is very wrong.

“What is it?” Billy asks, “What happened?”

“My boy’s missing.” Frank responds.

.

You shiver with the cold, tugging your blanket up and over your shoulder and letting out a sigh.

In your sleepy state, the memory of last night comes back to you.

You smile, extending a hand out to reach for the warm body that had been nearby when you’d fallen asleep last night.

“Billy?” You grumble out, when your hand meets nothing but soft pillows.

No answer.

God, you think, if he left this time I am never going to speak to him again.

You peek an eye open, sighing when there is no deliciously gorgeous man lying mostly naked beside you. 

A groan slips past your lips, you extend your body out, stretching this way and that and huffing when you accidentally kick one of your pillows off of your bed.

You weren’t going to let your hope plummet just yet, maybe he was just in the bathroom, or the kitchen, maybe he was whipping you up a cup of coffee right now.

You say his name louder this time.

After a moment of no response, you climb out of bed, searching for him, finding your apartment empty of him.

You stand in your living room, trying to reason with yourself, trying to find answers for questions that you could barely formulate.

Was this going to be like the movies? When you’d just lost hope, he would pop in with a breakfast bagel and a latte and apologise for leaving you?

You swallow, going back to find your phone and dialling his number.

Voicemail.

Your throat tightens.

Surely he hadn’t made you sweet promises last night only to break them?

When your second attempt at calling him has the same outcome, your mind spins to a final conclusion.

He’d left you.

Again.

.

.

.

[petertingle-yipyip]

BIGGER PERSON - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: billy x castle!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: When Frank’s sister finds out that a) her brother’s alive and b) her boyfriend is supposed to kill him, the conversation quickly turns bad.

Your brother, Frank Castle.

Months had passed and his death still didn’t feel real. You had seen the headstone, found a church that was willing to give the infamous Punisher his last rites. Even though Frank didn’t really care for religion towards the end of his life, your parents would’ve wanted it done so you made sure of it. You sent them the blessed crucifix from the private ritual.

You were frozen in place as the news story played out on your TV. The job Billy was working for the senator, the one he claimed was to protect from the unknown bomber, was also intended to protect him from Frank. Frank, the alleged accomplice to the bomber, was being framed - yet again - as public enemy number one.

You paused the screen when the channel was playing video from a cop car that very clearly showed your brother’s face and pulled your phone to text Billy. But as your finger was finding the conversation, you realized he would very likely lie to you again. He lied about the job to begin with, so why would he owe you an honest answer now.

So instead, you paced your living room until he finally made it home.

When you heard the door open, your grip tightened on the remote and you felt the urge to throw it. Either at Billy or close to it, you didn’t care, but you refrained from either. He walked in and said his usual greeting, moving in to kiss your cheek but you shoved him off.

“Tell me you didn’t know.” You said tightly, hoping the anger in your stare was enough to burn him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, a slight nervous chuckle pairing with the words.

“The bombings. All of it is being blamed on Frank.” You continued.

“Frank?” His brows furrowed and you had the urge to shove him again.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“No, I- I’m not.” His hands went up in surrender. “I want to finish this discussion, really. But honestly, baby, I’m too damn tired. Can it wait till later?”

“So my brother is alive and I find out by chance from some news story and you want to talk about it later?” You said angrily, gesturing to the paused screen that still displayed the photo captured from a police car’s dash cam.

“Can we not do this, Y/N?” Billy sighed and dropped on the couch, covering his eyes.

“No, I think we should.” You snapped. “That is my brother, Billy. If there was even a rumor that he was still alive, you should’ve told me!”

“It was just a rumor.” He enunciated, still not looking at you. “I hadn’t heard from him so how was I supposed to know it was true?”

“You still should’ve told me!”

“I’m sorry!” He shouted, standing suddenly and. pausing you to take a small step back. “What am I supposed to do about it now? What- What- What do you want from me?”

“Jesus.” You sighed and put your hands up in surrender. “Nevermind. It’s just my brother, right? Who cares? Not like I had a right to know but hey.”

You stormed off to the bedroom and ignored Billy’s muttering as you left. You didn’t even need Billy to confess that he knew or that he was helping Frank hide. All you wanted was an honest apology, but he couldn’t even do that.

The days went on and you still said very little to Billy. You still did your usual routine, breakfast and coffee ready before he went to work. Dinner either on the way or finishing on the stove when he got home. But outside of that, or answering a direct question he asked, you were busy with a book or a new TV show. Anything really that meant you didn’t have to say anything to him.

It was right before his TV interview about the attack on Senator Ori at the hotel, which they were attributing to Frank. He had came out and asked if his tie looked okay and you said “Sure, it’s fine” without facing him.

“Jesus, Y/N/N. How long you gonna act like this?” He complained.

“I shouldn’t have to be the bigger person.” You spat back, still keeping your back to him. “I shouldn’t have to bend to keep us on track. Let me ask you this, Bill. That guy with the- the eye thing. He having you go after Frankie?”

“Y/N…”

“I swear to God I will walk out that door.” You threatened and turned to face him. You watched his eyes dart between yours as he took in your expression. “Everything you’ve been doing lately, was it all about Frank?”

“Yeah...”

“Catching him?”

“Yeah…”

“Killing him?”

You didn’t even know how you managed to get that question out but you did. It felt as if your throat had tightened and the three short syllables were rung out of your voice box like water out of a towel.

“Yeah…” He answered, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart grew heavy in your chest and it nearly felt

like it had stopped beating.

“And you wonder why I’m pissed off.” You said flatly, pushing past  and leaving him behind you.

“Baby, it's just business, alright? Nothing personal.”

“It should be personal!” You turned and shouted. “That’s my goddamn brother!”

“You want me to apologize for doing my job?” He asked sharply.

“Yes!” You threw your arms forward. “Apologize for trying to kill my brother!”

“It’s my job!”

“Well excuse me for thinking you cared about me more than a fucking paycheck.” You put hands up in surrender and turned away, back into the kitchen.

“C’mon, babe.” He sighed, hurrying after you. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s always up to me, even when it shouldn’t be.” You complained. “You want me to take the blame for a fight and I do. I do because I love you and I always think it’ll be the last time.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, confused even. As if he had barely realized what the routine with you had become.

Argue about something, sometimes petty and sometimes not. Then you’ll make up when you apologize, but nothing changes. It was a vicious cycle that Billy was completely oblivious to, until now.

“I think that maybe next time you’ll be the bigger person cause I’m sick and tired of carrying the burden of every argument.” You shrugged, tears forming in your eyes that you ignored. “Keep moving my boundaries so you don’t cross lines, keep quiet when you yell. All cause I thought I had to to make it last between us.”

“I… I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He took a moment to think over his next words. It felt like a very defining moment for your relationship. He never meant to make you feel that way, and knowing he had was arguably the worst pain he’d ever felt. How did he not notice? How could he do that to you?

“Tell me how to make this right.” He said softly, gently reaching to take your hand. You looked up at him while you let your hand sit in his. He looked at you with wide, soft eyes that were begging for forgiveness. “I’ll do anything.”

“You think it’s that easy?” You countered with a small challenge. “Billy, you’ve been hunting down my brother for a man who doesn’t care about you. That guy will throw you under the bus as soon as he needs to, just like everyone else. But my brother? You know damn well Frank would’ve done anything to protect you. He never would’ve don’t this to you.”

“No… He would’ve.”

“Why?” 

He looked towards the ceiling and sighed heavily. Your stomach felt tight and your blood ran warm with anticipation while you took a step back, taking your hand away from his.

“What did you do?” You urged.

“The carousel.” He began and that knot in your stomach grew tighter.

“You were there?”

“No.” He looked back to you, a silent plea in his expression. To hear him out, to believe him, to forgive him. “No, I wasn’t, I swear.”

“You didn’t shoot him? Or Maria? Or the kids?”

“No, I wouldn’t do it.” He shook his head and you could’ve sworn you saw tears in his eyes. “I said no.”

You were quiet as things began to click and you knew it reflected in your eyes as Billy’s expression changed.

“But you knew… You knew they were coming after my brother and that’s why we went out instead of me going with them.” You realized and the thick weight of betrayal slammed into your chest so hard you thought the bones would break. “How fucking dare you stand in front of me.”

“No, Y/N, please. Let me-“

“Let you what?” You cut in sharply and your hands tightened into fists at your side. “Let you explain? What is there to explain when you just admitted to knowing that your worthless fucking friends were gonna kill my family and you did nothing?” Your voice grew to a scream as you rambled.

His eyes shot to your hands and he took a step back from you.

“My niece and nephew, Billy!” You shouted. “They were kids! And Maria, she loved you. And you just let it happen.”

“I couldn’t do anything.” He spoke quietly.

“You’re kidding, right?” You laughed in disbelief. “You could’ve warned him!”

“He wouldn’t have believed me!” He reasoned.

“Y’know what.” You took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

“Y/N..”

“Aren’t you late for your interview?”

He opened his mouth to speak but the glare you gave him kept him quiet. Instead, he collected his things and went to leave.

“I didn’t want all this.” He called from the door. “It wasn’t supposed to end up this way.”

“Yeah, you worked so hard to keep it from me.” You countered. “Good luck when Frank finds out.”

The door closed soon after and you found your phone. You scrolled your contacts until Karen’s name popped up. You had met the woman when her friends were defending Frank in court and you two had stayed decent friends. You texted and said you had seen the news about Frank and asked if she could help you get in touch with him.

karen (lawyer): just put flowers in the window

[chvoswxtch]

conflict of interest

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: another run in with your ex creates a problem with frank. billy is eager to step in and let him handle it.

warnings: swearing, billy being an instigating lil shit (yes that needs a warning, the man is a walking red flag)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is just a short lil filler chapter to help with pacing as i try to map out the progression of where this is all gonna lead. i thought it would be a nice lil break from the heaviness so far, bc frankie desperately needs to have a good time. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

The clearing of someone’s throat momentarily broke your concentration, but you didn’t glance up from your computer screen, fingers still furiously typing away as you tried not to lose the creative flow that was pouring out of you.

“Yeah?”

You were so focused on finishing up your sentence that you almost didn’t hear the airy sigh laced with slight annoyance that preceded a voice you had been trying to forget about since last week.

“Do you always show your visitors this much undivided attention?”

All at once your assault on your keyboard halted, and you lifted your gaze to look just over your computer screen to confirm that the voice matched the intruder you thought it was.

Steven.

You didn’t even bother to hide your own irritation at his unwelcome presence, glaring at him silently for a full thirty seconds before returning your attention to your article.

“What do you want?”

Hearing him sigh again was like hearing metal nails screeching across a chalkboard.

“I wanted to follow up with you about the article. I haven’t seen anything yet-”

“I handed it off to the original journalist.”

“What? Why?”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh of indignation, you made a show of pulling your hands away from your keyboard, looking up at Steven with your full, undivided, very thin strand of patience laced through your fiery attention.

“Conflict of interest.”

There was a mixture of disappointment and confusion etched clearly onto his features. He wasn’t used to not getting his way, or you being so cold with him, and clearly it was getting to him. The thought of causing him any kind of distress made you want to smile, but you did your best to keep it off your lips, knowing he would take it as an indication you enjoyed his presence. 

“Now, if you don’t mind-”

“Can we just talk?”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in…years. I think there’s definitely some things for us to catch up on.”

Eight. It had been almost eight years since you last saw him. He couldn’t even fucking remember how long it had been. The overconfident smile on his lips only made you want to grab your computer off your desk and throw it directly at his face.

If only it was heavy enough to actually do some damage.

“I don’t want to catch up, Steven. I have work to do, and a deadline to meet. Now-”

“Babe, come on-”

A sharp knock to your door pulled both of your attentions over to that direction, and your brows furrowed slightly seeing another familiar pair of brown eyes staring directly at you.

Billy casually strolled into your office, giving Steven a severely unimpressed side eye that traveled up and down intentionally slowly, flickering his gaze back up as he arched one of his dark brows in question.

“Price.”

Steven stood up a little straighter when Billy surveyed him, giving him his own once over, although his seemed to be composed entirely with confusion.

“Russo.”

As they stood there locked in what seemed to be an immature staring contest, your eyes kept darting back and forth between them, eventually settling on Billy.

“What, do all you rich people just…know each other?”

Billy narrowed his eyes as he stared at Steven, and the second Steven broke his gaze to glance at you, Billy turned to face you, a wolfish grin splitting across his lips as his eyes glowed victoriously.

“Not exactly, doll. Us self mades tend to steer clear of the trust fund dependents.”

Billy flashed you a wink as he rounded your desk to come stand next to you, and you had to fight the laughter that threatened to spill noticing the look of pure offense on Steven’s face. You weren’t sure if Billy could sense that there was history between the two of you, or if he was just feeling extra flirty today, but when he bent down to press a kiss to the top of your head, it completely caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with heat as you glanced up at him, unable to stop the bashful smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. Billy gazed down at you with a smirk as he leaned against your desk, shamelessly letting his eyes wander over you.

“Well, don’t you look pretty. As usual.”

“How the hell do you know him?”

For a second you had almost forgotten that Steven was in the room, and as you turned your head to look at him, you noticed that his cheeks had turned slightly pink from the anger that was burning in his eyes. But before you had a chance to speak, Billy cut you to the chase.

“I own the company that’s keepin’ her safe. Speakin’ of-”

Billy glanced around your office curiously, as if he had noticed something was missing, and his eyes finally settled on yours once again as he lifted both of his brows.

“-where’s the big guy?”

“Doing a perimeter check, said he needed to stretch his legs. He should be back any second.”

“Who’s the big guy?”

Glancing over at Steven, your brows pulled together near the center of your forehead, staring over at him like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Frank.”

Steven’s features immediately dropped in dejection at the mention of Frank’s name, and he blinked a few times before his face contorted in skepticism.

“You call him the ‘big guy’?”

“You saw him.”

“He’s not that big.”

Billy chuckled darkly as Steven crossed his arms over his chest like a disobedient child, arching one of his dark brows in his direction as a devious smirk pulled across his mouth.

“Sounds like somethin’ someone small would say.” 

As if on cue, the door to your office suddenly slammed shut, the sound reverberating in your office like a clap of thunder through the clouds, and the amusement on your face immediately vanished seeing the pure, unbridled rage in Frank’s eyes. Steven’s face seemed to pale, noticing that Frank’s attention was solely on him, and in one swift motion, he was seeking shelter behind your desk. His proximity to you only seemed to piss Frank off further, and Billy wordlessly grabbed the back of your chair to pull you closer towards the side of your desk he was sitting on.

“The fuck is he doin’ here?”

“He’s apparently got a death wish, Frankie. Lucky for you, Price, Castle here is somethin’ of a genie.”

Billy’s voice was full of pure amusement as he glanced over at Steven, very clearly enjoying the fear he saw evidently in his eyes. You didn’t know if Frank had told him about your interview with Steven last week, or anything about the two of you in general, but if there is one thing you had learned about Billy, it was that he was an instigator.

Steven squared his shoulders as he laughed dryly, glancing between Frank and Billy with that same signature cocky smile he seemed to have been born with.

“You’re not gonna cause a scene in public, and certainly not with someone running for District Attorney.”

In that second, you almost felt for Steven, because he had gotten so comfortable with his status and his family name, that he truly believed he was untouchable.

But he didn’t know Billy and Frank.

“No?”

Billy cocked his head to the side slightly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he stared Steven down once again with a smirk still on his lips. Sneaking a glance over at Frank, you noticed that he hadn’t moved an inch. His stony features were set in a hardened expression, jaw tense with anticipation, and eyes glowing with wrath. His hands were clenched so hard at his sides, the skin over his knuckles matched the color of the bone beneath. His nostrils were flaring with vicious exhales, and his shirt looked like it might split open across his chest from how hard he was breathing.

But still he didn’t move.

It was like he was waiting for something…a signal or approval or…

Permission.

For the first time since Frank entered your office, you noticed that Billy’s hand was held out in his direction, in a gesture that looked like ‘stop’. Glancing between the look on Billy’s face and Frank’s position by the door, suddenly it all clicked.

Frank was waiting for Billy to let him loose.

That epiphany had a shiver cascading down your spine remembering the damage that Frank inflicted on the man that had grabbed you in the bar. As you went to stand to quickly try and diffuse the situation, Billy grabbed onto your shoulder with his other hand and pushed you back down into your seat, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to silently say stay. He was the only one in the room that didn’t look nervous, concerned, or angry. He was enjoying this. 

Billy’s touch on your shoulder didn’t go unnoticed by Steven, and his jealousy apparently outweighed his will to live as he twisted his face up in annoyance and took a step closer towards you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You didn’t need to look at Billy to know that he was smiling. You could hear it in his voice. Something in his eyes must have caught Steven’s attention though, because he quickly stopped his advancement, narrowing his eyes as he scoffed.

“And why’s that?”

“You see, I own the company that’s currently protectin’ her. Frank is her assigned bodyguard. This pretty girl right here was threatened by a terrorist group, one of which we don’t know who all the members are, could be anyone. Which makes you, Price, a suspect, a target, and fair game all in one. Up to you how you want this to go.”

Those words had all the color draining from Steven’s face. There was a tint of a warning in Billy’s tone that heavily suggested if Steven made the wrong choice, no one in this room would be held responsible for the aftermath. His blue eyes frantically darted between Billy and Frank before finally landing on you. You gave a subtle shake of your head, but you could see the arrogance in his eyes, and before anything stupid could come out of his mouth, you lightly nudged Billy’s hand away from your shoulder and placed yourself in between all of them like a protective barrier. 

“Look, Peter is the one working on your article. He’s right down the hall. You can go check with him on its progress. I think he actually wanted an original shot of you to go with the article, alright? Go talk to him.”

The defiance in his eyes as he looked directly over your head to stare between Billy and Frank made you want to scream. Part of you was ready to give up completely, wanting nothing more than to step aside and let him face the consequences of his unwavering narcissism. But an even bigger part of you was fed up with all the rampaging testosterone in the room, and your patience with the man in front of you had worn out eight years ago. 

It was steadily beginning to run out with the other two. 

Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you laughed humorlessly as you turned around and pointed to all three of them.

“Alright. Out.”

Billy flashed you an expression of innocence as he held his hands up in surrender, a very clear look of ‘what did I do’ splayed across his features. You shook your head as you pointed an accusatory finger in his direction.

“You are not turning my office into a crime scene, William. And you-”

All of the anger radiating from Frank seemed to dissipate the second you pointed your finger and hardened gaze at him. The way his large brown eyes transitioned from being narrowed with murderous intent to wide with surprise and a little trepidation nearly made you lose focus for a second. You hated when he looked at you with those big, puppy dog eyes that made you forget why you were pissed at him in the first place. 

“You are not committing any crimes in my office, Castle. If you three want to keep your little pissing contest going, do it outside. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“But I didn’t-”

You angrily reached out to grab Steven by the collar in one hand to cut off his protests, your other hastily gripping onto Billy’s tie, using all your strength to drag them both towards the door where Frank was standing.

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear it. Out, all of you.”

Frank’s lips parted slightly in surprise as he stared at you in shock, glancing between Billy and Steven before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Out, Castle.”

As soon as you shoved all three of them outside your office, they started bickering amongst themselves. You slammed your door shut as hard as you could, stalking back over towards your desk with a huff as you sat down, harshly tapping at your keyboard to unlock your computer as you grumbled under your breath.

“Fucking men.”

Not even fifteen minutes later, there was a light tapping at your door, and you let out a heavy exhale of vexation.

“What.”

The sound of your door creaking open had your eyes snapping up, and you were met with two sets of very nervous looking brown eyes. You arched one of your brows quizzically as you stared over at them. Billy cleared his throat as he gestured behind himself.

“Price left.”

“And?”

Billy turned his attention to Frank, lifting his brows with an expression of incredulity, to which Frank slightly pursed his lips and shrugged. As the two of them silently communicated, you let out another heavy exhale.

“Is there a point to all this?”

Frank nudged Billy in the ribs, to which Billy furrowed his brows in an expression of discontent. Frank rolled his eyes as he pointed to Billy’s hand, and when Billy glanced down at it, he looked up at you with a charming smile and held up what looked to be a pizza box like it was a trophy.

“We brought lunch.”

Billy eyed you curiously when you finished off your slice of pizza, and when you shot him a glare, he simply chuckled as he looked over at Frank in amusement.

“You weren’t kiddin’. She is grumpy when she’s hungry.”

Billy’s words had your eyes widening, and you whipped your head around to face a very guilty looking Frank that had paused mid-bite. He quickly set his slice of pizza down and started to shake his head.

“I didn’t-”

“You asshole!”

Frank’s mouth hung open slightly as he furrowed his brows, glancing between you and Billy as he started to protest. 

“I didn’t say that-”

“Then what did you say?”

Billy snickered as he watched Frank stumble over his words, picking up another slice of pizza as he left his best friend to drown in the middle of your violent storm without offering a raft. Frank’s mouth opened and shut several times as you stared him down, his shoulders deflating as he sank back in his chair.

“Didn’t call ya grumpy. That was all Bill. How come you ain’t on his ass?”

“He didn’t call me grumpy behind my back.”

“Aw, for fucks sake.”

Frank crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slowly as he glared silently out the window. Glancing over at Billy out of the corner of your eye, he flashed you a wink when he caught your smile, and you couldn’t help but start to giggle. It really wasn’t fair how cute Frank looked when he pouted. It was also absolutely hilarious to see such a big and intimidating man pouting like a child in time out. As soon as the sound hit his ears, Frank swiftly turned his head in your direction, and the look of pure displeasure on his face had you and Billy both laughing uncontrollably.

“Fuck both of y’all.”

Frank reached over to grab the pizza box off your desk, lifting his legs up to place both of his worn boots over it as he finished off the slice he was working on.

“Y’all can get your own fuckin’ pizza next time.”

“Aww, come on Frank. Don’t be so…grumpy.”

Frank arched one of his dark brows and gave you a pointed look at the teasing tone that accompanied your smirk. Billy folded his arms behind his head, nodding his head over in Frank’s direction with a grin.

“Yeah, have another slice, Frankie. It’ll make ya feel better.”

Frank grumbled under his breath as he flipped both of you off, picking up another slice of pizza to shove into his mouth. 

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed

[e-dubbc11]

In Bloom

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

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really, maybe a swear word or two but extra fluffy bunnies and unicorns

Word Count: 2.7k-ish

Summary: Part 1 of 3 (I think) Reader is in a bit of a romantic slump so she buys herself flowers every Friday until one day she finds out they’re already paid for.

A/N: Based on this ask/idea from my lovely lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass I hope you like it, my love ❤️

This girl is single and haven't had anyone in a while. Miss the intimacy. Just to make herself happy, she buys flowers for herself every Friday. But one day, the flowers have already been paid for. It's the same thing the next Friday. Then one day, there's a little note attached to the flowers....

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

“When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Rolling your eyes, those words felt like a hard punch to the stomach coming from your mother.

Your Friday afternoon lunch with her felt like days. It all started with the lunch spot you chose…it wasn’t to her standards but then again nothing was. Nothing seemed to ever be good enough whether it was your job, the clothes you wore, the apartment you lived in, or the sandwich shop you picked for lunch.

It was all beneath her, sub-standard, and you had accepted the fact that nothing you do will ever be good enough for her so you just decided to continue to do whatever made you happy and not worry about what would be pleasing to her.

She tried like hell to mold you into what she wanted you to be, how she wanted you to dress, what she wanted you to do for a living, and even what kind of wedding she had wanted you to have. She didn’t succeed and when you called off your wedding to a man that looked perfect on paper but was a monster behind closed doors, she didn’t try as hard to make you into something that you just weren’t going to be.

She still took not-so subtle jabs though.

“Have a good weekend, hun. Try and get some sleep, you look tired.”

A visit with mom wasn’t complete until she commented on how you looked. It was definitely time to go.

The early autumn wind picked up as you walked from the sandwich place toward the flower shop which was a few blocks away. Your little Friday tradition was just something you had decided to do for yourself every week.

The flowers made your apartment just a little bit brighter and brought a smile to your face every time you looked at them on your dining room table.

You hadn’t really noticed the flower shop before but it presented itself when you needed a little cheering up.

It was after another bad first date, the third one in a row. You were walking home from the bar after yet another Wall Street type asshole had spent the early evening hours droning on and on about himself when the essence of rose attacked your sense of smell. It stopped you dead in your tracks and caused you to shift your eyes from the sidewalk to the door of the flower shop in front of you.

Bouquets of beautiful flowers were in buckets of water outside but so many more caught your eye that were inside so you decided to go in and look around.

“We close in fifteen minutes, Miss. Is there something specific you’re looking for?” The man behind the counter had asked with a warm smile.

You tried to smile back but it only came out as half a smile. “Something to make me feel better after a bad date?” You replied.

His expression tempered and you could tell he really wanted to help.

“Let me see what I can put together for you.” He said.

And he went to work pulling flowers from different buckets and arranging them into the most beautiful bouquet, wrapping them in paper and plastic and securing them with a ribbon. The bouquet was full of carnations, roses, gerbera daisies, and lilies…all in different shades of red and pink. It was almost like he knew they were two of your favorite colors.

Watching him meticulously put those flowers together for you already made you feel better about that night.

“Here you go, my dear. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.” He said handing you the flowers.

You were absolutely stunned at how gorgeous they were and that was how you met Mr. Campbell, the sweetest little old man with the prettiest flowers in town which kept you coming back weekly for fresh ones.

After the taxing lunch you just had with your mother, it was time to make yourself feel better with your weekly flowers.

“Hi, Mr. Campbell. How are you today!?” You asked.

He shifted his gaze from the bouquet he was working on to greet you, pushing his glasses up that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

“My dear, y/n! Well, I can’t complain…I woke up again so that’s a good thing, plus I knew I’d get to see your smiling face today and that’s ALWAYS a good thing.” He said with excitement.

A wide smile stretched across your lips. “This is my favorite Friday stop, Mr. Campbell!” You said.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he raised his eyebrows. “You sure it’s not the liquor store, y/n?” He asked with a slight chuckle while looking at the bottle of wine in your hand.

You let out a full blown belly laugh. “Ok, well that’s my OTHER favorite Friday stop. You know I like my wine.” You said trying to control your laughter.

“What are you in the mood for today, my dear?” Mr. Campbell asked.

You inhaled sharply and let out a deep exhale. “Well I just had a very long and taxing lunch with my mother so something a little crazy with a lot of colors would be perfect.”

And that’s all he needed to hear. In a matter of minutes he moved from bucket to bucket, picking out every color flower he could get his fragile little hands on and arranged them especially for you into one crazy colored bouquet.

“Awww Mr. Campbell, they’re perfect, as always! Thank you!” You said handing him the money for the flowers and the nip of Jack Daniel’s you bought for him every Friday. “There’s better tasting whiskey out there, you sure you don’t want somethin’ else?”

“No, no…this is what I like y/n.” He said, getting back to the arrangement he was working on when you walked in.

“Ok, well you just let me know if you want something else. I gotta get goin’, I have a hot date with the couch and this wine when I get home.” You said sarcastically.

“It’s Friday night, my dear. You should go OUT on a date!” He said.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh no, don’t you start with me too Mr. Campbell. My mother said the same thing to me a little while ago. I’ll see you next week.” You said as you waved goodbye and reached for the door.

An incredibly handsome man on the other side of the door opened it for you and ushered you through. He was tall, with dark hair, a short beard, eyes as dark as the night sky and a perfect smile.

You smiled back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He said.

You didn’t look back and headed for home.

The flower shop after you left.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Russo. The usual for you today?” Mr. Campbell asked.

Billy had his long overcoat tucked under his arm, watching with a smile as he watched you walk down the street until you were out of sight.

“Yes please, Luther. That would be great.” Billy said softly as he paced around looking at all the different flowers.

Mr. Campbell had caught Billy looking at you when you left the shop.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she.” He stated, raising his eyebrows.

Billy thought he had acted nonchalant while checking you out. “What?” Billy asked. “Oh…yes…she is. Was that her first time in here?”

“She comes in every Friday and buys flowers for herself.” Mr. Campbell said.

A sly smirk stretched across Billy’s face. “Well we can’t have that now can we, Luther.”

Mr. Campbell returned the smirk, looked at Billy over his glasses and asked. “Shall I add another bouquet to your weekly purchase, Billy?”

“Yes please, whatever she wants but do NOT tell her I’m the one that paid for them.” Billy said sternly.

“She is going to ask, so what am I supposed to tell her?” Said Mr. Campbell.

Billy rested his hand on the counter and pondered for a minute.

As he picked up his flowers and started to walk toward the door, Billy turned back to Mr. Campbell and said “Just tell her you are sworn to secrecy and she’ll find out…soon, I promise.”

**********

The following Friday after a long day at work, you clocked out and started your walk to the flower shop. The warm afternoon sun grazed the high points of your face as you strolled down the sidewalk just enjoying the crisp fall air, and in no rush to get where you were going.

This was your favorite time of year. Vendors in the street sold warm apple cider and kettle corn, people with their flushed cheeks hurried past you with their hands shoved into their jacket pockets, while a short gust of wind nearly took your hat right off of your head.

Your first stop was the liquor store. Mr. Campbell really enjoyed the nip of Jack Daniel’s you gave him every Friday, he always told you it was the best part of his week and you loved it too. It felt nice to have something steady in your life even if was just a sweet elderly man and a bouquet of self-bought flowers.

The wind caught the door on your way into the flower shop and you had a hard time holding on to it but you managed to close it before it flew off the hinges.

“A little windy out there, y/n?” He joked, barely looking up from the arrangement he was putting together.

You pressed your lips together and replied. “Just a little. I nearly lost my hat, Mr. Campbell!”

“So what sort of bouquet will make you feel good today, my dear.” He asked.

Looking around the shop, the sunflowers caught your eye. “Something with a few sunflowers, I think.” You said.

And off he went picking out autumn colors of burnt orange, bright yellow, and deep red with the sunflowers being the focal point in the middle next to fern like greens. It was a beautiful work of art just like every other week which always put a smile on your face.

As you opened your purse, Mr. Campbell stopped you, waving his hand at you to put your wallet away. “No…no, they’re already paid for y/n.”

You had a confused yet skeptical look on your face. “What do you mean they’re already paid for?” You said.

“Exactly what I said y/n, someone has already paid for your flowers.” He said, with a devilish grin stretched across his face.

“Well, who paid for them?” You asked.

“I am sworn to secrecy, my dear.” He said raising his hand and closing his eyes.

Reaching into your tote bag, you pulled out the nip of Jack Daniel’s. “Ya know I’m not sure you deserve this today but that wouldn’t be very nice of me, would it.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I’m sworn to secrecy but you will find out soon who paid for them, he promised.” He stated with a slight smile as you waved and left the store.

Who could it be?

For the next few weeks, every time you’ve gone to pay for your flowers they had already been paid for. You even treated yourself to long stem red roses one week, orchids the next and Mr. Campbell STILL insisted he had already been paid. It didn’t matter how expensive the flowers were, you didn’t have to pay a dime.

Every week, you would BEG Mr. Campbell to tell you who was paying for your bouquets but he didn’t fold. He didn’t give up the name of the man buying you whatever your little heart desired that week but he really loved watching you smile.

Finally on week number four, you walked in to pick out your flowers and after putting together your bouquet, Mr. Campbell had a little something extra to add…it was a note that said:

Someone as sweet as you shouldn’t have to buy their own flowers. I hope you’ve been enjoying them. Now look outside…

You looked up from the card toward the door and flashing his perfect smile at you was the handsome man that had held the door open for you a handful of weeks ago. Warmth rushed to your cheeks and suddenly there were butterflies in your stomach as he walked through the door and planted himself firmly in front of you.

“Billy Russo…it’s nice to finally meet you…” He said, extending his hand for you to shake.

You extended your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Billy. I’m y/f/n y/l/n. So you’re the one that swore Mr. Campbell to secrecy?” You asked.

“Ah I knew Luther would be able to keep my secret, although he wanted me to tell you two weeks ago. He can be a little impatient.” Billy said with a warm smile and a slight whisper.

Looking over the tops of his glasses, Mr. Campbell said. “Well don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And do you have something for me, my dear y/n?”

You had completely forgotten about the nip of Jack Daniel’s in your bag that was meant for him so you reached in the bag and set it on the counter.

“Oh!! I am so sorry Mr. Campbell. Here ya go.” You said.

He took the little nip bottle and walked into the back room, behind the counter. He was gone for a few minutes.

“So what do ya say? Will you have a drink with me? I promise, it will be something better than Jack Daniel’s.” Billy said.

You chuckled a little when you heard Mr. Campbell shout from the back room. “I heard that, Billy!”

“I knew you would, sir!” Billy shouted back. “He has the best flowers in town plus he’s a veteran and I like supporting veteran owned businesses.” Billy said.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. They looked like two endless pools of dark chocolate and they weren’t looking at anything except you.

Moving a stray hair away from your face, you replied. “I do too…I have friends and family that are veterans. Did you serve, Billy?”

“Three tours in Iraq…one in Afghanistan.” He said softly, inching closer to you.

Mr. Campbell surprised both of you when he appeared from the back. “Will you two get outta here! You can learn all about each other over a drink…GO! Get out!” He said, practically shooing you out of his shop and handing Billy his flowers.

“Alright, alright Mr. Campbell, we’re going…I’ll see you next week!” You said as you waved and walked out the door with Billy.

“Well? You wanna have that drink with me, y/n?” Billy asked again.

You bit down on your lower lip and glanced at the ground before capturing his gaze again. “I’d love to.” You said. “But I do have to drop these flowers off at home first so they don’t wilt. I live only a couple blocks from here. And it looks like you have flowers to drop off as well. Can I meet you in an hour? Is that enough time?”

Billy smiled. “That’s perfect…don’t you wanna know where I’m going to drop these off?” He asked nervously before opening the door to his car.

“As long as they’re not going to a wife or a girlfriend, it’s really none of my business Billy. But if you wanna tell me, you’re more than welcome to tell me later or another time. It’s up to you.” You said with a welcoming smile.

Billy looked surprised by your answer, he wasn’t expecting it and ultimately it was his decision of whether or not he wanted to tell you where he went every week at this time.

“Well ok then. So I’ll meet you back here in an hour?” He asked.

“I’ll see you in an hour…and Billy?

He looked up so his eyes were locked on yours.

A big smile stretched across your lips as you said “Thank you for my flowers.”

Billy smiled a wide Cheshire cat smile and winked at you. “You’re welcome, y/n and I will see you very soon.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi! Here I am: if you like the idea, could you please write something with this the prompt 6 from the angst with happy ending + the 8 from the fluff prompts?

Character: Billy Russo

Just the Common Cold

Masterlist

Contains: Sick fic, angst, fluff, protective Billy.

584 words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #sp's 150 fanfic celebration for more fics.

You don't like it when Billy worries

You knew something was wrong when the stinging in your throat and a headache so bad that the alarm light hurt woke you up at three in the morning. You were grateful it was your day off and Billy was on the job. You loved him, but he was the most anxious nurse on the planet, and there was no way you needed the level of concern he would give you.

You rolled out of bed and headed to the medicine cabinet, downing as much as you could safely take before returning to bed, with any luck, you would be on your feet by the time Billy got home in the morning.

The hours passed in a daze of sleeping and waking, and even though you knew Billy was coming home soon, you couldn't bring yourself to open the metal shutters that kept the light from your shared bedroom. Just as you were trying to create an excuse for why you were still in bed at midday, you heard the front door open. "Y/n, you're car's in the lot, I thought you were spending your day off at the pier with Karen?"

The door swung open, and you squinted automatically, the lingering pain in your skull turning the tiny slit of light into a stabbing pang of agony. He felt your forehead and then rushed to close the door before returning to your bedside with what you were sure was a worried expression. "You're sick, why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed and hoped your voice wouldn't fail you. "Because you'd worry, it's just a cold."

He huffed and stroked your face, the contact chasing away the biting at your skin from the fever. "Of course I'm going to worry. I love you." He sighed and looked at his watch. "When did you last take something?"

"Three, but I'm fine, it will go faster if I let the fever run its course." It didn't matter, he had already left your side to get drugs from the cabinet, and you knew there would be no point in protesting when he returned with them.

Much to your annoyance, he propped up the pillows behind you as you sat and handed the glass and the pills in his hand. "If you're not feeling better in an hour I'm calling Curt." That was enough for you to take them down and Billy pressed a kiss to your forehead before standing up again. "I'm just going to wash the day off, and I'll join you."

He was back at your side ten minutes later, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest. "Call me next time and I'll leave work."

His tone left no room for debate, and you nodded. "Only if you promise to not worry as much."

He chuckled and hugged you tighter. "I'll try."

Thankfully, forty-five minutes later, you started to feel better, stretching out of his arms as Billy gave you a knowing look. "I'm guessing waiting out the fever wasn't the only option."

You sighed. "No, I guess not. I'm just going to get from fresh air, you wanna come?"

His arms tightened around you, and he shook his head. "Can I just hold you a little longer?"

"Of course." You took a deep breath, the smell of his shower gel filling your lungs. "Thank you for looking after me, Billy. You might be worrywart, but I love you."

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

[reg-arcturus-black]

The Room is on Fire, Invisible Smoke

Soft!Billy Russo x Female reader

Part 1/2

Warnings: fire, mentions of gun, hints of SA

Part 2 here

"Bill - Bills, I - I need you... your help. The room is spinning and there's smoke every where... I can't breathe... I am stuck Bills... "

You could hear a door close behind him on the phone - an assurance that he was on his way to you. You put your phone down and coughed into your pillow, burying your face into it to protect your eyes from the smoke.

It felt like you were going to pass out. You knew the room was on fire and that you needed to run but you could not bring yourself to stand up straight. It was too much. You could not breathe. It was as if your lungs had no clean oxygen left. Your eyes were watering from all the smoke. Your vision was blurry. It felt like you had nothing to hold on to and life was slipping away.

That is when you heard your door knob rattling.

"Y/N the door is locked... You need to come open it for me," he shouted through the door.

You sniffled and wiped your tears. You could hardly see the door in the heavy smoke. You wanted to reach out to him but didn't know how. Your legs had refused to work and you laid there helpless.

"Y/N, please. Help me help you..."

You could see how important it was for you to get up but you could not bring yourself to. What would be the point anyway? The doorknob would be too hot to even touch. You did not want to burn yourself. A little voice in your head told you that this was it. You turned your head back into the pillow and sobbed. You would not live to see your 27th birthday, or meet your nephew or finally show your colleagues how good you were at your job or tell Billy that -

There was a loud noise followed by a big thud. "Y/N?"You heard Billy call out.

You felt a dip in your bed and a pair of strong arms helping you sit up straight. The same person cupped your face gently, making you look at him - into his pitch black eyes that could pierce into your soul.

"Look at me Y/N," he said as softly as he could, afraid that even loud noises would be enough to break you at the moment.

Your eyes were red from tears and could barely look into his. He looked at you with so much love, so much gentleness, it was impossible not to melt. But you still could not breathe. Air was not reaching your lungs.

"I need you to focus on 5 things that you can see, baby. You don't have to say them out loud, just find them."

His eyes, his hands that were now holding your arms, his grey sweatshirt that you adored, the way his nose crooked a little bit in the middle and the ring on his last finger.

You gave him a nod, letting him know that you had five things in mind.

"You're safe, okay? I promise. Now focus on 4 things that you can taste."

You looked around desperately, but nothing seemed to come in focus. There was too much smoke. You could not find anything.

You shook your head, tears flowing down. "There's too much smoke, Billy. I - I can't"

"Y/N, I promise you're safe - "

You put your face into his chest, sobbing. "I don't wanna die, Bills..."

Sighing, he put his arms around you, trying to figure out a way to help you. "Do you want to leave this place?" He asked.

You had barely nodded into his chest when you felt his strong arms lifting you up and carrying you out. You did not turn away from him until you heard your bedroom door close and he sat you down on your living room couch.

You gave yourself a minute to look around, your French windows letting the sunlight in and falling on your brown marble floors was proof enough that you were safe. You could feel your lungs being cleared up as he kept a glass of water in front of you.

You did not look at him for the next two minutes. You did not know what to say or how to thank him. You knew there was no real fire or smoke in your bedroom and he knew that, too. He still made the efforts to come rescue you from the invisible smoke.

Wordlessly, you got up and put your arms around him, a gesture he reciprocated but not in the same manner. He was the first one to leave the embrace and walked out the door. Your well being was all that mattered to him.

You did not blame him. You remembered the fight as clear as day. He had asked you, pleaded you, requested you, ordered you, begged you, not to go with the random guy you had befriended at the bar 2 months ago. But you didn't care. If he was not willing to confess how he felt, then you weren't going to wait for him anymore either.

"Are you telling me that you are going to go away for the entire goddamn weekend with a guy you barely know? You met him at a bar, for fuck's sake, Y/N! Are you not thinking clearly?" He had screamed, his hands in his hair, pacing in your living room while you packed.

"Guess what, Billy?" You had answered just as harshly. "That's how people get to know each other! I am a big girl and I can take care of myself!"

You had huffed and zipped up your bag. "Is there anything else?" You had asked, hoping that he would ask you to stay. Not because he was concerned about your safety but because he wanted to be with you.

You had grabbed your keys and mobile phone on the way out without another glance at him. "Lock up behind you," you had said and left him standing there.

If he was being honest with himself, he regretted not stopping you or asking you out right then and there. But he had realised it was too late when he heard his car run out the drive way.

Sighing to himself, he had pulled out his phone to call you. Sure, he wanted to be with you but your safety was just as important. He did not trust the guy even one bit. The guy kept screaming 'danger' to him. If the situation would not have involved you, it would have been an intuition which he would have tracked down. But with you, he had to be careful.

That is when his eyes fell on your TV.

"Curtis," he had said dialling him. "You have a friend who works at the NYPD, right? I have a plate number. I need to see who this guy is."

The camera in the building's drive way had given him a very clear view. He had paced in your living room, waiting for Curtis to call him back. He fidgeted with your vases, the polaroids on your fridge until his eyes had landed on the one with him.

It was a simple picture. Nothing special. Just the two of you sitting together, beer bottles in hand, cheeks red, laughibg over something that would have been way too stupid. He had smiled fondly at the memory. It was a karoake night with Frank and Maria. Beer had made everyone think that Billy could actually sing but you... you were truly exceptional. There was not a note that you'd miss. You were beautiful... and he remembered undressing you with his eyes that night. Frank had to shake him to break him out his trance and remind him that you were in public.

He picked up his phone the second it rang, already out of your kitchen. "What is it, Curt?"

"It belongs to some Dr. Trent Ross. No previous records of any crime. Not even a parking ticket."

Billy finally relaxed a little. You had never mentioned his last name or what he did but that was because he had never bothered to ask.

"But this car was reported missing a month ago, Bills."

He had raced out of your house into his car and called one of his men to track your number. Wherever you were going, it wouldn't have been very safe with that guy.

He tried calling you but it went straight to voicemail. "Y/N, Hi. Billy here. You need to be - I am sorry, okay? Call me back please. It's urgent."

He could not have said anything that would make him suspicious. So he had to come after you himself. After almost an hour of driving, he still hadn't caught up to you and you were still going. He had cursed himself when he had to stop for gas but had closed the distance soon enough. Until your signal went out.

"No, no, no," he had muttered. He decided to reach the place where he could last see your location. He had never felt more helpless. He drove for a while until reaching a crossroad. No idea where you were.

Until he saw smoke rising. He was farther away from the city and could barely see. The only lights he had were his car's headlights. He drove as fast as he could, his heart beating faster with every moment.

He had to drive for 25 more minutes before he finally reached the cabin you two were staying at. It was a pretty large one with the fire confined to one side of it.

Silently thanking whoever was listening, he dashed out of the car, in through the wooden door. The fire had not spread yet but the smoke had. He called your name again and again. But no response came.

For a second, he had thought you and the guy had managed to escape but he heard someone coughing in a distant. His eyes burning and watering, he made his way upstairs.

And there you were. Cowering near the window, too afraid to even move.

"Y/N?" Billy had called out.

Your eyes fell on him and you had leaped into his arms.

"I am so sorry, Bills," you had sobbed into his shoulder as he lifted you up easily, tightening his grip around you. "I - I should have listened to you. I am so sorry. He accidentally heard your voice mail and got all weird and started asking me about you and then got really angry... and - and - I am so sorry, Bills," you were pretty sure you were ruining his favourite t-shirt with mascara and tears but you couldn't help it.

Seeing Billy was a breath of fresh air, quite literally, too. He was your silver lining, your rainbow and flowers after a thunderstorm and your bestfriend. He had started meaning something more but he refused to acknowledge that there was something between you. However, you could feel it. You could feel it in the way he always tucked you in when you would pass out drunk, the way he would never let anyone else get your drink, the way he would always drop and pick you up from the airport. You could feel it in the way he was holding you right then.

He had gently shook his head and made his way downstairs, still not letting go of you. Afraid that the fire in the other room would engulf you the moment your feet would touch the floor.

He was about to walk out the door with you when he had felt someone sneak up behind him. He dropped in his tracks and put you down. You did not want to let go of him but one look and you knew it was important.

"Go to my car and lock it from the inside," he had practically ordered after handing you his keys.

You nodded and sprinted out.

No sooner had you stepped out that Billy felt a gun at the nape of his neck.

"Finally," he heard a man say. "I had been waiting for this opportunity."

"What do you want from me?" He had replied calmly, without turning back. He knew that any and all quick movies could affect your safety.

"You are the reason my brother his dead," the man seethed. "Clain Stelk, remember?"

Billy's eyes widened in realisation. "Stelk was a trafficer who had it coming."

He remembered as vivid as day when you had come to his apartment running, half scared, half angry. A man had recently moved into the flat opposite yours and you knew something fishy was going on. People would come and go at weird times from his house. You had managed to click a picture of him on your phone. You had thought that he spotted you so you had rushed to Billy's place, confident that he would be able to figure it out. Or would know someone who could.

"He was my brother!" The man yelled into Billy's ears, snapping him out of his thoughts and pressed the gun further into his neck.

"I didn't realise you were an arsonist, too," he said, stalling enough to figure out a plan of action.

"I would have made better use of my time. But the bitch refused so I needed her to realise her mistake."

Billy hadn't take a second to turn around and punch him right in the guts. He knew why he was after him but you didn't deserve that. His heart ached for the way this guy must have treated you. And no body could ever disrespect you and your wishes and survive.

Before he could get up, Billy had pulled the curtains from the rod and wrapped it around him, making sure he didnt have access to his gun anymore. Carrying him out on his shoulders, he threw Stelk into the trunk of his car and locked it from outside. He would call the cops on the way back to the city. For now, your safety was more important.

When he turned around, you were already out of the car, watching his actions carefully. He had made his way slowly to you and pulled you in, breathing in your familiar scent.

You allowed yourself to be comforted by him. You were safe. For now.

-----------

Let me know if you wanna be notified for part 2! It'll be a lot more angsty.

[bethdutten]

Frank looked through the scope of his gun, watching Billy talking on his phone outside a New York skyscraper. His finger was on the trigger, and it would be so easy to end it now.

But his family deserved more than Billy’s quick, simple demise. Frank planned on making the punishment fit the crime.

Billy ended his call, his eyes meeting someone’s in the crowd walking down Fifth Avenue. He smiled widely, his nose crinkling in that way Frank had only seen when Billy was really, truly happy. Frank moved the sight of the scope through the crowd, trying to spot what was making Billy smile like that, and—

He watched a beautiful girl make her way to Billy, a matching grin on her face. She had a bag from Bergdorf’s in one hand, the other resting delicately on her stomach. She couldn’t have been more than six months along.

As Billy pulled her into his arms and kissed her, Frank lowered his gun. This changed everything.

***

You let Billy take your bag from you, slipping his other hand in yours and leading you towards his driver parked around the corner. “How was lunch?”

“Good, I’m still craving cheeseburgers every second of every day. God, I’m going to be 300 pounds by the time this baby arrives.”

Billy chuckles, opening the car door and helping you get in comfortably. “And you’d still be the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

He caught you rolling your eyes before he closed the door, sliding in on the other side and letting the driver know you were headed home. Glancing over to you, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you subconsciously cradling your belly, looking out the window as you drove through the busy city streets.

Billy knew he didn’t deserve this. He thought of what he did to Frank’s family, for the millionth time that time, like he always did since he found out you were pregnant. The decisions he made were selfish and greedy. Purely for wealth and status, and he didn’t think twice about sacrificing Frank’s family for it.

Then he met you. And something shifted. And when you got pregnant, he made a promise to himself to make all of the death and destruction he has caused worth something. He would give his family the life they deserved, regardless of the one he didn’t.

You turned to him then, a soft sigh on your lips. “I met with a lawyer today.”

Billy raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Not even married and you’re already looking into divorce, hmm? Or is it a pre-nup you’re after?” He said it with a teasing tone, but you caught the hint of fear in his questions.

You laughed, leaning over and kissing him gently. “No, you won’t get rid of me that easily. I was actually looking into how we could make sure the baby isn’t registered with the state of New York when they’re born.”

“Why would—“

“Because of what you did and who you are, Billy. If there’s proof you have a kid, they’ll be a target. I think it’s better if, legally at least, we’re ghosts.” You looked at him expectantly, waiting to see his reaction. You didn’t take this lightly, and you didn’t want to offend him— but at the same time, Billy had told you every single thing he had ever done. You loved him no matter what. But now that a baby was involved, you were taking precautions.

Billy let out a shuttering breath. Fuck. He hadn’t even considered that. He ran a security company, your safety was never a concern. And he knew you could take care of yourself. But his kid— God, he was bringing a kid into a world where people were just waiting for him to slip up, looking for any weakness—

“Hey,” you spoke gently, reaching over and taking Billy’s hand. You rested it on your belly, waiting until his eyes met yours. “It’ll be fine. No one will protect us better than you, baby. I’m not worried, just being smart about it.”

Billy pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your belly, looking out the window as you got closer to your condo. His mind flashed back to Frank again, wondering if he was out there, waiting for the perfect chance to extract his revenge.

And Billy had just created the perfect way for him to do that. A family for a family.