#billy russo the punisher imagine

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter Two

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.1k

A/N : I was feeling well enough to finally get this chapter finished!

CHAPTER ONE

Master List

Chapter Two

The morning after, it felt like it had all been part of some weird, misremembered dream. The kind of dream that you’d wake from with a sense of longing, wishing that a man like that could be real. But it hadn’t been real. That was the point of The Red Ribbon; nothing that happened there was real.

Still, you found yourself thinking about those dark eyes, about your little game and the things he’d let slip about himself.

Not to mention the way he’d promised to find you again. 

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how things might be if your life was just a little bit different, if you’d met him somewhere else.

But that was stupid. If you’d met him outside of The Red Ribbon, it would have been you and not Bunny that he’d met, and you were certain that he wouldn’t like who you were behind the mask.

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself from your warm bed and got ready for your day. As you stepped into the foyer of Anvil, you hoped that Mr Russo wouldn’t be there and that he’d been lying about turning up at 5am. All you wanted was a nice, quiet morning where you could get things done without him making you feel like crap.

But you weren’t that lucky. 

As you reached your desk, you could hear him on the phone - you only caught snatched words, but it sounded like he was trying to describe someone - but you thought nothing of it as you sat down and opened your laptop.

You were gifted ten wonderful minutes before his office door opened.

“I need everything we have on the Harris deal and I want my lunch at one,” he instructed.

“Yes, Mr Russo,” you said automatically, reaching for a pen. “What would you like for lunch?”

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” he said, “But get it from that place on 53rd, not the place on 38th.”

“Okay. And do you want your morning coffee yet?”

“Yes. In fact, get it as soon as you’ve pulled those files for me,” he continued before pausing a beat, “and don’t make a mess of them.”

“Okay.”

Then he was gone, leaving you to diligently set about your tasks for the day. 

Getting his coffee went without a hitch, and so did his lunch order, but the files he requested weren’t so easy. 

You managed to get almost all of them ready for him, but there was one - an important financial document, that was giving you problems.

You stared at the screen, trying every way you knew to open the files, only to be met by the same Corrupted File message. You called down to IT, desperately begging someone to come and have a look.

You’d met Ryan on your first day with Anvil, he’d help set up your laptop and give you access to everything you’d need to do the job and, since then, you’d struck up something of a work-friendship with him. 

He leaned over you, looking at your laptop, clicking the file and going through - whatever tech magic it was that he thought might salvage the file. Eventually, he managed to find the file and you quickly sent it to print.

“There you go, nothing to it,” he said, smiling down at you, still leaning ever-so close to you.

“You’re a lifesaver, Ryan. Honestly, you have no idea how much shit I’d be in if -”

Ryan pulled back at the sound of a door opening and you both turned to find Billy Russo standing there.

“I was about to ask why my lunch was late, but I guess I don’t have to,” he said in that cold tone he seemed to reserve just for you.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the clock - fuck-fuck-fuck, you were supposed to have picked up his lunch twenty minutes ago.

Ryan muttered something of an apology and hastily made his way towards the door, seeing himself out.

Quickly, you got to your feet, knocking your desk and causing your water bottle to topple, soaking the desk as it rolled off and onto the carpet. You cringed, watching as water dripped off the desk and started to create a puddle on the floor.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you do anything without fucking up?” Russo sighed.

“I’m sorry, Mr Russo - there was an issue with one of the files so -”

“So you had to call someone from IT to come and flirt with you?” He said harshly. “Look, I don’t care about excuses, I just want you to do your fucking job, okay? It’s not fucking hard.”

“Yes, Mr Russo.”

“Now, clean up this fucking mess, and go get me my lunch. If you don’t have it on my desk before my meeting at two, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”

You managed to hold back tears until his office door was shut, but you didn’t have time to wallow and cry, no matter how much you felt like you needed to. You threw yourself onto hands and knees and quickly mopped up the spillage before racing out of the building to hail a taxi.

He barely even bothered to look at you when you returned with his lunch with only fifteen minutes to spare, and you were almost certain that he’d wanted you to fail. He wanted a reason to fire you.

Dread followed you for the rest of the day, filling your chest like a weight that dragged you down the depths of despair. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you lost your job at Anvil, especially since you were certain that Mr Russo wouldn’t exactly offer you a glowing reference.

On your way home, you checked your bank account and realised that, once again, you were reaching the end of your overdraft. If you lost your job you were going to run out of money and then...

You didn’t want to think about then...

The next day followed the same pattern; the barista at Starbucks managed to fuck up Mr Russo’s coffee order, so he took it out on you, sending you back to get him fresh cup, despite the freezing cold rain.

By the time you were at home preparing for your next shift at The Red Ribbon, you knew what you were going to have to do.

You got there early, before the club even opened and, instead of getting changed straight away, you headed to the manager’s office. Fortunately, unlike your boss at Anvil, Val who ran The Red Ribbon was a lot more... approachable.

You went in with a whole speech prepared, about how you wanted to change your limits, but it wasn’t really needed.

Negotiated touching, meaning that physical touch wasn’t entirely off the table but patrons shouldn’t expect it. They would need to ask or, if the situation called for it, you would need to ask. And, still, you got to set your own limits, you got to say no and have Rocky deal with anyone who pushed your boundaries.

“Are you sure?” Val asked, looking for any sign of doubt. You gave a nod, not trusting your voice to not betray you. “And just what brought on this change of heart?”

You couldn’t tell her about Anvil, about the day job you were certain you were going to lose; it was too high profile, too dangerous, she’d see it as a conflict of interest, and the last thing you needed was for her to fire you.

You managed a shrug. “I just figured it was time. My rent is going up next month and I’m sick of scraping to get by.”

By rights you shouldn’t have been scraping by at all, even with just the money that you made from working at The Red Ribbon. Val shot you a questioning look, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t ask how you managed to burn through so much money so quickly. Everyone at The Red Ribbon had their own stories, you supposed, and you were no different and, while Val always did what she could to make sure everyone was safe and content, ultimately, she was there to make money too.

“Okay, as long as you’re sure you’re happy doing this.”

“I am. Really. I’ll be fine.”

And, that was that.

As you stepped out onto the club floor that night, wearing the fox mask, you were greeted by Rocky. It quickly became clear he knew that you’d changed your limits and, as he fitted your security bracelet for the evening, he was very clear about what you should do if you felt uncomfortable even for a second. Then, he followed you to the fox room and told you he’d be right outside all night.

Everything was fine.

It was shocking just how fine everything was. While touching was allowed, all you got was the occasional pat on the shoulder, a gesture that you returned in kind, but even with just that, you saw an increase in your tips by the end of the night.

Over the next few days, you found yourself almost forgetting about Tall, Dark and Handsome, as you lost yourself in trying to keep your head above water at Anvil, and making more money at The Red Ribbon.

It was a week to the day that you stood in front of the board, checking your room assignment for the night when you noticed that you were in the cat room, one of the smaller rooms in The Red Ribbon, usually only used when there were one or two patrons that wanted private service. There was a note beside your name in brackets; by request. 

Some of the hosts had repeat customers, people who were so impressed by their skills that they requested the same host every time, but it was the first time that it had ever happened to you.

It was him.

It had to be him.

Your heart stuttered as you made your way to the cat room, saying a quick hello to Rocky as you got your bracelet fitted. He must have sensed your nervousness because he asked you if you were alright, if you needed him outside the door just in case. You shrugged him off, told him it was fine.

You’d never hosted in the cat room before, so you took a few minutes to familiarise yourself with it and to make sure everything was clean and comfortable.

Then the door opened and your heart threatened to stop completely.

“Bunny.”

His voice sent a shiver down your spine and brought a smile to your lips.

You tapped the cat mask on your face. “Not tonight.”

“You can put on any mask you want but you’ll still be my Bunny,” he said without a second of hesitation.

(His Bunny?)

Your breath caught as he stepped towards you, your head tilting back slightly the closer he got so that you could see his dark eyes.

“I told you I’d find you again,” he said.

“You did,” you said, trying desperately to calm your racing heart. “Though, I’m not sure if it counts as cheating to pay to find me.”

You smirked at him and watched as he considered the comment.

“I play to my strengths,” he said, shrugging.

“Money is a strength?”

“It is if you have it,” he answered.

He took another step, until there was no space left between you.

“Can I -” he started to ask but then seemed uncertain of something, “- am I allowed to touch you?”

His hand flexed as his side, his fingers seemed to itch and strain, wanting nothing more than to reach for you.

“Yes,” you answered softly, breathlessly.

Slowly, cautiously even, he reached for you, placing his hand on your cheek, just below the mask. Your eyes closed and you leaned into the warmth of his hand.

“What changed?” He asked, still sounding uncertain.

It took you a couple of seconds to figure out what he meant; when you’d last seen him a week ago, you’d been strictly hands off but, now, you were letting him touch you. You shrugged and shook your head a little.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Your hand rose to hold his, keeping it pressed against your cheek for a few more seconds before pulling it away and using it to lead him towards the sofa.

With a playful smile, you pushed him down onto the sofa and reached down to frame his face with your hands. As he looked up at you, it struck you just how tired he looked, and it brought about a strange want inside of you; the desire to take care of him.

“Let me get you a drink,” you said softly, lingering for a few more seconds before pulling away from him.

The bar was a lot smaller in this private room than the one you’d met him in, mostly meant for solo patrons and mostly those that wanted to do a lot more than just touch. Still, the bar was well stocked, and it took you no time at all to fill a glass with some ice and pour him a healthy measure of scotch.

When you returned to him, he took the glass from your hand and looked at you with some confusion as you sat beside him, your leg pulled up onto the sofa so you could face him better.

“Seriously, what changed?” He asked again.

“Maybe I was just optimistic that you’d find me again,” you answered with a shrug.

“So you’re... you’re okay?”

Of course, you knew where the thought had to have come from; he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you were willing to let masked strangers touch you for money, and that there had to be some terrible reason behind it.

“I’m fine,” you told him, reaching to cup his cheek, “so stop worrying about me and drink your drink.”

As if taking your words as a challenge, he lifted his glass and knocked it back in one go. Then, he seemed to settle a little, sitting back and fixing his dark eyes on you. You relieved him of the empty glass and placed it on the table, quickly returning your full attention to him.

“You look tired,” you said, the hand on his cheek moving, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“It’s been a long week.”

His eyes flickered shut and you heard him let out a soft sigh.

“Want to talk about it?”

His head shook, eyes still closed. “Just work stuff I’d rather not think about.”

“Then what do you want to think about?” You asked playfully, hoping to lighten his mood.

“You.”

“What about me?” You prompted, still running your fingers through his hair.

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” you said, letting your fingers still for a moment.

Your breath caught as his eyes opened and he looked at you again. There was something so unreadable in his dark eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a promise. He didn’t say anything so you continued.

“And, I think you wanted me to kiss you,” you said before pausing for a beat. “Didn’t you?”

That got a smile from him, that same little smirk that had been stuck in your mind since the last time you’d seen him.

“Wanted to do more than kiss you, Bunny.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said, barely holding back a smirk.

He laughed, daring to reach for you again, his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips.

“What is it about you?” He asked softly. “How is it that I feel so at ease when I'm with you?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest and you felt heat creep across your cheeks. It took every ounce of common sense at your disposal to remind yourself that the moment wasn't real and that, if he was face to face with the real you, he probably wouldn't be interested.

“The mask,” you offered, “or the fact that there's no expectations beyond this moment. We can be whoever we want to be right now and no one can say that we can't.”

“And who do you want to be right now, Bunny?”

“I want to be your Bunny.”

He seemed almost taken aback by your answer, shifting in his seat, leaning closer to you.

“You want to be mine?”

“For the night.”

“Just for the night?”

Your expression softened and turned into something a little sadder, knowing that you couldn't indulge him even though some part of you desperately wanted to.

“Let's not ruin it by thinking about later,” you said, forcing a smile to your lips. “Let's just enjoy now. Do you want another drink?”

“No, I want another kiss,” he said with all the confidence of a man who usually got exactly what he wanted.

“Oh, you do, do you?” You asked playfully.

Your fingers stilled and, instead, lightly gripped his hair as you lost yourself in his gaze. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game and, while you might have wanted to tell yourself that it was just the job and that all of this was just because he had paid for your time,  there was more to it than that. It was silly but, some part of you wanted it to be real.

After the week you’d had, you wanted a moment where you didn’t feel useless, a moment where you felt wanted, even if the whole thing was just some ridiculous fantasy.

And, maybe, that was exactly what he wanted too, some escape from reality for an evening.

“I do,” he said, but made no attempt to close the distance between you.

He was giving you the choice. He wasn’t demanding or forcing it just because he was paying for your time.

With a smile on your lips, you leaned towards him and kissed him. It was nothing special, just a light peck on the lips, but it felt like so much more. It felt like a promise, an offer of something wonderful, but only for the next few hours.

His hand slipped to your neck, fingers resting above your racing pulse, and you could tell from the slight narrowing of his eyes he could tell that your heart was beating for him in that moment.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Don’t thank me. I wanted to kiss you.”

Reluctantly, you let your fingers slip from his hair and you sat back beside him, creating a little bit of space between you. As much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you didn’t want to rush or put yourself in a situation that you’d regret.

“So, should I ask how much money you had to spend to make this happen?” You asked, smiling playfully.

“Oh, an obscene amount,” he said, grinning straight back at you.

“Obscene?”

“A truly disgusting amount.”

“You rich guys, you think you can throw your money around and get whatever you want, don’t you?” You asked with mock indignation. 

“I told you, Bunny; I always get what I want.”

You burst out laughing, amused by how serious he managed to sound. Though, in all honesty, you were trying not to actually think about how much he must have paid to make this happen. It was both unsettling and exhilarating to think that anyone might want to spend that sort of money just to be around you.

“You might always get what you want, but I’m starting to think you rarely get what you need,” you told him before getting to your feet.

You grabbed his glass from the table and headed back to the bar, this time bringing the scotch bottle back alone with a fresh glass of ice.

“You think this is what I need?” He asked as you refiled the glass and set the bottle down.

“No, I think what you need is a good night’s sleep,” you told him softly, sinking back onto the sofa beside me. “When was the last time you slept more than a couple of hours?” 

A subtle shift in things followed, a clumsy sort of tension, as if you’d shattered the illusion that you’d both been trying to hide in. For a moment he looked at you and you almost braced yourself to be told it was none of your fucking business. After all, who were you to say such things to him?

“It’s been a rough couple of months,” he said, giving an uncomfortable shrug and you noticed an awkward sort of tension in his shoulder.

Without thinking, you reached for him again and began to softly massage where his shoulder and neck met. He let out what could only be described as a relieved sigh and, for a few seconds, he let his eyes close.

“Are you always so tense, or is this just the effect that I have on you?” You teased.

“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t inspire a certain sort of tension... well, it’s more of a stiffness really...”

Your fingers squeezed a little tighter on his shoulder. “Oh, really? Sounds uncomfortable.”

“I’ll survive.”

You managed to hold your composure for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. He joined you and you couldn’t help but wonder how often he got to laugh like that. Not often, if you had to hazard a guess.

“I guess I should be flattered,” you said once you managed to stop laughing.

“Is that your way of telling me that you haven’t given me a second thought since the other night?” He asked, almost pouting.

You bit your lip, torn between brutal honesty and the safer option.

“I might have briefly considered you, once or twice,” you confessed.

It was a dangerous game, and a silly one considering you knew nothing about him. In fact, the whole thing was a little ridiculous; both of you were acting like your first meeting had been more than a couple of hours of silly comments made across a bar. Both of you were acting like it had meant something.

But it was hard to deny that there had been some spark of connection and, as childish as you felt for indulging it, you wanted more.

You watched as he took another drink and, again, drained his glass.

“Tell me, when you were considering me, were you considering anything in particular?” He asked.

“Hmm,” you hummed, appearing lost in thought for a moment, “I can’t really remember.”

Before he could answer, you leaned forward, reaching for the bottle on the table when, suddenly, you felt his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Fingers cold from gripping his glass found your chin and he angled your face towards his so he could kiss you. 

This time it wasn’t just some chaste peck on the lips. His tongue pressed against the seam of your mouth and your lips parted for him, letting him deepen the kiss while your fingers fisted the fabric of his jacket. His lips tasted of scotch and desire, and it was easy to lose yourself in the moment.

When the kiss finally broke, you let out a contented hum, your eyes remaining shut for a few long seconds. 

“That’s what I was considering,” you said, lips pulling into a smirk again.

“Then maybe I should do it again.”

Before you could even think, his lips were on yours again. You fingers ended up back in his hair, gripping the dark strands and pulling him closer, keeping him against your lips as you kissed.

No one had ever kissed you the way he did; hungrily, needily, like he thought he might die if he didn’t have just one more taste of your lips.

And that was how the evening went from there; teasing playful comments interspersed with kisses that seemed to demand more and more.

You felt like your grip on your sanity was slowly loosening and it wouldn’t be long until it was gone entirely. Here was a man you didn’t know, a man whose face you’d never seen, but you were more than willing to spend the whole night on his lap making out with him as if he was your true love.

Every time you caught yourself thinking about it, you tried to rationalise it; he was a customer and this was what he wanted. 

You were both adults who understood the situation.

(Right?)

Eventually you moved from his lap to refill his glass, wanting to at least make a show of being a good host, even though he pouted and complained that you weren’t allowed to drink with him. And, when you moved back towards him, you were quickly pulled back onto his lap, this time straddling him - so he could see you better, he explained with a smirk that tied your insides in knots.

You ran your fingers through his hair again, smiling at him as he sipped his scotch and stared right back.

“Tell me something real, something about you that no one else knows,” he said, still staring into your eyes.

“I like to go to the Rockefeller Center to watch the ice skaters in the winter,” you confessed as if it was some great and terrible thing.

“You just go to watch? You don’t skate?”

You shook your head and bit back a laugh. “No. I’m not... uh, I’m not very good at ice skating. I'm kinda clumsy, I'd spend all my time falling over...”

“I don't believe that, I've seen you balancing trays or drinks and walking around just fine.”

It was strange that you'd never stopped to think about it like that; you couldn't remember ever dropping anything while you were working at The Red Ribbon, while you were hiding behind the mask, but you could barely get through a day at Anvil without tripping over your own feet or making a mess of something. Maybe that was another benefit of spending your nights as someone else.

“Can you ice skate?” You ask, deciding to redirect the conversation.

“A little, but it's been years since I last tried.”

“You should go some time, have some fun,” you suggested. “You look like you need more fun in your life.”

“I've got all the fun I need right here, Bunny,” he answered back without hesitation. 

“I mean real fun, not…”

It struck you that you didn't even have a word for what this was. A fantasy. A pipe dream. A waste of his time - if you wanted to be brutally honest about it.

“Not what?” He asked, picking up on your moment of hesitation.

“I just mean that when you get bored of this - of me - you should do something fun for yourself, something that makes you smile,” you said with a shrug.

His head shook and you could see the confusion on his face despite the mask.

“Who says I'm going to get bored of this?”

“Come on, handsome, we both know how this goes...” you answered as gently as you could. “You can't just spend the rest of your life coming here to see me.”

“Why? Is someone gonna stop me?”

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze and, realistically, you knew that you should be at least a little bit concerned. He was a customer, this was your job. It wasn’t like you’d just met each other in some bar or coffee shop, and there was really only one sort of person who wanted to come to a place like The Red Ribbon to see the same host every night. But he didn’t seem like that, it didn’t act like some lonely weirdo who thought it was something more than it was.

“You’ll run out of money,” you joked.

“I can always make more.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to refuse,” he countered.

That had you laughing again, resting your hand above his heart, and shaking your head. You leaned forwards, your masked forehead against his, eyes closing tight.

“Carry on like this and I might actually start believing you,” you said softly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he answered just as quietly.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again and his arm was pulling you closer. The kiss seemed more desperate as he tried to prove what he was telling you was true, and the longer it went on, the more you believed him.

Your chest pressed against his and he groaned into the kiss. A moment later you felt him between your thighs, a hard ridge tenting his pants. His hand moved to your hip, pulling you against him as he pressed upwards, grinding himself against you. You let out a soft moan into the kiss that only got louder as he took your bottom lip between his teeth.

Fuck.

You knew that you should stop but you couldn’t, so you did the next best thing and tried to take control of the situation, making sure he was at your mercy and not the other way around. 

You pulled back a fraction and let your hands glide down the front of his shirt, all the way down to his waistband. Ignoring the trembling in your fingers, you quickly unbuckled his belt and made a strat on the fastenings of his pants. His breath caught as you tugged down the zipper and you hesitated, offering him a brief split-second to tell you to stop. When he didn’t, you slipped your hand into his pants and beneath his boxers to pull out his cock.

Your eyes widened as they travelled down his body to look at him, hard and growing harder still in your grasp. Thick, long and perfect, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. For you. He was hard for you.

“Fuck,” you muttered before you could think to stop yourself.

And he just laughed.

“See something you like, Bunny?”

Instead of answering you bit your lip and started to stroke him, slowly running your hand up and down his shaft. His mouth went slack and his head dropped back, and you paid attention to every little sound and flicker of pleasure on his face, learning exactly how he liked to be touched. Your grip tightened and your hand twisted ever so slightly, and the groan that left him sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your neck, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat until you almost forgot that you were the one giving him pleasure.

You didn’t snap back to reality until you felt his lips start to suck the skin just above where the red ribbon sat around your neck. Quickly, your free hand gripped his hair and gave a gentle tug.

“You can’t mark me,” you told him quietly but firmly.

The disappointed grunt he gave was almost enough to have you reconsidering, but he was quickly distracted by your hand.

His cock throbbed in your grasp, veins pulsing in time with his racing heart.

“You like that?” You muttered in a soft and sultry tone. “You like me stroking your cock?”

“Yes - fuck, Bunny - yes,” he groaned.

“Are you gonna come for me?” 

There was no telling where your new found confidence had come from, you’d never been the sort to engage in dirty talk before but something about the moment made you feel powerful. That you, of all people, could have some powerful, wealthy man trembling beneath your touch was an intoxicating feeling.

“Come for me, handsome. Show me how much you like me.”

You watched as his jaw set and his teeth gritted, like he was trying to hold back, like he wanted the moment to go on and on. It only made your hand move faster, fingers twisting around his shaft.

When he continued to deny you, your fingers in his hair tightened their hold again, pulling his head up and forcing him to look you in the eye.

And that was all it took.

His cock started to twitch and you felt warm cum running over your hand, but all the while you held his gaze, enjoying the desperate little sounds that were escaping him.

“Fuck, Bunny,” he groaned, breathless and boneless as he sank back against the sofa.

You gave him a triumphant smirk, your hand still gripping his cock as it started to soften. When you finally pulled it away, you lifted it to your mouth and made a show of slowly licking his cum from one of your fingers.

After a moment more, you slowly stood, ignoring your shaking legs as you headed towards the bar to grab a towel to clean up with. You quickly rinsed your hand before returning to him, kneeling between his legs and tenderly wiping him clean.

When you were about to pull away again, you were stopped by his hand on your chin, tilting your head up.

“Tell me it’s not just about the money,” he said.

Your heart almost stopped at the request.

As much as you’d been trying to tell yourself that you were playing the part of Bunny, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true, not with him.

“It’s not about the money,” you answered, feeling your cheeks start to heat, “I wouldn’t’ve done that with you for money.”

It felt like the most honest thing you’d said to him so far. If he’d asked, if he’d thrown money at you like so many men had since you started hosting at The Red Ribbon, you would have told him no. 

No, you’d done it because you wanted to because, regardless of how strange and fucked up the circumstances were, you enjoyed his company, even if you were both hiding behind your masks.

But, it seemed that he wasn’t willing to hide behind masks anymore.

You recoiled the second you felt his fingers nudging the cat mask upwards, your fingers tugging it back into place.

“Don’t,” you said, begged. “Don’t ruin this.”

“I - I’m sorry. I just - fuck, Bunny - I just want to see you.”

He sat forward and his hand found your shoulder, offering a gentle and reassuring squeeze that really didn’t help matters.

“We can’t. That’s not how this works,” you told him, trying to keep the regret from spilling into your voice.

He nodded and started to tuck himself back into his pants. You took the opportunity to pull back and get to your feet.

Then he was standing, pulling his jacket back on. He reached for you and pulled your body to his, holding you tight as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I told you, Bunny. I always get what I want. And I want you.”

Despite his playful tone, there was a gravity to his words, something that caused your heart to stutter. When you looked up, he caught your lips in another eager kiss, and you let him. You kissed him back, once again losing yourself in the fantasy that this could be something more than what it was, that this could be real.

Then, he was gone, leaving you with the unspoken promise that this thing between you was far from over.

You didn’t sleep that night, laying in bed, tossing and turning, trying to get the thought of him from your mind. The only thing that helped was your vibrator, though once you’d made yourself come, you were right back at square one, trying to figure out what the fuck you were going to do.

Fortunately, when you turned up at Anvil the next morning, you were happy to find an email from Mr Russo telling you that he’d be out of office all day, meaning that you could work in peace.

On your way home, you found yourself heading towards the Rockefeller Center, stopping on the way to grab a coffee. You snuggled into your thick coat, occasionally glancing up at the sky, idly wondering if it was going to snow over Christmas.

When you reached the rink, you slowly made your way through the crowd, enjoying getting lost in the hustle and bustle until you saw a familiar face across the ice.

Billy Russo.

It didn’t click straight away - all you could think about was why would you boss be there - but when he reached up to brush back his hair and covered the top half of his face for a split second, the familiarity hit you like a brick.

It was him.

Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome was Billy Russo.

A/N : I hate being ill so much... 0/10 do not recommend (though it did give me time to finally start playing Black Ops 6 which I do recommend). Anyway hopefully I managed to get most of the dumb typos in this one. I know this story probably seems a bit faster than most of my fics but since this is only going to be three parts (or four if I get carried away) I didn't want to spend a lot of time on slow burn or b-plots. Plus it's a Christmas story and I want to finish it while it's still seasonal . Any way, I hope you're all having fun with this one because I certainly am.

Thanks for reading, hope you all have a great week (enjoy new years and stay safe!!)

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @dreadfulxives18 @shwnirwin

@ladyblacky @spitecrow @oliviaewl @snowkestrel @benbarnesprettygurl

[folkloreofyennefer]

Ben Barnes in "Nevermind"

It was never mine, so nevermind Nevermind

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello my dear! So excited for Kinkfest! Could I please request praise kink & size kink with Mr. Sex-On-Legs himself, Billy Russo? 😍

Thank you so much for requesting, everyone seems to like size kink with this man!

Masterlist

A soft touch

Contains: Protective Billy, violence, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, P in V, fluff.

1.3K words

Billy is very gentle and sweet, at least with you he is.

Billy was so proud, the charity auction you had put on for Curt's group had raked in more than enough to keep the doors open and butts in seats for months to come. To make matters even better, he got to stick to the rich assholes who acted like donating a few bucks on their out of the Anvil office was saving humanity.

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulders as he whispered into your ear. "You did good tonight gorgeous."

You craned your head and kissed him, and his fingertips grazed your cheek as he spun around to pull you close. "You wanna get out of here?"

Billy grinned. "Fuck yeah."

He took her hand and led you outside, but before he could open the car a shout stopped you both in your tracks. "Hey, baby why don't you leave the pretty boy and have some fun with me?"

Billy went stiff as a board, placing you behind him so he could stand between you and the yelling man. "Billy, let's just go."

You didn't have time, the man was already swagging over, his drunk gate wobbling as he walked. You wrapped your hand around his upper arm and tried to pull him, but it made no difference. "You should listen to your girl buddy, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself getting into a fight you can't win."

You tended to forget how tall Billy really was, how imposing his height could be with just a change in his mood because he never gave you a reason to notice it. "Go the fuck home, I won't ask again."

Damn alcohol and its effects because all the man did was laugh and rear his fist back. Billy didn't even need to think to stop it, he just dropped the man with one punch. He watched the man get up and hobble away, ignoring the string of obscenities that came from his mouth. He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the car door and helped you inside. "Sorry about that gorgeous."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, looking over his bruised knuckles as he smiled down at you. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Yep, that guy was nothing."

He pushed your door closed and climbed into the driver's seat, kicking the car over as his hand found your tight. "Let's go home."

****

Billy placed his folded suit jacket over the chair back and cleaned his bruised hand in the sink before walking behind you and unzipping your dress. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You nodded. "Twice."

He kissed a path from shoulder to shoulder across your upper back, ending up kissing a line from shoulder dome to neck until his lips were at your ear. "Then let me tell you again, you look beautiful."

Your dress fell to the floor, and he walked in front of you, stretching his hand out for you to take so you could step out of the pile. He walked you to the edge of the bed and paused, his eyes moving up and down your body to take in the lacy set of lingerie. "I'm am the luckiest man on the planet."

You unbuttoned his dress shirt as he slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, licking his lips at the newly revealed skin when it hit the floor. He stilled for a moment, his fingers drifting down your chest until his thumb was circling a nipple with the softness of freshly fallen snow, and then the air caught, and his lips slammed into yours. There was a rush to shed the rest of your clothes, and then you were scurrying up the bed with Billy hovering over you.

He was rock hard, his long, thick cock standing attention as the tip leaked with his arousal. His lips were on yours again, all lust and heat and his massive hands grabbed at whatever flesh he could reach. It was hard to know where to touch, there was just so much of him that it left you spoiled for choice. His back rippled under your hands as you dug your nails into his skin when his lips sealed around a nipple, your head falling back into the pillows as heat filled you.

The other one got the same treatment and soon enough, he was pressing kissing all over your abdomen on his way further down. He lifted your legs over his shoulder and kissed every inch of your thighs that he could reach before looking up at you through his long eyelashes. "Can I?"

"Yes please."

You loved the way he held you when he did this, his forearm thrown over your hips, keeping you still while he licked at you like he wanted to win some prize and the other holding your thigh, his fingers pressing into the skin in indistinct patterns like he was typing out a code. A gasp caught in your throat as the hand on your thigh moved towards your centre, his fingers slipping under his lips as he slid them inside you.

His thumb replaced his mouth, and he looked up at you with a soft smile. "Does that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Yes." His lips were back on you as he stroked your G-spot with his calloused fingertips as you wove your hands into his hair. Pleasure zipped up your spine with each pass of his tongue and curl of his fingers and you yanked his hair as he moaned against you. "Billy.." He groaned an affirmative, and you held him to you as you came, him riding the wave with you until your hips stilled against the bed.

He pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand before kissing a line up your body to your lips. He took your face in his face, resting his forehead against yours and smiled. "You're so good for me." You spread your legs and he settled between them, gripping his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit. "Can I?"

"Yes please." He didn't leave you waiting, sliding home with a grunt as he hiked your legs over his waist with one hand.

He buried his face in your neck as he started to rock his hips, his voice tight with pleasure as he spoke. "My good girl, I love you so much."

He shifted angles to hit your G-spot as he picked up sped, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to suck at your neck as he ran one hand downwards, between your bodies to rub your clit. His lips broke away from your flesh so he could gaze into your eyes, his face filled with affection as he watched your expression fill with pleasure. "Can you give me another one?"

You gasped and nodded with each hitch of his lips, and he smiled. "I know you can." Your nails dug into his back as the edge approached and he kissed you again, nibbling your lower lip as he pushed you into a spine snapping orgasm. "Good girl."

He shifted again, putting his weight onto his hands as he chased his high. With one last thrust, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he kissed you softly. He rolled off you, moving onto his back to take you with him so your head rested on his chest. "Thank you gorgeous girl."

You sighed. "I should be thanking you."

He smirked and pressed his lips to your temple. "No, you have no idea how much I love you."

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his firm chest. "I do, and I love you too."

He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. "I'll run you a bath in a bit, I just want to hold you a little longer."

You laid your face on his cheek, and his eye fluttered closed. "I like the sound of that."

Fin

[fluffyprettykitty]

My sweet selene, my darling, I have missed your writing so very much. So here I am asking that you bring this conversation we once had to life.

How do we feel about book store date with Billy, followed by cockwarming, and he make her read one of the books to him. And she can't come until she finishes a chapter. The extent of the smut and other kinks is your choice, I trust you with my heart.

Besitos

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

Word Count: ~500 words

Warnings: cockwarming, teasing

Author’s Note: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii lia ilysm, we can still pretend it's spring and i did these on time hello! i'll write the rest too i promise <3

PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist

Billy was always the determined type so when he picked you up from work and took you to the bookstore to pick whatever you wanted you knew that a simple gift wasn't enough for him.

You browsed through the sections and ended up lingering on the classics sections. He instructed you to pick five books and so you did. You placed them in his hands and waited outside by the car for him. Once out he took you to a restaurant for some late lunch/early dinner and then you were off to his place.

He lived in a luxury apartment in upstate New York and one of your favourite things to do was just to stare outside at the big city skylines. He seemed to be doing some work while you were sitting on the couch freshly showered wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of the books you picked.

He came by with a smirk on his face as he watched you. The tall man observed you for a bit before he came closer and instructed you on his lap cuddling you, soon enough the cuddling turned to more, Billy not really keeping his hands to himself.

Next thing you know he has you rubbing yourself against his clothed hard-on while he's listening to your reading aloud. He fumbles with his belt and pants until he frees his cock and pushes your panties to the side sliding it right in. The sun had long been set as he looked up at you with a smile.

"Read for me..." He whispered, his lips digging into your neck, struggling to hold on to your book.

"Billy...." You breathed out feeling him occupying your walls so deliciously, you hadn't seen him for three days and you were getting needy yourself.

"Read." He said again before biting your neck. You groaned as you placed the book against the back of the couch and continued reading aloud.

He continued kissing and teasing your neck, loving and feeling the vibrations of your voice chords as he wrapped his hands tightly on your waist not allowing you to go anywhere.

You came to a halt as the pleasure was getting a little too much for you but he only tilted his head to scold you.

"Don't stop until you finish your chapter."

"There are no chapters in this book!" You protested cursing the days you chose this particular book.

"Sucks for you." He chuckled and kissed you again on your neck possesively. "I wanna know how this plays out." You groaned louder as you continued reading aloud.

You were in for a long night.

A very long night.

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

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 7)

Pairing: Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, excessive drinking, smut, Omegaverse canon possessiveness

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

Standing in the doorway of your bedroom, you stare at the empty spaces that were once filled with Frank’s things. His nightstand held only the lamp. His side of the closet and space in the chest of drawers were empty. In the bathroom, his toothbrush was gone and that was the stupid thing that broke the dam. You let the tears fall as you strip the bed. You had to get his smell out of your sheets or you’d never make it through this. Frank was gone. He was always going to leave. Now, you have to suck it up and deal with it. 

Gathering up the things you would need to see you through proved fairly easy. You kept supplies in stock just in case. You pulled out your favorite comfortable clothes. As you grabbed them out of your dresser, a flash of white caught your eye and you picked up the folded note from Billy. You reread his message and your heart aches. If only his protestations could be true of an Alpha. You don’t think you’ve ever been as attracted to someone in your life. Dropping the note on the top of the dresser, you continue your preparations. Pulling fresh sheets out of the closet, you start to make up your bed but as you move pillows and smooth wrinkles you pick up Frank’s scent with each motion. Your stomach rolls and you throw the pillow in frustration. 

Your mind drifted to the other bedroom and the bed covered in Billy’s scent. A throbbing begins between your legs at the thought of being with him during your heat. Would he be gentle or rough? Would he act feral or reverent? Or would he be a mix off all of it? 

Resolutely, you gather your things and move to the other bedroom. At least having his scent surrounding you would bring you some comfort. You place your things around and throw extra blankets on the bed, building yourself a nest. Laying down, you breathe deeply and feel your inner Omega calm as his scent envelopes you. It’s so strong you could swear he scented the sheets purposely. 

Several hours later, a knock on the front door rouses you from the semi-comfort you had found in the bed. Before you could even manage to untable yourself, Cecily calls out, “Hiya. I used my key. Don’t get up! I brought you some extra supplies.” After a few moments you hear her in the other bedroom, “Where are you?”

“In here,” you call, settling back in. 

Cecily comes through the bathroom between the rooms, “Are you okay? Why are you in here?”

“I… Frank’s scent is on everything in there,” you shrug. 

“Gotcha. Has it started?” she asks, referring to your heat. 

“It’s not too bad yet. I’ll be fine.”

“It smells like Billy in here,” Cecily sniffs. 

You just shrug again, “What did you bring?”

“Oh, I left it on the other bed. Hang on,” she turns back. 

When several minutes pass without her returning, you call out, “Cec? Did you get lost?”

“Uh, no. Coming,” she reappears with a large bag filled with snacks, drinks, and some self-care supplies. 

“This was really nice of you,” you give her a small smile. 

“Well, ya know, I owe you one… or two,” Cecily smirks. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you shake your head. “We both said things we regret.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Cecily says as a slow grin spreads across her face.

“Robbie and Jordan?” You ask, propping yourself on your elbows to stare at her. 

“They’re really good guys and they told me about them and, ya know, intrigued me. So, we’re going on a date next week.”

Knowing Cecily is not usually one to take things slowly, you narrow your eyes at her, “Why next week?”

“I wanted to wait until your heat is done. I mean, someone has to run the bar and…”

“And what?”

“It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other a little. Maybe develop something that isn’t just attraction. Forming a pack, I don’t think they’ll care much that my parents are Betas,” Cecily shrugs to play off the vulnerability she had just displayed. 

“I think that's a great idea. If you can handle working together at the bar, you can probably handle a relationship- ow!” You wince as cramps hit you. Your body is protesting the lack of male attention. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Are you okay if I go back to work?” Cecily eyes you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll get through this and see you in a few days. Don’t worry about me,” you insist. 

“I will. I’ll check in on you tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything,” she smiles as she heads to the door. 

“Cec?”

“Yeah?” She looks back to the door. 

“I’m glad we made up.” 

“Well, ya know we can’t live without each other. You’re my person,” Cecily blows a kiss as she leaves. 

You smile but grimace when the cramps hit again. You reached for some pain reliever. It would help some. At least, for a little while. 

–

You woke up the following morning, groggy and grumpy. Sleep had only come the night before after another round of pain relievers and a handful of melatonin gummies. It had been filled with a mix of unsettling dreams and intense yearning that made your body scream for touch. Getting out of the bed, you head straight for the shower. Sometimes letting the water run over your body can give momentary relief. You stood under the spray until the water cooled too much for comfort and your stomach was grumbling for food. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you walk back into the bedroom and nearly scream. 

“Hello Gorgeous,” Billy smirks from the chair in the corner of the room. 

You stare at him for several seconds, bewildered at his appearance but then your inner Omega took over and you crossed the room in only a few strides. You ignore the tray of food and the bouquet of flowers next to him and reach for him. Dragging him to his feet by his shirt, you pull him against you and meld your mouth to his. You begin undoing his belt but his hands cover yours and he breaks the kiss. 

“Should-”

“I swear to God, Billy. If you don’t fuck me right now, I will never let you touch me again,” You seethe. When it looks like he’s about to speak again, you drop the towel you’re wearing. “Now,” the word comes out hard but then you put a sweet pleading into his designation, “Alpha.”

His mouth takes yours hungrily as he pushes you towards the bed. His shirt is discarded quickly, and his pants are undone in a blink. It’s your hands that push them past his ass as he positions himself between your legs. He takes no preamble, knowing your heat is in full swing and you are more than ready. The thick head of his cock breaches your entrance and he growls as you seem to pull him in. Your body arches into him, finally having an Alpha inside of you puts you into a haze and all you can do is beg for more.

“Please, Alpha, more!” You whine. 

“I’m gonna give it all to you, my sweet Omega. Fill you up and fuck you out until you can’t tell where you end and I begin,” Billy says as he steadily presses in. 

“Yes, fuck,” your voice melds into whimpers as he begins long strokes. You wrap your arms and legs around him, pressing him close as he fills you just how you need. Billy holds himself above you on his elbows and his hands reach to caress your face. 

“Look at me, ‘Mega,” he commands and your eyes fly open. “Look at your Alpha. I will always be here for you when you need me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“Good girl,” he whispers as his hips pick up pace. Your mouth falls open as you feel your orgasm building. Billy watches your face enraptured. He doesn’t relent, pounding into you at just the right angle until you scream, all the pent up frustration and need releasing from you. Your body is wracked with spasm and after spasm as Billy finds his own end. When his knot locks into place inside you he smiles as your eyes roll back in your head and you arch again. He lowers his face to your neck and noses at your mating gland, filling his lungs with your scent. 

His cock jumps inside you when you do the same to him and again when you deliver a tiny kitten lick over it. “Fuuuck,” he groans. 

You pull away when he speaks but his big hand guides you right back. 

“Don’t stop, Gorgeous. Want your scent all over me,” Billy mouths at your gland, fighting his urge to bite down and claim you as his own. But he couldn’t resist scraping his teeth over it to see if it had the same effect it had on you when he did it to you that one night in the living room, and it did. You gasped and clenched around his cock. Encouraged, he did it again and then sucked on it. 

“Oh, oh, fuck, Billy!” Your whole body spasmed again. Your cunt clamped down on his still swollen knot inside you making Billy moan. 

Billy chuckles as he whispers in your ear, “So, when my knot goes down, would you like to do this again or eat and then do this again?”

“Can’t I eat while I sit on your cock?” You whimper. 

“Fuck, I love the way you think,” Billy maneuvers the two of you to the side of the bed and reaches for a cube of watermelon from the tray he had made. Holding it to your lips, he watches as you take the bite and then lick his finger of the remaining juice. He stares at you, admiration clear in his eyes, “How the fuck are you so perfect?”

“I’m not, remember? I’m wrecked,” you shrug. 

“And I’m broken. Guess that’s what makes us so goddamn perfect for each other,” Billy whispers intensely. 

“Maybe so,” you whisper with a small smile. You enjoyed hearing it and decided to just play into it. Play into this feeling that this was someone who wanted you, not despite your inability, but as part of the whole package. He fed you, bite by bite. Compliments and innuendo flowed through your quiet conversation. When you feel his knot release, you take the final bite from him and then flip him onto his back. 

“You haven’t finished your food,” Billy smirks. 

“I’ve had enough for now. I need this more,” you moan as you begin moving your hips. 

“No complaints here,” Billy grabs your hips as he thrusts up into you. He wants to watch your face every second, but gets distracted by the bounce of your tits, the sight of his cock splitting you open, the ways his fingers dig perfectly into your hips and thighs as you ride him, and his mouth runs as he expounds on how amazing you are. “Jesus, you feel good. Do you know how good your pussy looks swallowing my cock? So fucking beautiful. Yeah, that’s it, make that gorgeous face. Wanna see you come, give it to me. Fucking hell, I’m- fuck,shit-” Billy’s eyes suddenly go wide and he grunts harshly. 

You stop, staring at him with wide eyes, “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

“Present,” Billy growls the Alpha command, his eyes darkening.

You comply immediately, lifting off of him and presenting yourself on all fours. You whimper, unsure of what is happening, “Alpha?”

“Mine,” Billy grabs your hips and slams into you making you arch at the pleasure. 

“Billy?” You whine his name as both an exclamation and a question. 

“I’m- fuck, rut kicked in,” he says the words as if it takes all of his control to get them out. His hips don’t slow the steady pounding he’s giving you. “Never… ah, fuck, you feel good. Never been with an Omega in heat before.”

“Were you, ah, were you expecting it?” You ask, curiously. Your fingers dig into the sheets beneath you in an attempt to hold yourself steady for him. 

“No, shouldn’t be happening. Fuck, I’m never gonna be able to stop fucking you. Do you know how good this fucking cunt is? Never gonna find another pussy this good.”

“Alpha,” you whimper as your orgasm builds. You weren’t sure if it was the relentless motion of his cock inside of you or the words that spilled from his mouth. 

“That’s right. I’m your Alpha. Come here,” Billy pulls you up so that you’re kneeling together as he keeps fucking into you. One hand grasps for your breasts and the other finds your clit to make circles. He buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your mating gland, licking, sucking, and scraping it with his teeth. He had to fight the base urge to bite down, to claim you as his, to take possession of what was already his in his mind, but he wanted you to choose it. He wanted you to ask for it. And he wasn’t going to stop fucking you until you did. 

You reach behind yourself to pull his face more firmly against your neck, “Billy! Alpha, it’s so good. I’m gonna-” The long moan you release as you clench around him is enough to send Billy over the edge. He could swear as his knot locked in place again that he saw stars. The pleasure of your body wrapped around his was so intense he had to fight every Alpha urge telling him to hold you down and mark you. Instead, he gently laid you both or your sides and moved his lips to your shoulder to help fight the intense urges coursing through him. 

After your heart stops beating so hard, you whisper, “I’ve never been with an Alpha in rut.” 

Billy’s chest rumbles against your back, “Couple of virgins before today, huh?”

You bark a laugh and cuddle against him more firmly. Billy breathes deeply of your scent as his fingers trail over every inch of your skin he can reach. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand his fucking idiot best friend. How the hell had he managed to keep himself together with you on his cock? He’d never gone into rut the entire time he was here? His friend was insane. Or so self-possessed with rage and revenge, he couldn’t see the perfection right in front of him. Billy’s actually glad his friend led him to you and he sure as hell was never giving you back. Without realizing it, he growls out, “Mine.”

“Possessive, aren’t we?” You tease him.

“Mmm,” Billy shrugs as his lips keep moving over your skin. 

With the haze of heat lifting a bit now that you had been knotted… a few times, the questions that should have flooded your mind seeing him in your cabin came to the surface. You had to ask, “Billy?”

“Yeah, gorgeous?”

“Why are you here? I mean, why did you come back? Did you know-”

“Cecily called me,” Billy cuts you off. 

“What? How?”

“She said she was dropping off some supplies and found my note-”

“That’s what took her so long in the other room,” you say as that piece clicks into place. 

“She told me that you two had made up, Frank had left, and that you needed help. Or more accurately, to get my ass here cause you needed me or she would ensure my life would be a living hell from now on. Not that I needed any convincing. I drove straight here, used the spare key, and laid in wait for you again,” he laughs lightly as he uses the words you had thrown at him his last night at the cabin. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“I’ll always be here for you when you need me,” he assures. “My turn for a question. Why are you in this room and not yours?”

“Frank-” you pause as Billy pulls you more firmly against him and growls at the mention of another Alpha. You smile as you continue, “His scent was everywhere and I didn’t want that smell around me while I was dealing with my heat. So, I came in here since…” you trail off. 

“Since what?” Billy prompts.

“Your scent made me feel comforted. Like I wasn’t completely alone,” you confess quietly. 

He chuckles as he admits, “I guess it was a good thing that I scented these sheets.”

You laugh, “I knew you did that! You are diabolical.” His knot releases and you take the opportunity to turn over and face him. As you looked into the dark depths of his eyes, you lost your train of thought, the questions that had flooded your mind, your worries, all of it faded away and instead you basked in his admiration. He looked at you with a mix of awe and hunger that you had never experienced and you loved it. Your mind wanted to use the word love to describe the feelings coursing through you and you shook your head to rid it of that thought. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You hedge. 

“You jerked your head. Intrusive thought?” His long fingers caress your face. 

“Something like that. Are you hungry?” 

“In more ways than one,” he smirks before whispering in your ear, “I still want to find out how amazing you taste. Get my mouth all over that sweet Omega cunt. I want to drown in your scent. Have you sit on my face and let me tongue fuck you until you beg for my knot. Have your legs spread wide open as I lay between them and make you come over and over again. If I’m really lucky maybe I can get you to suck my cock while you sit on my face. God, there are so many things I want to do to you.”

“Maybe we should start a list,” you giggle. 

“Mmhm, but for now why don’t we go make some food?” Billy kisses you before you can answer and then pulls you out of the bed with him. 

–

The next two days were more of the same. Lots of conversations and even more sex, with meals and showers and sleep in between. Billy, you had learned, had a thing for shower sex and so you were happily enjoying him pounding into you as water streamed over both your bodies. 

“Oh, God, just like that,” you whimper. 

“I have a new item for the list,” Billy says as he lifts your leg higher to give him a deeper angle. 

“It’s going to take us years to finish this list at this point,” you laugh in between the moans he pulled from you. 

“Need to add fucking you in a bathtub. I’d get you to sit on my cock while we relax in a tub full of bubbles. I’d play with your clit so you’d come over and over again so I can feel you clenching around me. Make you come until you were absolutely overstimulated then dry you off, put you in bed, and fuck you one more time until you’re ready to pass out. Fuck, I’m just gonna keep adding to it so I have more excuses to fuck you,” he growls.

“It’s not enough that you’re balls deep in me right now, you have to run your mouth about all the other things you’re going to do to me,” you tease him. 

“Is that a problem, gorgeous? Should I stop telling you about all the ways I want to fuck you?” 

“Never, fuck!” You cry out as he begins pounding harder. 

“That’s right, Omega. You like hearing all the dirty thoughts I have about you. Fuck, all I’ve done is think about ways to fuck you since you served me that first drink. I wanted to bend you over the bar right there. I should. Take you to the bar and fuck you on it, on that pool table, on the safe, fuuuuuck,” he grunted as you clenched around him, nearing you orgasm. 

“You should. Maybe fuck me in that fancy car of yours in the parking lot, too.”

“Oh, yeah? What else should I do to you, my Omega?” Billy’s hips are pumping into you perfectly. 

“Lay me out naked on your desk at Anvil and fuck me until I scream your name,” you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck!” He roars as he begins pounding into you relentlessly. 

“Yes, yes. Alpha!” You cry out as you come.

“Never gonna get enough of you,” Billy groans as he loses himself in you. His knot locks into place and you shudder against him. His face is buried in your neck as he scents you. The urge to bite you, to mark you, to claim you as his own grew stronger each time your sweet body clamped down on his. 

A little while later, you were laying wrapped together and Billy looked at you as if some question was on his mind. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You query. 

“I don’t know if I should ask. It might upset you,” he hedges. 

“I can’t promise it won’t but I’ll do my best to answer it.”

Billy takes a long look into your eyes, studying you, before asking, “Why do you stay here?”

“Here as in the town?” You clarify. 

“Yes.”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same thing lately. Buying the bar shoehorned me into a place of… I don’t know the right word. Importance, maybe? It forced the town to see me as something other than the wrecked Omega. I’m the owner of the bar, I have a place in society, even if I did have to buy it. Lately, I’ve wondered what it would be like to go somewhere that I’m not the wreck, not the Omega whose family doesn't even want her. I guess because I’m scared. This place is all I’ve ever known and what if nothing changed?”

“New York is a big city. No one would question why you’d leave small town life for the big city. Especially if you were with me,” Billy comments.

You laugh lightly as you joke, “Are you asking me to move in?”

Billy caresses your jawline as he answers, “Yes.”

You scoff, “Billy-”

“I love you. I know it’s fast and you’re going to say that this is my rut or your heat talking but it’s not. The moment my eyes met yours, the first moment I caught your scent, every second I’ve been near you, I’ve felt it. And every minute after I left, I missed you. To me, you’re perfect and I love you,” he stares into you, waiting for your response.

You look at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was going to laugh and say he was kidding, or roll his eyes and call you stupid for believing him, or you'll wake up because this couldn’t be happening, a perfect Alpha wanting the wrecked Omega.

“Stop it. I see the wheels turning in that beautiful head. I told you that if you’re wrecked, then I’m broken, and that makes us perfect for each other. Do you believe me?” Billy whispers earnestly. 

You nod, scared that if you spoke you’d lose your composure. Instead, you press your lips to his and kiss him slowly. Pouring out all of your emotions into that kiss, you pull him closer. He rolls you under him and deepens the kiss while keeping a sensual pace. He settles easily between your legs and you writhe against each other as passion builds. You open your legs wider until his cock nudges at your entrance. With a gentle motion of his hips, he slips inside and you moan into his mouth. As his strokes build steam, your mouths part for you to cry out on a particularly deep stroke. Billy’s lips wander to your neck and you whimper, “Billy, I love you, too. I love you, my Alpha. Please.” 

“Look at me,” Billy requests. When you do, he kisses you and pulls back to look into your eyes. “Say it again.” 

It was a request, not a command and you complied immediately, “I love you, too.”

Billy kisses you again and then trails his lips to your mating gland. He nuzzles into it and you tilt your head to give him better access. When his teeth graze over it, your breath hitches and you whine, “Please, Alpha!”

“Say the words,” Billy urges without Alpha command in his voice. 

“Mark me. Claim me, please,” you beg.

“That’s my Omega. My Omega,” Billy whispers reverently as he bites down on your gland. 

Your entire body spasms with your orgasm. You pull Billy even tighter against you as he licks away the blood from your mark. He fucks you through the orgasm, his eyes trained on the fresh red claim on your neck as he does. When you come back to yourself, he reminds you, “Your turn, My Omega. Claim your Alpha. Mark me.” 

He guides your lips to his mating gland and tears seep from your eyes with the realization that he wants this as much as you do. You place a soft kiss on the spot and then bare your teeth and bite down. His exclamation and jerk of his hips as he comes inside you makes you clench around him. Just as you feel his knot lock into place, you feel the bond do the same. Emotion floods you as you realize you are feeling his joy and pleasure through your bond. When he pulls back to look into your eyes, you can feel the love you share tie together inside of you. It was unlike anything you had ever imagined and you couldn’t stop the tears that came. 

“I feel it, too,” Billy whispers as he kisses away the tears. “My Omega. My gorgeous Omega.”

Epilogue: Six Months Later

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[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.

[marvelmusing]

Misbehaviour

Pairing: Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Billy takes you to one of his favourite restaurants, but you can’t seem to behave how he wants you to.

Warnings [18+]: smut vibes, dom!Billy, sub!reader, mentions of spanking in public, reader flashes him under the table, the restaurant is 100% a discrete kink club

My Masterlist

As the group in front of you finishes speaking with the hostess and starts to be led into the restaurant by a waiter, you begin to step forward, only to be stopped by your boyfriend.

Billy snakes an arm around your waist, slipping a hand between your legs, his fingers curling to press against the seam of your cunt. Through the fabric of your dress, the heel of his palm presses firmly against your clit and you writhe instantly.

Humiliation burns over your cheeks as you attempt to close your coat to keep the position of his hand out of sight. His words are low, murmured against your ear.

“If you misbehave in this nice restaurant, full of respectable people, you’re in for a spanking that’ll make your ass cheeks hot enough to fry eggs.” Embarrassment and arousal warms your body. His lips brush against your hairline as he grins, thoroughly pleased with himself, “Sunny side up, just the way I like ’em.”

He is painfully handsome like this, sure of himself, hair styled perfectly, his facial hair thicker than usual, just touching the edge of ruggedness. It makes your mouth water.

“Go on, baby.” He releases you, giving your ass a small tap with his hand to encourage you forwards, smiling when your legs teeter unsteadily. “Atta girl.”

Billy’s hand stays placed at the small of your back, directing you through the maze of tables as you follow the waiter. When you arrive at the small round table that is yours for the evening, you glance at Billy as he shrugs his coat off.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“No,” he answers smoothly, handing his coat to an attendant with a polite nod before he removes your coat as well, ignoring your pout.

“Please?”

“No.”

“But Bil-”

“Another word and I’ll make you sit on the floor.”

It’s a tempting thought, sitting at Billy’s feet with your chin in his lap, but your knees would have no protection and the floor looks rather uncomfortable.

He doesn’t look at you, even when you sit down in the seat opposite him, his eyes fixed on the menu with a confidence that makes you throb.

“Good girl.”

The food is exquisite. Billy does most of the talking which is fine by you, he’s a marvel to watch as he cuts his steak into measured pieces, swiping it through the sauce as he mentions a few upcoming galas he wants you to attend with him.

Seeing Billy like this makes you antsy, itching for something you can’t ask for here, though perhaps you could place the idea in his head for later on tonight.

“I’ve dropped my napkin,” you admit softly. He raises a brow at you. “Could you reach it for me?”

He nudges his chair back slightly, shifting his attention down towards the floor.

As he ducks beneath the tablecloth, you slide the skirt of your dress upwards, spreading your legs wide to give him an unobstructed view of your naked cunt. His hand on the table curls into a fist, knuckles white with the sudden pressure.

The moment he lifts his head back up, his eyes lock onto yours, dark and dangerous. A shudder runs down your spine, goosebumps prickling over your skin. He sits up, rolling his shoulder lightly as he tucks his chair back in.

“What did I tell you about misbehaving?”

His question makes you shift in your seat, eyes bouncing over the contents of the table to avoid his gaze.

“Not to,” you concede, swinging your legs to relieve some nervous energy. He nods slowly.

“Would you like your spanking before or after dessert?”

There’s a pause as you take a moment to consider your options. Hopefully after your punishment, Billy will let you sit in his lap and feed you some dessert. That thought alone is what helps you decide on an answer.

“Before.”

He nods again.

Anticipation thrums under your skin as he gestures to an attendant, asking them to take your empty plates. Billy picks up the candle sitting between you, blowing out the flame with a harsh puff. When he catches your eye, noticing the frown on your face, he grins.

He begins to move the glass candle holder and rest of the table’s contents over to one side. There’s a nervous edge to your voice as you say,

“Billy?”

His gaze is direct.

“Do you trust me?”

Eyes bouncing between each of his, in awe of the casual dominance on display as he regards you seriously, and you nod instantly.

“Yes.”

“Stand up.” The frown on your face deepens as he nods at the table, pristine white linen spread over the surface. “Now bend over the table.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

Billy Russo Tag List: @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[maraudereestauderelb]

Waiting to be loved

Part XII

A Billy Russo Fanfiction

Taglist: @dyingformyships@jugheadjonss @rockintensse @thesandbeneathmytoes @fav-fan-fic @vcneficae @flcs @lainey-lane

Masterlist

Part I Part II Part III  Part IV  Part V  Part VI Part VII  Part VIII  Part IX Part X Part XI

About a week later on the night of their scadueled dinner, Y/N was sitting in front of her vanity and just finished up getting ready. 

Her hair looked big and volumous and for her dress she had chosen a black option which was just a little more revealing than her usual outfits, but still classy. She knew Billy was taking her to one of the fanciest restaurants in town so she wanted to look that part. It was usual for her to put thought and effort into her appearance but tonight she wanted to look extra special 

Was it a proper date? They often went out for dinner or ordered food after late working hours but when he had told her where exatly they were going, it had caught her off guard. That place was definitely a little too fancy to take you assistant/affair, even if it was to celebrate a successful deal. She knew the training with the FBI had gone well and the option for further deals was very much still on the table. 

Billy had worked so hard to get his company to where they were now, he deserved a nice evening of celebrating his work and also himself. And Y/N wanted to play her part acceptionally. 

The dress was classy and showed off just enough, but her 6-inch heels would add the last bit of umpf the outfit needed. That and the red YSL lipstick ahe planned on wearing. 

So was it a date? Did she want it to be a date? It would be a lie if she said she wasn't totally infatuated by this man, but he was still her boss... maybe she was getting her hopes up a little... 

Her hair and outfit were already perfect when she curled her eyeslashes as one of the last steps of her routine, but was suddenly interupted by Claire who swung the door to her room wide open. 

"Have you seen Evie's Elsa-Tonie-Figure - Oh, looks like someone's got a date!" 

Y/N couldn't hide the grin that was appearing on her lips. "Maybe." 

"Good!", Claire cheared and sat down on the corner of her best friend's bed: "I can't remember the last time you had one! But it'll be good for you." 

"How's that?" 

"With another man in your life, maybe you'll start to set healthy boundaries with your boss when it comes to working hours or work load", she said with a mocking smile, at the same time Y/N knew she was absolutely serious. If only she knew... 

"Ha. Ha. When was the last time, you've been on a date? Would probably be good for you too." 

"No...it's too soon... is he handsome? I bet he is!" 

"Oh yes", she answered: "Gorgeous." 

"Can I see a picture of him?", she already jumped off the bed but Y/N quickly protested: "N-no! ...uh I mean not yet. Let's see how it goes first." 

"Okay, okay, little kill joy", her friend answered with a wink: "I'll let you get ready then. BUT I demand a detailed break down of your deate when you get back." 

With these words she left the room again. 

Y/N still hadn't told her about the affair, she knew she wouldn't like it and she wasn't ready for that lecture yet. 

Just when Y/N grabbed for her lipstick, her phone lit, to signal she had received a message. 

It was Billy. 

"I'm stuck at work. Can't make it." 

Was he serious? He was supposed to be here in 10 minutes! 

Her heart sank. He had to be kidding. 

But clearly he wasn't. Angrily she slammed the phone down on her vanity. It had taken her hours to get ready and he dropped her just like that! Without an apology! 

Hours of getting ready for nothing. Oh no. It had taken her so long, she at least needed him to see it. Even if only on screen. 

Y/N finished up the lipstick and looked in the mirror with confidence. She looked stunning and it was entirely his loss. 

Quickly she took a photo (or rather a few and chose the very best) and send it to her boss with the caption: "Just wanted to let you know, what you're missing out on." 

It only took a second before she saw he was already typing an answer. 

"Please don't make this any harder, gorgeous. You look like an absolute dream. I'd love to see you like. And I'd love to take off this dress even more." 

She knew. It was nice to hear it from him, but she knew. So she put her phone down again without a reply, crossed her arms and pouted. 

After minute she got another message: "Are you angry?" 

Of course she was! He had bailed on her the very last second! 

Finally she got up and took off her dress to switch it for something more comfortable. His message remained unanswered and she decided to leave her phone in her room before he could say anything else. 

Was she gonna start a fight with her boss? No. But if she answered she knew this was what it was goning to turn into. No matter if this had been a proper date or a business dinner, canceling last minute was shit. 

With an annoyed face expression the entered the living room where her best friend was colouring with Evie.  

"What-", Claire started with a puzzled face expression but Y/N cut her short: "Please don't ask." 

Realisation rushed over her face before she said: "Oh okay." 

"Sushi?" 

"Sushi, it is!" 

Concidering how annoyed Y/N had been, it had still been a nice eveing in the end. Altough Y/N had remained angry. Whoever that guy was, who had cancelled on her, didn't deserve her time of day, Claire had said. And Y/N knew she was right, but of course Claire didn't know she had to sit in front of that guys office on Monday again. 

Evie had fallen a sleep a while ago and the two friends just finished cleaning the plates and snack bowls up, when it knocked on their apartment door. 

"Who could that be? It's almost 11 o'clock." 

"I'll go and check", Y/N decided and walked over to the door. Of course she checked the peep hole first and to her surprize saw no other than Billy Russo. 

An annoyed sigh left her lips and she contemplated not opening but the part of her, that was still happy to see him won. 

She opened the door just enough to stand in to doorframe and greeted him with a cold - not angry yet: "It's already late." 

"Don't be angry, please." 

God, Claire definitely shouldn't hear this, so she decided to step into the hallway and left the door ajar. 

"I'm not." 

He was dressed way too casual for a work meeting and she realized the slight smell of cigarettes and beer that clung to his clothes. Where on earth had he been? 

"You didn't have to come here, really." 

"I had to see you." 

Her heart jumped. 

"I don't want you to be angry. I know, it was a dick move to cancel last minute, but I had to." 

"You're right. It was a dick move." 

A smirk appeared on his lips: "Did you just call your boss a dick?" 

"I simply didn’t disagree with my boss. " 

"Can I come in? ", Billy asked with a glimmer of hope and mischief in his eyes: "I’ll make it up to you, I promise. " 

Maybe somewhere along the way Y/N had finally found her pride or maybe it was because she was angry still but as tempting as his offer was, she couldn’t let him in. Not just because Claire was there. 

"I don’t think that’s a good idea... not tonight. " 

"Okay ", Billy sight: “Then let me cook for you tomorrow.” 

[i-wanna-write]

I loved you - Billy Russo x castlesister!reader

Prompt: Billy doesn’t want to die alone. You make sure he doesn’t.

Warnings: Some cuss words. Mentions of blood. ANGST!! All of it angst!

Disclaimer: I got this photo of Google.

Word count: 1518

A/N: not my longest but definitely my saddest if I do say so myself.

————————————————————————

“Hello?” The voice answers the phone.

“Curtis?” Billy croaks out. “Curt-Curtis.”

Billy is met with silence. He’s currently sprawled out on the floor, his back leaning against the wall. Everything hurts. His now healed scars. His head. The bullet wounds to his abdomen. His heart.

“I’m hurt.” Billy adds. “I’m hurt really bad.”

“Where are you?” Curtis questions.

“I’m bleeding all over your basement.” Billy says humorously, letting out a choked laugh.

His breaths are labored. The blood pooling in his lungs can almost be heard through the phone. He’s been in pain before, but nothing ever like this.

“I’m dying.” He reveals. “I’m dying Curt. Will you call Y/N?”

Silence is again heard. His shirt is drenched in blood and sweat. Growing up he was always a pretty boy. That notion caused him many nightmares and scars both physical and mental. But then he met you. His best friend's sister.

You saw behind his good looks and charm and loved him for it. Loved him for all his demons. For his sense of humor, his fierce protectiveness, and his loyal love. You loved him for all the good in him, despite all the bad

“P-promise me you-you won’t call the cops at least. Can you do that? Can you do that?” Billy begs, wincing again in pain.

“I promise I won’t call the cops.” Curtis vows.

“I know I probably don’t deserve it after what I’ve done.” Billy pauses. “But if you can find it in yourself to be a brother one last time, please, call Y/N. I don’t wanna die alone. I don’t -“

The pain cuts Billy off as it intensifies, the phone sliding down his chest as he can no longer hold it. He sits there, alone. He’s done, seen, and experienced so many things in his life. But all those decisions and experiences have led him to this movement - dying alone.

————————————————————

“Curtis?” You question as you answer your phone.

“The basement of the church. I’m giving you a 15 minute head start then I call Frank.”

The phone clicks off and all you hear after that is a dial tone. You’re filled with dread, knowing what the Curtis is talking about. You know why he wants you to go to the church. And you definitely know why he’s calling you before Frank.

Still filled with dread, you grab your gun and jacket before heading out your apartment door.

————————————————————

You walk down the stairs to the basement and enter it, freezing immediately at the sight in front of you.

Sitting on the ground with his back leaning against the wall is Billy Russo.

Otherwise known as the man you loved, and the man that is responsible for the murder of your brother's family.

His clothes are filthy and covered in blood. His face is pale, causing his most recent scars to be more prominent. You see his chest rise and fall in sharp breaths, his hands are over his abdomen where blood seems to be spilling out of.

“Billy?” You questions, walking toward the figure.

His head snaps towards you and your E/C matche with bloodshot.

“Y-Y/N.” Billy breathes out. “Curt called you. You’re here.”

You walk closer to him, many feelings rushing you. Concern. Sadness. This is a man you loved - and maybe still love - for so many years of your life. Who’s been by your side for everything you’ve been through. Seeing him hurt, this broken, makes you feel the same.

But you also feel anger. This man lied, betrayed, and broke you. He tried to murder your brother and it resulted in the death of your sister-in-law and niece and nephew. When you found out the truth, your heart was ripped out and you wanted vengeance - just like your brother.

Now you don’t know what you want.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You say, standing to his left side, sighing to yourself.

You take a seat beside him and press your hands over his bloody ones and pull them away. You see the source, a bullet wound with blood gushing out. You guide his hands back to where they were and let go.

“What the hell did you do Billy?” You question, pulling your hands away and and rising one cup his cheek, turning his face towards you.

“I’m dying sweetheart.” Billy states, his face grimacing in pain.

“I know.” You state, rubbing your finger over his cheek.

Billy’s breaths are coming out hard, his breath brushing onto your face.

“I didn’t wanna be alone.” He states, tears in his eyes.

You nod, swallowing a sob as tears enter your eyes.

“I’m here.” You tell him.

One of his bloodied hands comes up and rests over yours. You see the fear in his eyes. He's been alone his whole life but found solace in you and your brother. In your brother's family.

A family he’s responsible for the murder for.

“I fucked up.” Billy starts, eyes staring into yours. “I-I thought if I had more money, more success, you’d love me more. You’d never leave me. I couldn’t see that you never would have. I - I thought I could get away with it. That you wouldn’t find out what I did. And nothing I say can-“

“Billy.” You cut his rambling off as tears freely fall from your face. “Don’t think about that.”

You didn’t want to hear his reason behind it. How he thought you didn’t, couldn’t, love him enough. That he thought if he was richer, more successful, you’d finally accept it. You can’t reason how he couldn’t see that you accepted him from the moment you saw him.

It seems he was thinking of that moment too.

“I remember when I first saw you.” He says, his voice a whisper. “The gun range Frank brought me to. Your hair was pulled back, a black tank top, and camo pants with combat boots. But I didn’t see your beauty first. I saw you hit every target. 800m away and you were able to hit them like they were nothing.”

You remember that day. While Frank joined the marines, you joined the police force and eventually rose in the ranks, joining SWAT. You took pride in having your teams back and being a sharpshooter. You enjoyed the challenge of shooting a target, whether it be moving or far away.

“When you turned and I saw your face, I was done for. You looked nothing like Frankie’s ugly mug.”

You laugh at that statement through your tears because it was the truth. Despite being his full blooded younger sister, you looked nothing like Frank.

“And you looked nothing like a marine.” You state, hand letting his face go to run it over his hair. “Hair probably longer than regulation and dressed way too nice for a shooting range. But you proved me wrong, being the best damn sniper I’ve seen.”

“One thing you’re terrible at.” Billy couches out, laughing slightly.

“The guns just never liked me.” You state. Happy to see a smile on his face.

“I love you Y/N.” Billy suddenly whispers, the subject changed. “You showed me how to love myself. And I’m going to love you forever.”

You don’t have time to respond as a noise is heard towards the entrance of the basement. You both look up, Billy not knowing who will enter while you’ve been waiting for him.

Your brother walks in. Frank Castle. The Punisher. Dressed in jeans and boots donned with a light jacket over his shirt. His face is a dark black and blue, evidence of the day before’s previous fight.

You sigh. Knowing time is up. The man you loved has been gone since the day he planned to murder your brother. Since the day he caused your brother's family to be murdered. Left was an imposter. Someone who put on a façade and pretended everything was right and as it should be

You run your hand through his short hair one more time. You missed his long locks, how a piece would fall onto his forehead every now and again and you’d pull at it to tease him. You swallow and raise, walking over to your brother who now stands in front of Billy

“Frankie.” Billy says, laughter leaving him.

The laughs quickly become coughs, blood leaving his mouth.

Billy shakes his head, surprisingly showing laughter in his eyes. “You don’t look so good.”

Frank stares at Billy. Eyes full of hate. Hate towards the man that caused his sister so much heartache. Hate to the man who tried to kill him. Hate to the man who is responsible for his wife, his children’s, deaths.

“Of course it’s you.” Billy states. “I should’ve known.”

Frank doesn’t say a word. He reaches into the back of his jeans and pulls out his gun. Silencer on and now aimed, Frank glances at you, silently asking if there’s anything else you need to say or do.

“I loved you too.” You breathe out, a sob escaping you as tears rush down your face.

With that, Frank pulls the trigger.

[leascorner]

b.r. | Second thoughts

Summary:  Though you had prepared for this day, it still didn’t ease the terror slowly building in your stomach as you were slowly realizing that he was really in front of you. You didn’t know if he was here for you or only to get to Frank. In any case, there wasn’t any happy ending to expect. This was just going to end bad.

Pairing:  Billy Russo x ex!reader

Warnings: Mention of death, injuries, blood, gun, murder, toxic relationship, stalking, (major) angst, reader has no specific sex mentioned, I didn't really watched the Punisher so apologies for any inconsistency (hopefully I learned enough from all the fanfics lol).

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You had only come home after an endless work dinner.

Just like you had done a million times, you had placed your keys in your trinket bowl, had put away your shoes and bag before stepping into the rest of your apartment, so ready to go to bed.

This time though, you had not done three steps that your heart had made a sudden jump in your chest for no reason. Chills had run down your spine; all your body hair had straightened up, so straight it was actually painful.

An alarm rang into your head. Something was wrong.

Very, very, wrong.

It was obvious now, from the perfume lingering in the air - his perfume - that he was the reason all your senses were now in alert. Perhaps had he been there before you even got home. Or worse, perhaps was he still here, waiting for you.

Your phone was still in your bag, in your halfway, a few meters back. If he was still here - watching you, it would have been too suspicious for you to run back to it to call for help. So, you opted for a safer option in your mind: ignoring your gut feeling. You tried not to look alarmed while you went through your living room, purposely keeping the lights off. Thankfully, the full moon shining bright out of the living room windows was enough to make your way to your bedroom.

Without thinking, you opened one of your wardrobes and reached for the first clean pyjama on top of the pile. You also reached out for your safe, hidden behind a pile a yoga pants. As quickly and as silently as possible, you opened it and grabbed the gun you were safely keeping in it. It was always loaded as you knew if ever were you in the need to use it, you would never have the time to load it. Little did you know at that time that you would be right.

You hid your weapon under your pyjama before turning around to switch the light on. Holding your breath, you had a quick look around your bedroom: everything was just as you had left it that morning. No sign of him whatsoever.

You weren’t even sure if you were still holding your breath when you entered your living room, but your fingers were definitely shaking as you reached to the light switch. Heart beating furiously in your chest, you braced yourself for what was to come. Your instinct knew he would be right there, sat nonchalantly in your reading fancy armchair. He would have this bright flashing smile on his lips as if he owned the place. His eyes mocking all of your efforts to be safe from him.

And you were right. He was. Exactly like you knew he would. It was your worst nightmare coming alive, except this time there was no waking up.

You should have seen it coming though. A couple of days ago, Frank had called you to let you know Billy had escaped and for you to ‘stay safe’ - as if there were anything you could do about that. Of course, both of you knew there was only one person he could go to: you. Yet, him having the nerves to actually show up in your apartment, years after you had broken up, months after you had helped to lock him up, was still surprising to you.

What you had done to him was nothing compared to all he had made you suffer. He had lied to you, hurt you in so many ways, put your heart back together only to break it all over again. You had never figured out if he was either not loving you enough - or loving you so much he preferred to play with your feeling instead of assuming he too could actually have feelings.

Despite all of this, you had hoped for so long that he would change. That your love would be enough. That you would be the one, the only one, to make things right with him. You had been blinded for so long that your world had been wrecked when you had learned about the last atrocity he had done. It had taken for him to commit the horrible murder of his friend’s family, to make you realize there were nothing from this man to save. He wasn’t a lost puppy in need, he was a lost cause.

After your break-up, Billy had made your life a nightmare. Calling you at any time during the day or night, with different burner phones so he could still reach you even if you blocked all of his different numbers. Somehow, he kept showing up everywhere you went. Sending you notes, flowers, and gifts to your work. Waiting for you every day right outside your flat.

You had moved or had changed your number so many times you couldn’t remember them all. Multiple times you had found yourself yelling at him, imploring him in tears in the middle of the street to leave you alone. And every time he had smiled at you, just like he was doing right now.

You knew Billy too well to know how cruel and ever more unpredictable he was, which made him ever more so dangerous. He didn’t scare you, no… He literally terrified you. And not knowing what he wanted from you tonight was even worse…

Stopped in your tracks, immobile like a deer in the headlights of a car, you watched as he stood up and took a step your way. You took one backwards, trying to keep a good distance between the two of you. He took another one again and after you also took one back and hit the wall, you let your pyjama fall on the ground to display your weapon as a warning to try and intimidate him if you could.

“I’ve taught you so well,” he smiled immediately and hold a hand to his chest to show how touched he was by your gesture.

You snorted in answer.

Billy had not taught you one thing; he had rather inflicted them on you. This was his way of doing and everything you had shared had been through blood and tears. He had made you loved him so much that you had had no other choice that to help Frank to stop him when everything became out of control. He had had put you through so much that you had had to buy a gun so you could protect yourself from him.

Though you had prepared for this day, it still didn’t ease the terror slowly building in your stomach as you were slowly realizing that he was really in front of you. You didn’t know if he was here for you or only to get to Frank. In any case, there wasn’t any happy ending to expect. This was just going to end bad.

You watched as Billy took another step your way. He was so close that with your arm out straight in front of you, the barrel of your gun was nearly touching his chest. All you could look at now was how slowly his chest was raising and falling. If he only took one more step, if you pressed the trigger, you would lodge a bullet through him.

You could severely hurt him, or even worse: kill him.

“What is that, darlin’?”

The gun was starting to feel so heavy in your hand that your whole arm was shaking. You weren’t used in staying your arm out straight for so long and you needed to grab the gun with your other hand. If you had to be totally transparent, you had only practice to shoot once and seeing someone in front of you – knowing that you could lethally hurt them – was totally disconcerting. It was nothing like the inanimate white sheet of paper that you knew you couldn’t hurt.

You realized now that you weren’t like him. No matter how much you hated him and how much it made you want him to suffer, you couldn’t hurt him. You didn’t want him dead; you only wanted him very far away from you, so far away that you could forget that he ever existed. You were probably too good that you would let him hurt you, instead of defending yourself.

“Can’t have second thoughts now, can we?”

Of course, he knew you. He could see the reluctance in your eyes and was playing with it. You knew how it was, you had been here before. You knew he would just get under your skin and play with your head, push you to your limits.

You couldn’t let him do that. You had your principles; you knew who you were, and you knew you were a better person than him.

“Stop talking!”

“Or what?”

Billy still had that stupid cocky smile on his lips and his left eyebrow lifted, silently inquiring what you would dare to do to him. You knew he was enjoying every minute of it. He had proved himself countless times to be the most sadistic person you ever encountered in your life, yet it still surprised you.

You had thought long and through about it when you were still thinking you could fix him. How such a lovely man to all appearances could have ended up like this. The war had definitely been a factor. Joining the mob was another. Yet, none of his friends or partners had turned out this vicious.

You had finally come to realize that this vice of him had always been there and probably would have shown up eventually, war and crime had only made it emerge more quickly.

“Go on,” he instructed.

When you shook your head in response, Billy impatiently grabbed your own hands with his own, pressing the gun into his belly. Eyes wide, you tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger, and he only pressed the barrel of the gun even further against him.

As you couldn't change the direction of the gun, you tried to let it go, but he crushed your fingers against the trigger, and you nearly fired it against your will.

“Just do it.”

His words seemed to repeat endlessly all in your head. His tone was mocking you, as if you were too fragile, not brave enough to just do it. He was pushing all of your buttons in a way he knew you would have no other choice that to give in.

You stayed still in front of him, trying to keep a closed face as much as possible - you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he was succeeding in torturing you - but you knew your eyes were betraying you.

You battled hard to not give him what he wanted, as his mocking eyes burned holes into your skull. You prayed whatever gods you believed in to keep you strong.

Yet, one by one, you could feel all of your barriers falling.

“I freaking hate you,” you cried out.

He laughed heartily, wrinkles showing up around his eyes, and his laughter froze on his face as you pressed the trigger. In slow motion, you felt the detonation, then the recoil in your arms. The grip of his hand on yours was reduced ever so slightly. You watched as he was taken aback by the detonation and how his eyes opened wider while the bullet went through his flesh.

His knees gave way under his body, and you continued to stand with your arms outstretched, watching him collapse to the ground. One of his hands reached for you, while the other reached for his belly. The blood that stuck to it finally made you realized what had happened.

The time seemed to regain its natural speed. You dropped the gun safely and knelt to his side.

“Press it against the wound,” you instructed while handing him your pyjamas that you had dropped a couple of minutes ago.

His hands trembled in yours as you directed both of them to rest against his chest. You pushed hard on it, trying to collapse the hole that you had made yourself, trying to keep as much blood inside him as possible.

All his blood had left his face and you had never seen him so livid. His eyes were furiously looking for yours, which you understood as seeking the reassurance he wasn’t going to die alone.

“I’ve got you,” you promised. Despite everything he had done to you, you weren’t like him. You were indeed a good person, and you would fix what you had broken. “It’s going to be alright.”

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 15

Masterlist

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, implied torture, kidnapping of a minor, very intense predator vibes, angst.

Billy could feel the sweat rolling down his back.

Though the midnight air of the forest was cool, the gear wrapped around his body trapped the heat, and didn’t make it easy for Billy to be comfortable, especially with the additional adrenaline running through his system.

He ignored it, years of marine training meant that he could bury his body’s signals of discomfort, he remained focused on the task at hand. 

He was hunting.

Frank’s youngest had been missing for five hours. 

Billy had hit the ground running, setting up monitoring stations at every entry and exit point in the state. It wasn't perfect, but it was all he had for right now.

If this was who Billy and Frank suspected they were, they wouldn't be using any official pathways anyway. 

Billy finds the spot Frank Jr. was last seen and starts there, he follows the scent, the footsteps on the forest floor, a boy happily running through the woods he's grown up in.

He'd been chasing fireflies, Frank had told him, wanted a jar of them to come home with. It had taken around an hour for them to notice something was wrong, searched for another hour before beginning to panic. Frank had found the spot where the boy’s tracks had interacted with two larger adult footprints in the dark of the night, and had immediately hiked out of the forest and to a phone.

Billy had gotten here as fast as he could, starting his search, knowing he only had a few hours left before kidnappers would make it to whichever edge of the forest they were going to and get out.

Billy had to be faster.

He would be. Panthers were arguably better trackers than bears, quieter too. Frank had made a good choice to call him when he did.

Even if it had pulled Billy away from you.

He shakes his head, can't afford to get distracted by you right now.

He adjusts the rifle in his hand, taking a deep breath of the forest air to clear his head. If he focused, he could still smell the scent of you on his skin.

It gave him peace, made his body burn even hotter at the reminder of you, of why his hands smelled the way they did. He didn’t even get a chance to write a proper note, only a hasty one of apology placed on the pillow next to you. He’d left his phone at his place to avoid it being traced here. He knew he would have to do a lot of apologising when he got back.

.

He loses the trail at the river.

Large volumes of water rushing past him and heading into the far off ocean, Billy pauses and thinks. He hears the crunching of dirt under Frank's boot as he approaches.

"I lost the scent here." Frank says.

Billy nods, moving closer to the river, eyes scanning the embankment, searching for scuffs in the rocks, anything to show him where they would have crossed.

At one spot, he finds the dirt has been disturbed.

"He fought back here." Billy points out, "Must have realised that crossing water meant you wouldn't be able to find him."

Frank's breathing is laboured.

They find a shallow spot to cross. The water is frigid, biting, and he knows that he's running out of time to find them.

On the other side, he notes that one boot print has gotten deeper.

"They picked him up… here, probably knocked him unconscious." Billy voice is calm, calculated.

He hears the air leave Frank.

When he finds that the footprints have split off into two groups, he makes a split second decision, pulling his gun off and tossing it in Frank's direction, his gear follows next.

"I'm shifting." Billy says with finality, “Follow those prints,” Billy points to the lighter steps, “They probably take you out of the way for a little, but they have to reunite with these,” he points to the heavier ones, “at some point.”

Frank doesn’t argue.

The predator comes to him easily, ready to protect his family. Billy grunts quietly as he shifts, feels his bones dislocate and realign. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, he’s looking through the eyes of the panther.

The panther can see so much more, a wider field of vision, better darkness adaptability than his human eyes can. He takes off running in the dark forest, doesn’t stop, his paws barely making a sound as he leans away from the controls and allows the panther to guide his movements, letting instinct take over and make split second decisions.

Nearsighted in his panther form, his brain can hyperfocus on the little things, able to observe the smallest indications of the kidnapper’s presence and direction. Half footprints, the pattern of disturbed grass, the size and depth of his gait giving an indication of their size, Billy finds that he learns more about the mysterious people as he hunts them. 

He’s temporarily disoriented when the scent he was following is drowned out by something overpowering. Lavender oil dumped hastily to deter anyone with sensitive noses from following. Billy huffs angrily, circling in the dark of the forest to relocate the scent lost.

It’s not there, and when he looks around, he notes two sets of tracks, one of which has most likely been faked to throw him off. The panther huffs angrily, moving between the tracks, trying to look for any sign that one is fake.

It takes him a moment, before he sees it, a button, pulled from the sleeve of the younger Frank’s shirt dropped and half buried in the dark foliage of the forest, a sign that the young boy was coming back to consciousness, showing Billy the path to him.

He takes off running again, adrenaline coursing through his veins, telling him to move faster, to protect his pack, to bring young Frank home safe to his father.

The hunters most likely wanted a young shifter they could train, brainwash into killing their own, fighting fire with fire, was most likely their reasoning for such a dangerous excursion in the first place. If they couldn’t train him to kill for them, they’d experiment on him, testing weapons on him that they could use to hunt the rest of his kind. It made Billy run faster, the knowledge that a little boy like Frank was in that much danger.

The panther huffs again, trying to keep Billy focused so that he doesn’t think about his own misshapen past. Remembering his own unique traumas would not help here.

When he reaches the cliffside, he realises the plan of escape. The kidnappers intend to escape with a boat, making it harder for Billy to track them. 

He won’t let them get that far ahead.

He stays in the tree line, looking for signs of human life when he finally catches what his eyes have been searching for- movement.

Two men, busy uncovering a small boat, dressed in very detailed, forest camouflage. 

Billy watches them for a long moment, analysing both figures in the dark of the night. The men wear night vision goggles, and hearing aids to raise the sensitivity of their human sight and hearing. The problem with these technologies was that there was an inability to filter out too much stimuli, which made it difficult to focus on one sound. Billy knew that one good flash grenade would take both men out. 

Still, he had yet to find Frank Jr.

They had probably taken great care in hiding him, the most valuable thing to them now. The panther knew, just like Billy did, that the hunters would rather kill the young shifter, than let him slip from their grasp.

So he had to pick the right moment to strike.

Billy moves quietly, paws padding on the forest floor so softly that no trace of his movements can be heard, not the brush of the leaves on his fur, not the scrape of his claws on rocks as he’s forced to climb down from his vantage point.

The only time he freezes, is when an owl hoots somewhere behind him, and one of the hunters turn to look.

The figure doesn’t speak, they know better, know a single word would be heard for miles. They were trained for this, seasoned and experienced.

And yet still, they wouldn't expect him.

He finally senses the young boy when he’s closer, covered under a shroud that’s been designed to look like foliage. Billy can hear his heartbeat, the soft breathing of an unconscious boy. He feels the anger of the predator inside of him sharpen. 

He stalks closer.

He’s hidden right beside them now, the very items used as strategic cover now works against them, allowing Billy to get very close.

These hunters were only anticipating bears, they would never see the panther coming.

.

When Frank finally gets to them, Billy shifts back into human form. He takes the shirt and pants hastily tossed his way, and watches Frank kneel beside the shroud covering his son.

Billy looks over, pausing as he puts on his shirt to assess the boy, same as Frank.

Breathing, unconscious still, a red bruise on his cheek where someone might have slapped him aggressively. It makes Billy angrier, wishing he’d made the hunters suffer longer. He’d torn them apart too fast for his liking.

Frank scoops up his son, trying his best not to wake him, most likely to avoid him witnessing the carnage left behind by the predator, sprays of blood and body parts scattered- it had been surprisingly silent throughout- no screams because Billy had torn out their vocal cords first.

 “Thank you, Bill.” Frank murmurs, his arms full of his son.

Billy only nods, glad to have been able to help keep his family safe.

They only make it a few steps, before Billy hears the sound of branches snapping. 

He only has a second to act, lunging at Frank and knocking both bodies out of the way as someone opens fire.

The sound echoes through the forest, as Billy and Frank take cover behind a rock. It only takes a moment to figure out where the sound is coming from, before Frank turns, placing his son into Billy’s arms.

“I want this one alive.” Is the last thing Frank says, before grunting loudly, his clothes tearing as he shifts.

And then he disappears.

Billy wants to help his friend, but he also understands that Frank Jr’s safety holds much more priority. 

In any case, he knew who would be winning this fight anyway.

.

He’s holding Frank’s son in one hand, and dragging the unconscious hunter by the ankle along the forest floor when Maria finally spots him.

She runs up to him, he can smell the salty flavour of her despair in the forest air.

“He’s alright.” Billy reassures as she makes her way to him, “Just asleep.”

She takes the sleeping boy from his arms, cradling him closely, a little sob slipping from her lips. He drops the hunter’s foot and pulls them both into his arms. 

He breathes in her flowery smell, presses his cheek into her hair.

They were safe.

“Where’s Frank?” She asks after a moment, looking up at Billy.

“He’s behind, making sure the forest is clear.” Billy explains, “You got a place to put this bastard?” He follows up with, inclining his head to the unconscious man beside him.

Maria nods, turning to show him the way.

.

Billy waits outside the little backyard shed for Frank to step out. He’s spent the last few minutes listening to Frank beat the man bloody. Frank doesn’t even ask any questions- just getting all of his residual anger out.

Billy’s not surprised to see the state of Frank’s hands when he steps out, covered in blood with splashes on his shirt.

“Have at it.” Frank says in a very rough voice, the anger too potent inside of him to get any further words out. Billy watches him grab a rag from his back pocket and begin wiping at his hands. He knows the darkness raging inside of the man, can almost taste it in the air. More than anything, Frank needs his family now to get back into a more stable headspace.

Billy doesn’t speak, only nodding, before opening the wooden shed door to do a little bit of interrogation.

The smell of blood and sweat is heavy in the air. The predator perks up at the atmosphere, scratching at the edges of Billy’s mind to give this pathetic man exactly what he deserves.

“Can you talk?” Billy says calmly, tilting his head at the man, watching the blood drip from his mouth.

The man doesn’t respond, simply eyeing Billy warily from his spot tied to the wooden chair.

“Would you like some water?” Billy follows up, grabbing a clean cup from one of the little shelves and filling it with water from the tap. He moves to stand in front of the man, his boots thumping on the wooden floor, tilting the cup toward him with eyebrows raised.

The man only gives him a bloody smile, his face illuminated by the lone incandescent bulb hanging above them.

“What is this?” the man rasps, “Bad cop- good cop? You think you’re gonna get anything out of me?”

Billy grins, laughing along with the man for a moment, before angling the cup upwards and dumping the cup of water on his head.

The man doesn’t flinch, though he knows that the water stings at the open cuts and scratches on his face.

He tosses the cup aside, walking to the far wall of the shed and examining the tools on the table carefully.

“I’m just making sure you can talk because I want some answers.” Billy responds, tracing his fingers along the hunting knife on the tabletop- deciding against it because it was too sharp.

He pauses on the wireless drill for a second, before deciding that cleaning that up would be too much of a pain.

“I’m not saying shit. So you might as well kill me.” The man responds.

It makes Billy laugh again, fingers pausing on the pliers. He tilts his head, deep in thought before reaching for them.

“I am going to kill you,” Billy clarifies, walking back around to him, “How quickly is up to you.” 

He raises the pair of pliers in his hands, clicking it open and closed twice for emphasis.

“Now why don’t we start with who exactly sent you?”

“Fuck you.” The man spits.

Billy grins.

.

Like Frank, Billy is wound up and agitated when he finally steps out of the shed a few hours later. Having surrendered to the whims of the predator for too long, it’s not easy regaining control.

Frank’s waiting for him outside, eyeing him steadily.

Billy nods at Frank, silently telling him that even though he’s not at his best, he’ll get there.

“Hungry?” Frank asks, and the absurdity of the question is not lost on either of them. Truth is, they’ve both been desensitised to violence, the wars they’ve been through, the things they’ve seen makes this small event easier to handle.

“Starving.” Billy answers, watching Frank’s mouth pull up in amusement.

Frank might not be blood related to Billy, but they were brothers, in every way that mattered.

.

When Billy finally gets back to New York, it's almost 9am. He only has enough time to shower and change and get to work, a small pile of concerns having been built up in the three days he's been gone.

He can't wait to see you, to apologise for his absence, to make amends for such a hastily scribbled note left behind on the pillow beside your head and a soft kiss to your cheek. His heart is beating so fast in his chest that it might as well as be a vibration at this point. 

Except he doesn't get a chance to see much of you at all. He only catches a solitary peek of you when you're heading to the elevators during your lunch break while he's standing at Katerina's desk deep in conversation.

"You should go get something to eat." Kat says, interrupting his long stare at the elevators.

"What?" He asks, not even paying attention.

"It's lunch time, and I think the cafeteria might have something you like."

He blinks, turns to look at her. She's giving him an expression of complete understanding.

He takes a slow breath.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" He asks softly.

She nods.

"I don't want you to starve."

Why he was trusting Katerina, was a question beyond his scope of thinking at the moment. Maybe he wasn't trusting her at all, maybe she had just given him the nudge he was looking for.

He heads toward the elevators, and presses the down button. 

He waits.

He torments himself. Why was he doing this? He didn't need to- he could just send you a message to ask to talk to you like a normal person, instead of whatever he would subject himself to in the cafeteria. 

He turns away, officially changing his mind.

The elevator doors pull open.

"Hello, Mister Russo." You say behind him.

His heart stops.

He turns.

He's held in place by how stunning you look, the way your hair falls and the gloss swiped onto your soft lips.

Lips that he kissed.

His stomach knots as he says your name in greeting.

If you have any indication of how frozen he is, you don't show it, barely meeting his eyes before looking away.

"Enjoy your lunch." Is all you say before you turn and walk away, never even sparing him a proper glance. 

When he replays the little interaction in his head, it's only then that he realises that you addressed him by his last name.

He was no longer Billy, and had once again, become only your boss.

He swallows, a sour feeling in his stomach, acid swelling inside of him until it devours everything. 

He doesn’t know what to do, so he turns, and walks back to his office.

“I’m not all that hungry.” He says to Katerina when he notices her studying him, doesn’t like how small he feels in that moment, wants to hide, and not be seen again, maybe take Frank up on his offer to live with him in the woods.

He lets his office door close behind him, before he’s taking a deep breath in an attempt to soothe his emotions.

The panther is hurt too, your indifference is like a sharp knife to his sternum, where he’d been craving heat, he only gets frostbite.

He sits in his chair, moves on autopilot, and doesn't focus on anything for the better part of an hour. He tries to reason with himself, tries to figure out how to fix this gaping wound that has opened up.

Worse yet, he’s afraid to go talk to you. Afraid of your rejection of him, that you’ve looked at him, and decided that you do not want him.

He hides instead.

.

.

.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter Four

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour and puke mentions. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 7.6k

A/N : and here it is, the end... or is it? (yes, yes it is, no more cliffhangers, honest)

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

Master List

Chapter Four

It all happened faster than you could think. You moved with a speed you never knew that you possessed, pushing him away with a strength that, in the moment, felt superhuman.

You heard the startled oof as he hit the floor, but you were already halfway to the door before he found his voice and managed to call after you, demanding that you wait, that you stop.

You didn’t stop.

You couldn’t stop.

You felt sick and you needed to get out, your hands desperately pulled your clothes and mask back into place as you tumbled through the door. Turning, you slammed into the solid shape of Rocky and felt his hands on your arms. Concern painted his face as you looked up at him.

“You okay? What happened? Did he try somethin’?” 

You shook your head, lifting your hand to cover your mouth as the churning in your stomach got worse.

“No, I - I feel - I’m gonna be sick...” was all you managed.

Rocky released his hold on you and let you stagger away, rushing back to the safety of the locker room, knowing that Billy wouldn’t be able to get to you in there. You crashed into a bathroom stall, ignoring the pain as your knees hit the cold tiles and you started to wretch, tears spilling from your eyes as you emptied your stomach.

Awkward sobs started to slip out as you gripped the toilet bowl for dear life, knowing that your whole life was in ruins.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but, eventually, you felt a hand on your back. Turning, your bleary eyes fixed on Val, who no doubt wanted to know why you’d just run out on a customer like the room was on fire. Her fingers slipped the mask from your face and she cupped your cheek for a second before pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve caught whatever Tomasina had last week,” she said before pulling back from you and offering you a bottle of water.

“I - I don’t know, maybe it was just something I ate,” you answered weakly.

Val’s gaze shifted from you to the toilet. “It doesn’t look like you ate all that much.”

You weren’t sure why, but her concern just made you feel worse. It didn’t feel like you deserved concern or compassion after what you’d done.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shame filling your voice.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Walking out on a customer,” you answered before forcing yourself to take a small drink and instantly regretting it when your stomach started to turn again.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been taken care of.”

You didn’t know what that meant, and you didn’t dare ask. You were just glad that she wasn’t angry with you - that had to mean that Billy hadn’t told her anything.

“Is he... still here?”

“No, he left - though he did ask me to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon.”

Silence fell as you tried to process it.

Of course he hadn’t said anything to Val - he was probably too embarrassed, too humiliated to tell anyone. No, he was probably saving his ire for the next time he saw you, tomorrow morning at Anvil.

Your head turned back to the toilet bowl at the thought, but you managed to keep yourself from throwing up again with some deep, calming breaths.

“I’m going to call you a taxi to take you home, but you’re gonna need to take a few days to get over whatever this is before you come back, okay? I can’t have anyone else catching it and needing to call out sick. I’m not running a plague ship,” Val said, offering you her hand.

At any other time you might have objected, knowing just how much you needed the money, but you stayed silent. Staying away was for the best, it’d give you some time to deal with what had happened and time to look for a new day job.

Your legs shook and protested as you got to your feet, grabbing some paper to wipe your mouth before flushing the toilet.

Getting changed back into your clothes and leaving The Red Ribbon was something of a blur; Rocky insisted on escorting you in the elevator and seeing you to the back of a waiting taxi, all the while telling you to call him if you needed anything.

It wasn’t long before you were staggering awkwardly up the steps to your apartment, feeling ready to drop at any second. It was a miracle that you managed to stay on your feet long enough to reach the mattress on the floor that served as your bed.

You dropped, silently telling yourself that you’d shower and change into your pyjamas after you’d rested your eyes for a few minutes. But once you were down, you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. It all just seemed pointless. 

And then the tears started.

It got so bad that you weren’t even sure why you were crying; because you were mortified by what had happened? Because you were definitely going to lose your job at Anvil? Because he was going to yell the next time he saw you? Or because you’d let yourself feel something and he’d never trust you or let you near him again?

The ache in your chest only got worse as you sobbed through awkward, gasped breaths, until you started to hyperventilate. 

At some point, late in the night, you fell asleep.

When your alarm woke you, you felt worse than ever, like your head was stuffed full of cotton wool. You were shivering and uncomfortable, your jeans biting into your waist and the underwire from your bra stabbing you. But it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest, in your heart. 

In the cold light of day, you felt worse than ever; for what you’d done and how you’d allowed yourself to feel. It had been careless, stupid, selfish. 

Your second alarm started to sound but, for the longest time, you couldn’t even force yourself to move to start your day. And, when you did finally manage to lift yourself off the bed, it was only to reach for your bag and pull out your phone. 

You hadn’t bothered to turn it back on since taking it out of your locker last night but, the moment you did, you were inundated with a barrage of missed calls and messages, all from the same contact; Mr Russo.

Answer your phone.

Please.

I just want to know what’s going on.

Please, I just want to talk.

I just want to understand.

Pick up your fucking phone.

There were voicemails too, six of them, but after hearing the first you didn’t have the courage to listen to the rest.

‘Look, can you please just answer your phone? I just want to talk... I - I want to know what the fuck is going on. Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this? I don’t get it. Just - fuck - please just tell me what this is?’

You couldn’t tell from his tone exactly how he was feeling, but you’d never heard Billy Russo use the word please that many times before. You stopped listening just as the next voicemail started to play, only hearing the rasped word Bunny before ending the call.

All you could think about was that, in forty minutes time, you would be expected at your desk, and - you couldn’t. You couldn’t even think about what would happen if you turned up at Anvil; what Billy would say, what he’d do. There was no way you could face him, even  just to hand in your resignation.

Opening your emails, you did the only thing you could;

I quit. Effective immediately.

Addressing it to him and quickly hitting send. You turned your phone off the moment you got confirmation that the email had been sent and threw it across the room, so you couldn’t be tempted to torment yourself with the other voicemails he’d left you.

Then, you practically crawled to the bathroom, feeling sick again, but your stomach was empty and all you ended up doing was sitting on the cold wood floor until you found the strength to get up, brush your teeth and change into comfier clothes.

You knew that you should do something, that you should try to put the pieces of your life back together as quickly as possible, but all you wanted to do was wallow. The cold didn’t help, your tiny apartment feeling more like an ice box than a home. You ended up on the threadbare sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the window as the morning sky grew darker and darker.

It was going to rain - not that it mattered, not that you had anywhere to be. It was all you could bring yourself to think about; the bad weather and the cold. Any time your mind started to drift towards anything else, you felt your chest start tightening and tears welling in your eyes.

You didn’t think twice when the intercom sounded; your neighbours were constantly ordering packages and food, or inviting friends around, but never seemed to be ready or willing to buzz people into the building. More often than not, delivery guys hit all sixteen buttons and hoped to get lucky.

You pushed the button, took a breath and; “hello?”

There was silence and, for a wonderful moment, you dared to hope that whoever it was had already been buzzed into the building.

But then you heard him.

“It’s me.”

Your heart threatened to stop. Of course he knew where you lived, it was on your file at Anvil - you should have thought it a small mercy that he’d left it until the morning to show up, but you were too consumed by panic to see any of it as merciful. 

“Let me in. I just want to talk,” he said, tone bordering on demanding, but it felt like he was holding back.

“I quit.” You said. It was the first and only thing to come to mind, and it seemed easier than trying to explain why you didn’t want to let him in.

“I know you did,” he answered, “but I don’t accept your resignation.”

“What?” You asked, your voice coming out so small and quiet that you didn’t even know if he’d heard you.

“Just... let me in,” then after a beat, “please.”

“No. I can’t,” you said, trying not to give away that you were close to tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t want to see you, I -”

“Bunny...”

“Please, I’m sorry, just... just leave me alone.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, desperate to suppress the sob that managed to claw its way from you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said decidedly. “I’ll stay out here as long as it takes.”

You released the intercom button and stepped away from the door, suddenly feeling like a prisoner in your own home. How long would he wait, you idly wondered, how long before he realised that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted?

(But, Billy Russo always got what he wanted. Didn’t he?)

The door buzzed again but, this time, you ignored it. You ignored it for five minutes until, finally, it stopped and you dared to relax for a fraction of a moment before going straight back to worrying about whether he was still out there or not.

Rain started to batter your windows and you felt a cold draught leaking in through the crack in one of the frames and - surely he wasn’t going to wait outside in the wind and rain?

You made yourself a hot drink, eyeing the clock as the minutes ticked by; fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour. And the rain continued to pour and the wind kept howling. He had to have given up, gone back to his office, back to all of the problems that you couldn’t help him fix.

It was over. Done.

And, still, your heart ached with a loss that it didn’t understand. He’d never been yours, and you’d never been his.

A sharp thump on the door had you almost throwing scalding coffee over yourself, and a second had your heart missing a beat. Then came two more knocks, rattling the whole door in the frame. Slowly, cautiously, you crept towards the door and peeked through the peephole.

He was soaked to the bone, his usually perfect hair limply stuck to his forehead, causing rivulets of water to run down his face.

Billy knocked again and you almost jumped out of your skin, stepping back from the door as if you thought he was about to knock the damned thing from its hinges. 

He must have heard your gasp, because he spoke seconds later.

“I just want to talk.”

There was an edge to his tone, something you were more than familiar with. He was frustrated, annoyed. Which - of course he was. You’d lied to him, you’d let things go too far. You’d pretended to be someone he could like, someone he could maybe even grow to care about, someone unlike you, the disappointing and useless PA.

“Please, just go away,” you muttered quietly, 

When you got no response, you glanced through the peephole again, hoping to find him gone, instead he was leaning against your door, his head hanging forward.

“I’m not going away,” he finally said. “You’ll have to face me eventually.”

You knew that he was right, and the fact that he’d just spent an hour standing outside in a storm was testament to his stubbornness. 

Leaning, you pressed your forehead against the door and closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “For all of it. I never meant for things to get so out of hand.”

“Please open the door,” he said and you could have sworn you heard a tremor in his voice, a shiver.

(He was soaked through, of course he was shivering.)

You knew what you had to do, after all, the whole situation was your fault. As much as you hated it and as scared as you were of him getting angry, he was owed an explanation. You took a few more deep breaths, struggling to find Bunny’s confidence inside of you as your trembling fingers reached for the deadbolt, then the chain and, finally, the lock.

You pulled the door open slowly, looking anywhere but at Billy as he stepped into your apartment.

Once he was inside, you retreated halfway across the living room, casting him an uncomfortable look that caused him to wince. His coat was dripping all over the floor, but it seemed to be the least of his concerns, his full attention fixed on you.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, trying to figure out how to even explain what had happened.

“Did you know it was me from the start?” He asked. “Was it all just some trick? Some sick joke?”

Your stomach knotted, hating that he could think you’d be that malicious even for a second. But you didn’t blame him for jumping to that conclusion, not after everything he’d told you last night about his business partner betraying his trust.

“N-no, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t realise who you were until I saw you at the Rockefeller Center, at the ice rink...” your eyes dropped to his feet, to the wet growing patch in the carpet. “Why did you go looking for me?”

It was his turn to hesitate and struggle for an answer.

“I wanted to find you, I wanted -”

“I told you it couldn’t last,” you interrupted, finally managing to find a shred of Bunny’s confidence. “I asked you not to ruin it.”

“You said it wouldn’t last because I’d get bored and move on. I wouldn’t have.”

That... that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

“If you knew who I was last night, why didn’t you say something?” He continued. “Why let it go so far? What did you have to gain from not telling me?”

“I - I don’t know!” Your voice broke and you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. “I was going to tell you but then you showed up and you were so upset and I just wanted to make you feel better -”

“Make me feel better by letting me think I was about to fuck someone else?”

There it was. Someone else. Not you. Because Billy Russo would never choose someone like you.

“Right, because that’s all it really comes down to, isn’t it? You’d be perfectly happy right now if you hadn’t found out. You’d be happy if you could imagine it was literally anyone but me, right?” You said, anger and resentment slipping into your tone. “Well you weren’t the only one who was disappointed. Have you got any idea what it felt like to find out that the guy who was so sweet and kind to me when he couldn’t see my face, was actually the asshole who goes out of his way to make me feel like shit at every opportunity?”

Billy was silent, taken aback by your outburst.

“I never...” he tried, but seemed at a loss for words.

“Every day, for months, you’ve yelled at me for fucking up - and I wouldn’t even fuck up so much in the first place if you didn’t treat me like shit, if you didn’t constantly make me feel like fucking up is all I’m capable of,” you continued, finally finding that spark of Bunny inside you and grasping it tight with both hands. “You wanted to know why I changed my limits? You. You’re why. You’ve constantly made me feel like you were going to fire me and you have no idea how much I needed the money I was making from Anvil.”

You saw him look around, finally getting a good look at your apartment, at the way you lived, and you could tell he had questions. The money you made at Anvil alone was more than enough to see you living somewhere nicer, and the money from The Red Ribbon should have had you living more than comfortably.

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why I didn’t stop you last night -” you shook your head, “- maybe for a minute I dared to let myself believe that you really were nice and sweet, and that you could want someone like me...”

You finally fell silent, your confidence slipping away again.

This time the silence lingered for thirty long seconds, and when you managed to bring yourself to look at him again, you found his face was an unreadable mask.

“You’re right,” he said.

Infuriatingly, he didn’t tell you which part you were right about straight away. You remained quiet, forcing him to be the one to fill the silence.

“You’re right,” he said again, a tremor in his voice as he shivered. “I haven’t treated you well, and I’m sorry. I’ve been under so much pressure the last few months that I - I don’t think I really even realised I was doing it. But that’s no excuse, I should never have taken my problems out on you.”

He let silence fill the space between you again, and when you looked at him, you could see the genuine struggle on his face.

“I never wanted to be like that with anyone,” he confessed as he continued. “That was why I kept coming back to you - why I wanted to find you - because when I was with you and I could pretend that none of my problems existed, I was happy.”

The wind outside grew stronger, howling and shaking the windows as thunder sounded in the distance.

“I know it wasn’t real,” resignation filled his tone, “but I - I wanted it to be. I wanted to be that version of me without the mask... with you...”

You sniffled awkwardly, still barely holding the tears at bay.

“But it wasn’t me that you wanted. It was Bunny,” you said, your voice becoming little more than a low mutter.

“I think that some part of you is Bunny,” said Billy, almost managing to force a smile. “Just like some part of me is the guy who was nice to you.”

Oh, how you longed to believe him.

“I think we could be those people... if we gave each other a chance...”

Your heart seemed to come to a complete stop in your chest and the room became so quiet and still that you could hear every shivering breath that he took.

“What?” You asked in barely little more than a whisper. 

“I want to know what we could be like out in the real world, with no masks to hide behind.”

It was an uncomfortable confession and, if you didn’t know him better, you might have thought that he was scared of voicing it. But, surely not. Right? Surely he didn’t mean what you thought he meant.

“I thought...” you trailed off for a few seconds in confusion. “I thought you were angry at me.”

Wasn’t that why he was there, because he thought you’d been playing some cruel joke, because he thought you’d tried to trick him?

“I was... to begin with,” he said, shrugging. “After you ran out, when you wouldn’t answer my calls, but this morning, I was at the office, waiting for you to come in... I was thinking about firing you, I had your personnel file in my hand...”

He took another awkward pause and just... stared at you, confused, like you were some complex puzzle that he couldn’t understand. 

“And, I realised that, if I fired you, I’d never see you again. That I’d lose you and Bunny forever, and I couldn’t go through with it. When I got your email and I knew I needed to see you, I knew I needed to do something. I needed to get you back.”

You shook your head at the sheer insanity of it all. Billy dared to take a step forward when he saw the gesture, an almost pleading expression on his face.

“This isn’t how I should’ve gotten to know you - I know I’m doing everything backwards here, but all I’m asking for is one chance.”

He was trying. He was trying far more than you ever expect him to. More than that, it felt like he was fighting for you and... you hadn’t had anyone fight for you in a really long time. But, still -

“It’s not me you want,” you said, deflating a little at the thought, hating that you couldn’t be what he wanted you to be. “I’m not like Bunny.”

Billy laughed.

For some reason that was so beyond your comprehension, he actually laughed.

“You realise you just called me an asshole, right? You told me exactly how you felt, and you didn’t back down. You made me stand outside in the freezing rain for over an hour - I think you’re more like Bunny than you realise,” he said, taking another step. “But you don’t have to be. I don’t want to know some pretend version of you. I want to get to know the real you. That’s why I went to the ice rink.” He hesitated, swallowing awkwardly. “And I want you to know the real me.”

“Billy,” you said, and it felt strange to call him that - Billy and not Mr Russo. “What are you even suggesting?”

“I - I don’t know. Come back to work at Anvil - or don’t. Let me take you out for dinner. Or let me see you again at the club. We can put the masks back on, you can pretend that you don’t know it’s me, that -”

“We can’t do that.”

You couldn’t, could you? You hadn’t even been able to pretend that it wasn’t him last night when you’d almost let him fuck you. But the other things?

“Why not?” He asked.

The million dollar question.

“Because you’re... you, and I’m just... me.”

Million dollar question meet bargain bin answer. You knew how stupid it sounded the moment it left your lips but, really, was it any more ridiculous than the rest of the conversation?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asked, finally taking a moment to brush his wet hair back, away from his forehead.

“I’m not good at... this. I’m not good with people,” you quickly continued when you noticed he was about to interrupt. “With Bunny it’s different. I have a safety net. I have a two hundred and fifty pound security guard to keep me safe and a manager who vets every single person she lets through the door, out in the real world I’m...”

You trailed off into a telling silence, letting your gaze drop to the floor.

“Who hurt you?” He asked, barely containing the spike of anger in his voice.

The last thing you wanted to do was tell him some sob story and have him feel sorry for you but, after all the lies, it felt like you at least owed him some honesty.

“My ex - not physically, and he wasn’t really bad to me but,” you let out a heavy sigh and found his dark eyes staring intently at you, “he made me cosign on a couple of loans and then he walked out...”

“What?” He didn’t even try to hide the anger.

“That’s why I need two jobs - and I can still barely keep my head above water.” You said, forcing another shrug. “I’m a mess. My whole life is a mess, and the last guy I trusted -”

“I’d never hurt you like that.”

And, some part of you was more than willing to believe him. In the time it took you to almost formulate a response, Billy had closed the distance between you, coming to stand in front of you.

“You don’t even like me,” you said softly.

Billy reached for you slowly, giving you ample chance to pull away before gently cupping your cheek with his cold hand.

“Yesterday, you brought me coffee and you asked if things were alright,” he said simply. “I’d been an asshole to you, and you still cared enough to ask. As Bunny, you asked me if I was sleeping enough and you got me to spend my birthday with my friends, and for the first time in years, I actually enjoyed my birthday. You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did because you’re a good person.”

You stared at him, completely lost for words, trying to understand how the bar was so low for him that you doing the bare minimum had had such an impact on him. But, then, you remembered the little things he’d said, that he’d given away; people only wanting him for his money, his mother abandoning him, one of the few people he’d ever trusted betraying him.

You’d given him something so simple, something so few people had bothered to give.

“Maybe better than I deserve,” he continued, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek, “but, if you’ll let me, I want to try to be worthy of someone like you because I do like you.”

“How?” You dared to ask, some part of you wanting to believe that what he was saying was real.

“We could go back to the start, take things slowly, get to really know each other,” he offered, fiercely clinging to the shred of hope that you’d offered him. “Anything you want. I just want a chance to see if this could be something.”

“No,” you said. “I don’t want to go back to the start.”

The corners of his lips dropped and he looked at you as if you’d just driven a knife into his chest, his face paling as he felt the pain caused by your refusal so acutely. His hand dropped from your cheek. You’d never seen him look so defeated.

It was unbearable.

You moved suddenly and without hesitation, surging forwards to tenderly press your lips to his in a kiss that was reminiscent of your first night together at The Red Ribbon. Billy tensed in confusion but quickly pressed his hand to your cheek again.

He was frowning when you pulled back, obviously not understanding what you were clumsily trying to tell him.

“Don’t want to go back to the start,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “I want to start here, right now.”

Your own hand moved, pressing to his chest over the damp fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heart was pounding. For you. His heart was racing, hammering against his ribs, and it was all for you.

Billy let out a sigh, an awkward and relieved sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You lost yourself in his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the last little bit of space between you and wrapped an arm around you.

Then his lips were on yours again, his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. The kiss quickly became more passionate, more eager, until you felt the damp from his coat sleeve starting to soak through the back of your sweater.

You squirmed, smiling against his lips as you clumsily pushed his coat off his shoulders.

“You’re soaking wet,” you murmured against his lips.

“That’s my line,” he answered back, letting his coat fall to the floor.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you, pressing your face to his chest to hide your embarrassment.

“I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” you said between gasps of laughter.

His arm tightened around you, like he couldn’t even fathom ever letting you go again. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you all but melted against him. But it wasn’t long before you realised you needed to do something about his wet shirt too. So, slowly, almost cautiously, you started to unbutton it.

You were almost methodical in the way that you opened his shirt and ran your fingers over the exposed expanse of his chest. Billy stood silently, watching you as mapped every inch of cold skin with your eyes and fingertips, stopping and paying particular attention to each scar you found. You had to remind yourself that he had been a Marine, and that every mark was something that he had survived.

When he shrugged off the wet shirt, your fingers traced a silvery scar on his shoulder - it looked older than the others. Much older, something from his childhood. Your eyes caught Billy’s for a moment, and he simply shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said as if reading your mind. “I’m okay now.”

Maybe one day he’d tell you about the scar, and all the others but, at that moment, it wasn’t important. The past wasn’t important, just the here and now.

Still, you leaned closer and pressed your lips to the scar, and his arm wrapped around you again. You were content to pepper light kisses along his shoulder and up his neck until you felt him shiver against you.

“Come on,” you said softly, running your fingers down his arm and taking his hand in yours, “let’s get you warmed up.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Billy followed as you led, pulling him towards your bedroom but, about halfway, you ended up pressed against him again, kissing him, unable to stop yourself. You found your back pressed to the wall right beside the bedroom door, his hands pulling off your sweater.

“Now we’re even,” he said, smiling against your lips.

Playfully, you shook your head and quickly started to undo his belt and pants, forcing him to awkwardly kick them off, along with his shoes. Then you were moving again, pulling him into the room and towards bed.

He caught the flicker of embarrassment on your face at the mattress on the floor, at the mostly empty room, at the whole sorry state of your life, and he quickly kissed you again, silencing every terrible thought in your head.

“If you think I care about anything other than getting you naked right now, you’re sorely mistaken,” he muttered, before delivering a playful nip to your bottom lip.

“Oh, you want me naked, do you?” You answered back.

“I do.”

“And, I suppose you’re the sort of man who always has to get what he wants, aren’t you?”

“You’re learning quickly, Bunny.”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer back and continue your little game, his lips covered yours again and his fingers started to push your loose fitting sweatpants down your legs. You stepped out of them as he continued to walk you backwards, towards the mattress that served as your bed until you felt it at your heels.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back beneath Billy, his body pressing you down into the mattress, your legs tangled with his. 

Fingertips raked down his back, following the ridges of his spine as you pulled him closer, losing yourself under the weight of him and the want that had been building in you over the last week and a half, You wanted to suffocate on his lips while you were crushed beneath him, you wanted and wanted and wanted.

When he pulled from the kiss, gasping for breath, your lips chased his, not wanting even a second of reprieve from him. And, the way he looked down at you, his dark eyes turning incredibly soft, was almost enough to make your heart stop beating.

“You’re perfect,” he said softly, shaking his head, confused. “How have you been in front of me all of this time but I’ve only just noticed?”

“I seem to remember you noticing my ass pretty quickly.”

Billy laughed and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, a tender gesture that made you melt inside.

“I’ve got a confession to make,” he said. “That grey skirt you wear for work sometimes...”

“Mr Russo!” You gasped, feigning indignation. “Are you saying you’ve been checking out my ass at work?”

It shouldn’t have been the huge confidence boost that it was but, to think he’d noticed you that way before seeing you in the revealing bodysuit at The Red Ribbon did make you feel better about yourself.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I don’t appreciate the days you wear your charcoal suit...” you added after a beat.

“You mean you’ve been checking out your asshole boss?”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his lips to yours. “He might be an asshole, but he’s a handsome asshole.”

You swallowed his laughter with your lips, kissing him as you squirmed beneath him, pulling your leg from between his so his hips were nestled between your thighs. Billy took the opportunity to shift closer to you, pressing down and - fuck, you swore into the kiss at the feeling of his hard cock against you.

He took advantage of your moment of shock and started trailing kisses down your neck, grazing his teeth over your collarbone and sinking lower still. You arched your back as he reached behind you, letting him relieve you of your bra. 

The sound he made, the low rumbling in the back of his throat at the sight of your exposed breasts should have been criminal. It caused a heat to lick through your body, shooting down your spine to your core and had you clenching around nothing.

Your head fell back on the pillow as he took his time acquainting himself with your tits, his cold hands quickly warming as he alternated between groping and kissing, paying particular attention to the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Billy, please...”

The words slipped out as a quiet plea and, the moment they left your lips, you all but forgot about them, as if you’d never even spoken them to begin with. You weren’t used to this, you weren’t used to feeling worshipped and wanted. You weren’t even sure what you were asking Billy for but the moment his lips started to trail down towards your stomach, you felt like all of your prayers were about to be answered.

You bit your lip as you looked down and caught his dark eyes staring up at you just as his tongue slipped from his lips and traced a circle around your navel. A soft gasp escaped at the warmth of his tongue against your skin, already starting to imagine what you hoped was going to come next.

His gaze held yours and you didn’t look away - you were certain you couldn’t have, even if you’d wanted to. As his fingers hook on your panties, you lifted your hips, feeling your cheeks start to warm as you were completely bared to him. Billy slipped lower down the mattress, his hands urged your thighs apart so he could drink in the sight of you.

A desperate and needy sound managed to slip past your lips as his fingertip trailed through your folds and the wetness that betrayed your arousal.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve imagined this, Bunny,” he said, sounding as breathless as you felt, “you spread out beneath me, moaning for me while I devour this sweet pussy.”

Your cheeks grew hotter still, but any shy embarrassment you might have felt at his words was snuffed out by your own desperate need for him. Without realising you were even doing it, you shifted your hips, pressing against his finger, desperate for more.

“Billy, please...” you said again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the smirk that appeared on his lips at your quiet plea. For a moment he looked torn, like he was considering teasing you, making you really beg for him (and some part of you knew that you would), but it quickly became clear that he didn’t want to deny himself.

Parting your folds with his fingers, he bowed his head and -

“Fuck!” You moaned.

The heat of his tongue against your sensitive flesh was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, holding you down as he continued his assault on your senses. He started with long, slow laps of his tongue, teasing from your entrance up to your clit before starting to focus his attention on the swollen bundle of nerves.

Your thighs trembled and tensed as he alternated between slow circles and rapid flicks, easily starting to push you towards orgasm.

Billy groaned against you and you felt the vibrations of it through his tongue. He muttered something - no doubt something utterly filthy - but you couldn’t hear it over the needy noises he was pulling from you, the moans and the gasped pleas, begging him not to stop.

You came quickly. Easily. You started to moan and writhe beneath him, not caring that he’d managed to push you over the edge so easily. But your orgasm wasn’t enough to stop Billy or even slow him down. His tongue sank lower, lapping at your entrance as it clenched and spasmed, lapping up your arousal until you felt like nothing more than a sloppy, desperate mess beneath him.

And, once that orgasm had started to subside, he started to push you towards another.

Two fingers easily slipped between your walls and his tongue returned to your clit, causing you to cry out his name so loudly that you were sure you felt his lips pull into a smile against you.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in his damp hair, half wanting to push him away so you could have a moment to regain his sanity, and half wanting to pull him closer and let him completely devour you.

His fingers set a quick rhythm, betraying his impatience. Your eyes caught his and you could see his need, his want. And you found yourself wanting exactly what he did. You wanted him to fuck you.

You kept your eyes fixed on his, biting down hard on your lip as his teeth grazed over your clit. Then he pulled the throbbing nub between his lips and you were sure that you saw stars as you started to come again.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, breathless beneath him as he started to move back up your body.

“That was everything I imagined and so much more,” Billy said, wiping his wet lips on the back of his hand before capturing your lips in a kiss.

One of you let out a groan - though, honestly, you weren’t sure which - and the kiss quickly took on a life of its own. Hungry, needy, passionate, both of you taking and giving in equal measure, building anticipation for what was about to happen.

Reaching down, you pushed his boxers from his hips, getting them as far as you could before using your feet to push them the rest of the way.

“That’s a neat trick.” He smiled against your lips.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” you retorted.

“I bet you are.”

Any thought of responding was quickly ended by the press of his bare cock between your thighs, the tip teasingly nudging its way between your folds. 

Your fingers pressed into his back and your eyes fixed on his again, wanting him to know that there was no doubt in your mind. You wanted him.

Lifting your head, you kissed him, gasping softly against his lips as you felt his cock notch into you, slowly pushing between your still-sensitive walls until he was buried to the hilt. Your head dropped back onto the pillow, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by all of the thoughts and feelings currently racing around inside of you.

Billy looked down at you, seeming equally lost in the moment, stock-still as if he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, “I’m okay.”

“Not you I’m worried about,” he answered with an awkward smile. “You feel so fucking good.”

There was an endearing flash of embarrassment on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning up at him, loving that you were able to have such an affect on him

“Hmm, if you keep making comments like that about my body, I’m gonna have to report you to Anvil HR, Mr Russo.”

Billy let out an awkward groan and you felt his cock twitch inside you. 

“Don’t,” he warned, barely biting back a laugh. “Don’t call me that while I’m inside you, Bunny, or this is gonna be over before it starts.”

“Call you what?” You asked teasingly. “Mr Russo.” 

“Bunny...” he all but growled against your lips as he kissed you again.

Finally, he started to draw his hips back and any part of you that wanted to continue to joke and tease quickly fell silent. He set a slow, steady rhythm, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of your heat. 

And it was perfect. You’d never experienced anything so perfect before.

Hitching your thigh on his hip, you let out a long moan, giving yourself over to him completely. 

Eventually he started to pick up the pace, easily pulling more eager sounds from you. Again and again, his lips crashed into yours, each kiss more desperate than the last, like he was trying to prove a point to you.

His arm hooked beneath your knee, pushing your leg up higher, allowing him to sink deeper inside you, and you knew that you were lost. You knew that no man would ever make you feel that good again.

“Billy,” you moaned as he nipped your lower lip again. “... feels so good...”

You felt yourself clench around him, your thighs starting to tremble again as another orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Let go,” Billy muttered, “come for me, Bunny.”

And you did. You cried out for him as you shattered, your back arching off the mattress, your whole body feeling like it was burning with pleasure from the inside out. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced and, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, you felt Billy let go too.

He gave a grunt as he started to come undone, his cock twitching as your walls clenched around him, the both of you getting lost in ecstasy together.

Billy kissed you again, just as eagerly as every time before, kissing you like he was still trying to prove his worth to you when he’d already more than won you over, as the pleasure slowly started to ebb.

Minutes passed and the pair of you stilled, holding each other tight, neither wanting to let go for the longest time.

When Billy finally moved away, it was only to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Minutes passed, neither of you speaking, both seeming to just enjoy the close and tender moment.

“What happens now?” You finally dared to ask.

You got no answer and soon realised that he’d fallen asleep snuggled up beside you. 

You didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing that he needed the rest.

It could wait. 

Everything could wait.

The only thing that mattered was the moment, everything else could be figured out later.

For a few sweet minutes, you watched him sleep, gently running your fingers through his hair. But, exhausted by the drama of the last few days, you shifted closer and closed your eyes, and soon fell asleep in his arms.

A/N : I mean, it's not technically a cliffhanger, it's more of an open sort of ending??😂 I know I say this every time I finish something, but maybe one day I'll come back to this. But, I don't know, I feel like with this ending everyone can have their own idea of how things play out. I enjoyed this though and I enjoyed the challenge of trying to write a more contained story. idk if anyone has noticed this about me but everything I write tends to end up really long, so it was nice to play around with a more straight forward plot? Anyway. I hope everyone enjoys this ending and the fact that Billy is finally getting some sleep.

If you've not voted for what I'm going to write next the poll is here!!! I have no idea what's going on or what's winning and it's a little terrifying. (71 people have voted so far and that's completely mindblowing, so thanks for that!)

In other news, next week I will be posting a cute little one-shot follow-up to Catch Me if You Can. I'm not going to tag everyone who was on the original tag list because it feels awkward and weird to tag people on something I finished almost a year ago. But I'll tag the people who've asked to be tagged on all the Billy stuff.

Anyway hope you all have a great week, and thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown this story!

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @dreadfulxives18 @shwnirwin

@ladyblacky @spitecrow @oliviaewl @snowkestrel @theendofthematerialgworl

@super-clearlysaltybouquet @danzer8705 @benbarnesprettygurl @themorriganisamonster @watersquirtpewpewboomm

[folkloreofyennefer]

Ben Barnes in "Slow It Down" Music Video

part 3

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi! For the kink thing you're doing - could we please please get a Billy Russo competency + overstim kink (or competency and praise, whichever pairing you prefer). In my mind the reader gets *ideas* when Billy is building something (bc those damn IKEA dressers are difficult) or maybe she goes to Anvil one day and sees him doing like training with recruits or something? Anyway, sorry for the ramble and thank you in advance!

I am!

Masterlist

In the Sniper's Nest

Contains: Consent and kink negotiation, hand kink (you get an extra one), competency kink, fingering, overestimation, P in V, fluff.

1.5K words

You check out the new instalment at Anvil, a sniper's nest that Billy seems to love.

Despite his ear protection, he still heard you ascending the steps of the sniper's nest. It was Anvil's newest toy, the tall structure standing out above the skyline of the flat warehouse. He pulled aside his ear muff and pulled the earplug free, pushing himself up from his position lying on the table in the middle of the room to rush over to greet you. "Hi."

You tapped your own ear muff with a smile. "What?"

He pulled them off your head and placed them around your neck as you yanked the earplugs out. "These are a good look for you."

You chuckled. "Yes, that gun is very loud."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you, his hand soft on your cheek as you leaned against him. He pulled away, brushing your hair from your face as he looked down at you lovingly. "Now what are you doing here?"

You sighed. "I missed you, you've been busy and we've been missing our lunch dates." You furrowed your brow. "Why are you in your suit?" Normally during training, he wore his grey fatigues.

He sighed. "I just got done showing our client our new space. They were very impressed."

You took the chance to look around the small room. It was set up like an embedded sniper outpost, the walls covered in large charts about wind speed and bullet type, even though it was furnished like a dining room in a dilapidated apartment. The only things that really stood out were the new couch in one corner and the shelves of binoculars and PEE along one wall. "It looks even better than the photos." It really felt like you were in enemy territory.

He took your hand and led you to the table, gesturing to his rifle with a smile. "You wanna watch?"

You nodded, and he walked around the table to the shelves, picking up a pair of safety glasses and a set of binoculars. He placed the binoculars on the table and pulled you close, sliding the safety glasses over your face before booping your nose as you held back your giggles. "You're being silly, Billy."

He bent his head and kissed you again before helping you climb onto the table and settling next to you. His shoulder was back bracing the riffle as you looked through the lens, and the shot shook the room while smoke billowed from the barrel. You didn't see anything until he tapped your shoulder and pointed to one of the trees at the very edge of the property. Another look clarified what he was shooting at as another shot rang out, and a left was blown clear of its branch.

It happened like that each time, the green leaves disappearing in a puff as the boom of the gun jerked the table until he ran out of bullets. When he finally placed the weapon on the ground, you still found yourself unable to look away from the sight, he hadn't missed a shot the whole time. He ran his hand all the way up your back, finally breaking your attention away from the tree. You removed everything from your head and turned backwards to face them. "That was very impressive."

He was smiling, his ego clearly boosted by the look of amazement on your face. "I gotta go back to the armoury and clean my rifle. You wanna come?"

You nodded. "Of course I do."

The trip was short, only down the stairs and through a door before you were standing in an expansive space loaded with guns. He made his way to the large table with you following close behind and began to dissemble the weapon, taking it apart piece by piece before cleaning each part with care, his face a mask of concentration as the burnt gun powdered turned into shiny metal.

"You see something you like?" He looked so smug.

You most definitely did, each movement of his slender fingers was precise and controlled more like a dance than a tedious process he could do with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. "Yes, many things, would you like me to list them?"

If you thought he was smug before, that was nothing compared to how he was now. "Nah, I think I have a pretty good idea."

The gun was put away in his personal spot, and he washed his hands in the slop skin as you watched on, swaggering up to you and lifting you onto the table when he was done. "You need something from be gorgeous girl?"

You nodded. "Many things."

He settled between your spread legs, his fingertips playing with the hem of your jeans as he gazed into your eyes. "Are my fingers one of them?"

It was hard to concentrate on anything when he was touching you, but you knew if you didn't answer, nothing would happen. "Yes, I would like that very much."

He smirked and popped open your jeans, slowly undoing the zip if only to toy with you before his fingers met your core. "You got something you need to tell me about, because there's no way my poor landscaping and the smell of gun oil has got you this wet."

He wasn't pulling any punches, there was no tease or slow build, he was doing exactly what he needed to bring you right to the edge before your brain could catch up. "You're very good at things…" You took a deep breath to gather yourself as heat spread out from where his fingers were on you. "And I like that you're good at things."

The feeling of his fingers leaving your skin shocked you into action and you tugged at his clothes while he tugged at yours, and before long, you were both naked with your clothes in little piles around you. "You know what else I'm good at?"

You knew exactly what answer he was looking for by the way his thumb was rubbing at the inside of your thigh. "Yes, yes I do."

He smiled and returned to touching you with the same insistence as before. It didn't take long for the pressure to build in your core, and he knew it. His beard scratched your skin as his lips worried at your neck, and he smiled into your skin as you clenched around nothing. He didn't stop there, his long fingers filling you before the aftershocks could fade.

Everything was so steady and practised, the fingertips on your G-spot, his lips on yours, each move intentional and purposeful until you were once again cresting the hill into bliss. He was unrelenting, pushing and pushing and pushing until one orgasm faded into another and space reduced to just the two of you in the empty Anvil warehouse.

"Please, Billy, I can't take it anymore." That was only half a lie, you could have told him no if you needed to.

He chuckled warmly, pulling his hand away and sucking his fingers into his mouth with a groan before speaking. "So you don't want me inside you?"

His tone held just a hint of mischief, and you nipped his shoulder as he chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

You nodded. "Yes please."

His forehead fell against yours as he slid inside you, taking a careful pace as you leaned your weight into him. He wrapped his arms around your body, controlling the pace as you wove one hand into his hair and held the table with the other. As his speed picked up, he pulled back to watch your blissed out face, grunting like an animal with every thrust as he took in the sight of your screwed tight eyes and heaving chest. "Billy..I."

He kissed you softly, whispering against your lips as his fingers made their way to your clit. "I know, gorgeous, I can feel it. How about you be a good girl and cum for me again."

You were powerless to resist his request, not when he said it so sweetly and as you were swept into the undertow of it, his teeth sunk into your lower lip as he followed you.

You stayed together for a breath before he finally stepped back, smirking as you twitched. "Sorry."

You huffed. "No you're not."

He kissed the corner of your mouth with a smile. "You're right about that."

He reached down for your clothes, dressing you piece by piece before dressing himself. Your eyes went wide, and he paused, looking at you intently as if he could decipher your worry. "Umm, is Jerry watching the cameras?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I made sure they were turned off when we walked in here."

You fained offence and shoved his shoulder playfully. "You ass, you planned this from the start."

He nodded and kissed you again. "Yep. You can't be mad, you love me."

You sighed. "I do but I'm expecting you to make it up to me, I can't have you scheming all the time."

The look of lust on his face told you what he was thinking. "Oh, don't worry, I will."

Fin

@thegirlwhowritesfics

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

finale - devil is a woman

seven // masterlist // MAG Masterlist

Pairing: frank x livia, billy x livia

Word Count: 8,919

Summary: It’s finally done.

The ride in the ambulance was hectic. Brett was ranting about how what he was doing wasn’t normal for him. He was weaving and gliding through traffic and Frank, the bastard, was as calm as ever.

You sat quietly, running your thumb over the bit of your pin sticking out the cuff. You knew it just needed a little nudge and the cuffs would pop open, but freeing yourself now did no good. You weren’t going to knock out Mahoney while he was going full-speed down a busy highway, so you waited.

“Hey.” Frank nudged your shin with his foot while Brett yelled on a phone call to Dinah. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just wondering if I can convince Matt to take your case again.” You shrugged and he broke into a grin.

“What about you?”

“I can sweet talk Mahoney into letting me go. You, however, are always a different story.”

“That regret I hear?”

“Never that.” You smiled.

The impact to the ambulance jarred you, causing your rigged cuffs to pop open from the sudden movement you recognized as a car collision. You were thrown into Frank while Brett yelled something about not letting Frank go. He used his free hand to help you back to your feet and you saw Brett’s head whip around to see you free. You shook the cuff off your wrist and offered an apologetic smile. He simply glared at you before turning back to the road. You held a hand to Frank, the other slipping to the gun at the back of your belt.

“Do you got me?” You asked quickly.

“What?”

“Do you got me?” You emphasized and shoved your hand towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” He nodded and grabbed your wrist tightly.

You offered a small nod before throwing your weight back into the seam of the ambulance doors, busting them open and balancing precariously on your heels as Frank countered your backwards lean. You lifted your other hand and fired three shots at the window.

The bullets sent spider-web-like cracks through the glass but didn’t penetrate. You quickly realized it was a cop car, meaning bulletproof glass. You sighed and scanned the car quickly. You needed a new target and your first thought was the gas tank, but that was probably under the rear bumper. You aimed your gun again and fired two shots into the back tire.

The car swerved before flailing wildly out of control before you could get a good look at the driver. You were pulling yourself back into the ambulance when the car slammed into the side again, causing your footing to slip and you to fall from Frank’s grasp.

You heard him scream your name as you bounced off the asphalt, the terror he yelled it with was so real you wished it was enough to catch you. For a split second, you wondered if he was thinking of that run for guns when Lieberman crashed into Dinah and you went dragging across the road in a similar fashion.

You closed your eyes as you rolled across the road, feeling the searingly hot road tear through your clothes and leave burning scrapes across your skin as your permanently unstable rib seemed to snap yet again. You’d never wished for that protective long sleeve more.

You climbed to your hands and knees, shaking the vertigo and blinking hard to clear the small rocks from your eyes. The muffled sound of a car horn and skidding tires drew your attention up, which hardly gave you time to get out of the way. You tried to turn away but the front fender knocked into your shoulder.

The collision sent you rolling across the road again and you nearly fell over the now broken edge. You managed to crawl to the ledge and look over. Seeing the ambulance completely tipped, you felt something shatter in your chest.

“Frank!” You cried out and the desperation you said the single syllable of his name with scraped your throat like sandpaper.

Instinctively, you went for the wire from your Bites, but you didn’t have them. You slammed a fist against the ground and tried to calculate the distance to the street below, if you could survive a fall from that height. It was unlikely the landing would be pretty, but how the hell else were you supposed to get to Frank?

You hurried to your feet and reached into the window of the nearest car. They asked quickly if you were okay but you flashed your badge before breaking off their passenger seatbelt. Their eyes went to something behind you but didn’t dare look. You just hoped Matt’s God was looking out for you.

You rigged one end to an exposed piece of rebar and wrapped the other end around your hand before you stepped off, hearing the hollow thud of another car collision. When you ran out of slack, the sudden stop yanked on your shoulder and you felt the deep pop and your arm went limp. You bit your cheek to keep in your cry as you had to cut yourself free and your knees buckled once your feet hit the ground.

You vaguely heard Dinah’s voice from above and you said quiet thanks to her appearance. You staggered across the distance and knocked on the ambulance’s side. You heard heavy thuds on the other side and the relief you were flooded with could’ve swept away New York if it was a real tide. You didn’t care to stop the tears as you hurried, and nearly fell, as you got to the back of the ambulance.

You pried the doors open and reached in to help Frank out. He wrapped one arm around you and you did the same. After a moment, he pulled away and put that hand on the side of your head. He scanned you for injuries but found only the array of small, surface level scrapes. You put a hand to your dislocated shoulder and Frank nodded towards his other arm, which you realized was hanging limply at his side.

“Just had to copy em, huh?” You tried to joke and he gave you a weak smile.

“Shit, I’m just glad you’re alive, Princess.”

He guided you to the side of the ambulance and slammed his arm back into the socket. You braced against it and he forced yours back in the same way, at which you cried out loudly. You looked around and saw the dripping gas, the lapping flames of the engine.

“Brett.” You whispered, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder as you passed him.

You climbed back into the ambulance and drew your knife. Your footing faltered when you saw Brett’s limp form but you had to keep pushing. You forced yourself deeper into the ambulance and sawed through the seatbelt. Frank was at your side and helped you haul Mahoney out while the man mumbled about locking you both up.

The explosion went off only seconds later.

Then you and Frank parted ways. He was going after David Shultz and you were going home. You kept thinking about the man in the cop car but as you held on to the memory, forced it to replay, you could just make out who it was. The man from Ohio.

You decided to go home, not to hide, but to arm yourself. You were done hiding or running from that man, so you would be prepared to fight. To end it all. Him, Billy, anyone else who dared stand in your path. With the way you were feeling, you thought you might even cut down Matt if he tried to intervene.

You showered away the incident on the bridge, letting the water take away the small bits of gravel still stuck to your skin. It burned the fresh wounds but you let the pain sit there until your skin closed itself. You could’ve sworn you felt your rib shifting under your skin to try and right itself. There was a distinct scraping feeling just below the surface, like something was burrowing between your muscles and your lungs. It was a terrible pain, enough to make you nauseous as tears stung your eyes, but you forced yourself through it. The bones would never fully mend but it would be enough. You’d continue to put yourself back together until that ability failed you, which you knew it inevitably would. It had once, but luckily you had people who cared to bring you back. You may not always have that.

You debated your suit. You packed your staffs, belt, gun, Bites, mask, and shock disks into a bag while you thought. You wanted to wear your suit and feel it all come together, but you couldn’t fully bring yourself to it. This wasn’t something Exodus started. Livia did, and Livia would stay to see the hard work done.

So you wore fitted pants with your vigilante boots, a dark compression shirt, your usual gloves, and your long sleeve. You thought if you should go after them directly, track them by their fear or arrogance, but your mind kept wandering to Amy.

Had she gotten out of the hospital? Did she make it to the trailer? Or had she looked into Matt Murdock and gone to him? To her, he was just a name but you knew she understood what he meant to you, just how much you trusted him. Would she trust him the same?

You were reaching for your door handle when you were slammed by fear. It beat against the inside of your chest like a battering ram against a steel door, reverberating through your ribcage to a point where your breath stuttered. You backed away to your kitchen and spit in your sink. You hit the tap and tried to rinse the taste off your tongue but it wouldn’t leave.

It wasn’t your fear. It was from somewhere distant, from someone familiar. Your first thought was Frank but that man didn’t know fear, only anger. Revenge. It wouldn’t be Billy. You hadn’t felt his emotions in over a year. It couldn’t be Matt. He wasn’t involved in any of it, charged with keeping June out of trouble while you were away. That only left…

Amy.

You hurried to your door and threw it open, sprinting down your hall and down the stairs. You thought about your car but by the time you found your keys, got into your car, started the car, and pulled off, she could’ve been long gone or even dead. So you gripped your bag’s strap and ran.

You ran as fast your legs could take you, shouldering past people in front of you and mumbling apologies. Some threw curses at you, a few pushed back, but no one tried to stop you. 

Night had fallen by the time you got to the trailer. As you were running up the dirt path, Frank pulled in beside you and you nearly ran into the front fender. You squinted through the headlights and saw Frank throwing his hands towards you and complaining. You scoffed and turned back to the trailer. Your eyes caught on the light coming from underneath.

Frank came up beside you and began to lecture you about running in front of moving cars, but he silenced when you reached out for him. You hand closed around the fabric of his sleeve and he reached for your elbow. He gently pulled you forward and you followed him inside.

Frank tended to Curtis, who was lying on the floor in pain, and you hurried to the back room. You checked the bedroom and bathroom, but both were empty. Your own panic began to close your throat but you had to force it down. You could feel Frank on the edge of a breakdown so you cleared your thoughts. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and used both hands to force your power through the room.

You saw the wisps move like fog, breezing through the small trailer and then fading out. Frank was calmer, though still frazzled, and Curtis was basically the same.

You heard Curtis explain that she ran and you felt some of the tension loosen in your chest. Frank used Curtis’ phone to call Amy but the phone was ringing from outside. Without thinking, you threw yourself through the door, a naive sense of hope flooding your veins. It ran icy when you found her cell abandoned on the ground.

You wanted to scream, but kicked the taillight out of the nearest vehicle instead. Frank went and dragged his hostage out the car and into the RV. You leaned quietly against the sink while Frank did what Frank did.

Your fingers drummed against your crossed arms as your brain flipped through questions like a rolodex.

Where could she be? Where would that man take her? How did he find her? What would you use to kill him? Why didn’t you give her the tracker like you did Lieberman’s daughter? Was she okay?

You dreaded the thought that maybe she was dead. Logic told you she wasn’t. She was leverage, bait even. Ohio Man wouldn’t waste that, not unless he had something better. But truthfully, nothing would be better to get you and Frank in the same place as the possibility of Amy being in danger.

“He’s truly scared of you.” You commented when the silence grew thick. “I can see it.”

“Good.” Frank said flatly.

“Listen, David.” You pushed off and crossed the room, leaning your hip against Frank’s shoulder. “Russians paid for these photos and then someone else found out. Suddenly… Everyone involved gets killed. Now you don’t seem the person to do that…” You looked him up and down and smiled slightly as his fear climbed and the yellow fog rumbled with new fear. “No, you don’t have the stomach for it, but I’m thinking that you know who does.”

Recognition crossed his features, quickly shifting to despair.

“No… No they- They wouldn’t.” He tried quietly but it was clear he was trying to convince himself.

“Who?” You urged, plucking at his restraint. “Tell us who it was and this ends so much sooner.” You coated your voice in fake sympathy. “I know you’re hurting, David. I know you’re scared, but just give us what we need and it can all end.”

“I swear to you I’m not part of this. I would never do this.” The man was near tears. You shoved off and patted Frank’s shoulder before going back across the room. You dropped into a chair near the table and leaned against the wall.

You were tired. You missed your friends. You wanted your kid back. You closed your eyes for a moment when you got a text from Dinah.

- need backup at dumonts. meet me? -

You raised a quiet brow and glanced at Frank. He was so enthralled in whatever he was doing that he didn’t notice. You stepped around Curtis and out the door. You headed to meet Dinah, quick strides but not quite a run. There was an urgency in her text you didn’t miss, but you were still so distracted with wherever Amy was. Your head might be for helping Dinah but your heart wanted to tear through New York till Amy was with you again.

But you knew Frank would get what you both needed. He’d get a location or a name. By the time you got back, he’d have everything ready to go. You had your gun out of your bag and a knife at your back. It wasn’t much, but to back up Dinah against a psychiatrist, it should be enough.

You could hear the fight as you approached the apartment. You loaded a comment about starting the fun without you and kicked the door open. You had less than a minute to learn the layout of the apartment. Rooms to your left, living room and kitchen to your right.

The fight was in the kitchen.

You got inside and saw Krista had Dinah’s head nearing the flame of the kettle. You reached for the kettle and knob simultaneously. Her head snapped up and you smiled in greeting before swinging the kettle at her. She screeched in panic and ducked, dropping her hold on Dinah.

You didn’t make contact but the hot water came out the spout and hit her arm, making her cry out again. From her position on the floor, she lunged for your legs. You sidestepped quickly and dropped to press your knee against her spine. You placed your hand firmly at the back of her head and forced her against the ground.

Dinah scrambled to the next room.

Krista thrashed beneath you and began elbowing the ankle you had on the ground. You rolled your eyes and leaned into the knee on her back to lift and slam your foot down on her hand. You pulled your blade and shifted your foot, only to drive it down and through her hand.

She cried out. You didn’t care.

You looked up to find Dinah and Krista threw the entirety of her weight to the side and you were thrown off. You hit the cabinets hard and she was able to get to her feet. You heard the squelch of her flesh as the knife was removed. Her hands scrambled over the countertop and she came back brandishing a steak knife in her bloodied hand. She looked down at you and the murderous intent was clear, but you didn’t miss the underlying motive. Protection.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was trying to protect Billy, and she was clearly willing to do whatever she had to. She wouldn’t stop until you and Dinah were dead. You expected a fight, but Krista had turned it into a death match.

She let out a loud cry and she fell to her knees in front of you before jabbing the knife forward. You caught her wrist and shoved her aside, forcing the knife’s tip into the cabinet door. You slammed your elbow against her jaw repeatedly until you heard the crack of splitting wood which told you she had freed the blade. Your head whipped towards it, which was a mistake, and as she pulled the knife back, the serrated edge skirted your cheek. You cried out and shoved her away.

You got to Dinah quickly, but before you could say anything, Krista slammed into you both. The three of you hit the ground hard and your shoulder smacked the edge of her coffee table.

At least she abandoned the knife.

You looked around and caught Dinah’s eye. She nodded to the window and then looked pointedly at Krista, who was groaning as she climbed to her feet. You nodded and moved to the other end of the couch while Dinah went for the other woman.

They struggled, shoving back and forth and reaching for throats. Dinah finally broke Krista’s hold and kicked at her chest, throwing her into your grip. You smiled as you latched onto her arms. With a small swing, you slammed her face first against the window.

Immediately, her fear was visible. You kept a hand at the back of her head, face squished against the glass, and she squirmed under your hold. With your free hand, you pulled your gun. You shoved off her, hearing a whimper as a response, and aimed. You fired four shots, two on either side.

Krista flinched at the sound and shakily turned to face you. You saw her bloody handprint on the glass before you slammed your shoulder against her chest.

The glass shattered with an echoing sound. Her scream filled any gaps for silence and you watched her limbs flail as she went down. You put your gun away as you did. Her body smacked the concrete hard, with enough force for her to bounce and hit again. The crowd gathered almost immediately.

You backed away from the window and grabbed Dinah’s arms. You spun her and tried to push her to the door but she seemed frozen.

Shock, you realized. Dinah was in shock.

You made a noise to yourself before checking the window. The crowd grew but no lights. No sirens.

You still had time. At least, you thought you did.

Your eyes locked with a hooded figure and the despair slammed you like a punch in the jaw. However, it quickly melted into rage, pure hatred. You backed away in a hurry and grabbed Dinah’s hand.

You yanked her with you, paused only to shove her jacket into her hands and tuck your bloodied knife away. You realized the fire was still on, and while you considered leaving it, you didn’t want to burn the entire building down. You hustled to twist the knob and looked back to Dinah.

There was no more time. You could feel Billy coming down the hall.

“Dinah.” You grabbed both her arms and shook her. “Come back. Come on!” You urged.

He was only a few doors down.

“Billy’s coming.” You shook her again. “I can’t fight him and look out for you.”

No response.

You groaned and quickly looked around, spotting the tip of Dinah’s gun under the table. You scrambled for it quickly and shoved it into her hands. She looked at the gun, then you, then it seemed to sink in what you had said. She nodded vigorously and you breathed out in relief.

It didn’t last long.

Billy slammed through the door, firing blindly and screaming. You dropped to the ground and slid around the corner, brandishing your bloodied knife, while Dinah spun to take cover in a room off to the side. Once he stepped into the living room, you acted.

You kicked out his knee and he buckled. His rage turned on you and you swiped the blade, catching his stomach. and he growled. You caught a glimpse of Dinah coming back into the living room.

You planted a hand on the ground and leaned into it, allowing you enough balance to swing your foot and kick at the slice. Your foot hit hard and he crumpled a little more. You dropped the blade and dove forward, tackling Billy to his back.

You had a comment loaded about a familiar view and different circumstances, but you ignored the opportunity. Instead, you made sure the gun slid away before you started slamming your fist against his face. His head jerked to the side with the impact and you watched the blood splatter out of his mouth and onto Krista’s hardwood floors.

He caught your next punch and twisted your wrist outward, his thumb purposefully digging into the bullet scar. You whined before he yanked down and pulled you off him. You hit your elbow on the ground first and before you knew it, Billy had you pinned. Both his hands closed around your throat and you grasped one of his wrists, fighting to get your other hand behind your back for your gun.

“You had to make it about her.” He said angrily, venom lacing his words as the hatred in them burned against your skin.

“I should’ve-“ You choked out. “Killed you at- At that ap- Apartment.”

The shot firing broke the silence and you flinched slightly. Billy crumpled against you for a moment and you took the chance to throw him off you. You scooted away quickly and freed your gun, quickly firing into his leg before he could get to his feet.

You felt Dinah’s hands under your arms and you let her help you to your feet. Your eyes scanned the area and you couldn’t find your blade. That made your stomach pitch, even briefly considering Billy using it, but you forced the thought away. Just because you didn’t see it didn’t mean Billy had it. Maybe it was just under the furniture.

Immediately after you had the thought, he proved you wrong. Your blade came through the side of your leg, angled down towards your knee, and you fell back to the ground. You scooted yourself away as Billy tackled Dinah to the ground. Every movement of the joint sent a jolt of pain and you bit your lip hard trying to keep your noises down.

You yanked your blade out roughly and used it to slice a strip of the curtain off. You tied it around your wound as tight as you could and gripped your knife’s handle. You leaned on the couch and you came around and found Billy on top of Dinah, both of them gripping the other’s throat. You rocked back a bit and threw yourself against Billy’s side.

He fell away and your instinct was to look at Dinah, just to see if she’s alive, but you couldn’t risk it. Instead, you slid on the side of your leg and got to Billy’s side. His eyes met yours and you turned your head to spit on the floor. Then you looked back and drove your blade into his stomach.

Once, twice, thrice.

He sputtered, blood trickling out his mouth, but you quickly slammed a fist against the side of his head and he fell limp. You dropped to a seat and heaved a sigh. As soon as you stopped moving, your adrenaline died and the pain flared.

Your knee felt on fire. Your cheek stung. Your elbow throbbed. Your throat burned. You leaned against the arm of the couch and gave in to the pain. You whined to yourself as you felt it grow, felt it sit under your skin while your body tried to mend itself. You could feel the edges of the slice on your cheek and the gash on your knee reaching for the other side, the tissues in your throat reforming after the swelling, the bruise on your elbow breaking apart. It was familiar, the pain of healing, but it was too much at the same time. You closed your eyes, only intended for a moment, and you felt yourself fall into unconsciousness.

It wasn’t long until you came to. The pains across your body were dull aches and you could see the lights of police cars on the street. You didn’t know where they were so you had to run. You ignored Dinah laying beside you but you couldn’t ignore the pool of blood. It wasn’t yours, but it had grown far enough to reach your pant leg.

You pushed to your feet and saw Billy was missing. You looked up and cursed God again for taking that victory away from you. Your knife was gone with him and you hoped that if he dared to pull it out, it’d take the last bit of strength he had. You ran a hand down your face and came to sudden realization that there was no mask to hide behind.

Your stomach pitched at the potential danger you were in. Billy Russo gone, Krista Dumont on the sidewalk in a pile of glass, Dinah Madani unconscious at your feet. It was a massacre and you were at the center of it. Your head was ringing, like someone was aggressively shaking a bell in your skull, when you realized it was your implant. Someone calling.

You snuck into the hallway, hearing the officers coming up the stairs. You went the other way down the hall until you found another stairwell. You inched the door open, heard no one, and darted inside. With a new and temporary limp, you made your way down the stairs and to the back alley.

You reached up to call back but no one answered. You shook your head, crept closer to the street to get your bearings, and made your way back to the trailer.

You’d reconvene with Frank, take a few hours to finish recovery, gear up fully, and go after your kid. You still had to find Amy.

You didn’t know how long it took you to get back. With the limp, seemingly having grown worse as you went, and the only moving via alleys, it felt like you took hours to get back. It could’ve been less than one. The moon was still out, that was all you knew.

You came through the door and Curtis stood immediately. He practically ran to your side when he saw you limp, taking on most of your weight until he got you to the closest chair. He examined the healing wound on your knee then promptly went off for a kit to clean and stitch it. You were grateful for it and the stinging of the needle was a welcome distraction from the vaguely familiar man staring at you with a pathetic plea in his eyes.

You looked at Curtis with a raised brow but he simply shook his head. You glanced back at the senator and found it wasn’t necessarily fear anymore. More apologetic, ashamed even. You said nothing.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity until finally the stitches were done. Curtis patted your leg and you smiled in thanks. Quietly, he got up and left, taking Frank’s captive with him.

You rubbed the joint gently and winced as the blossoming bruise protested your touch. You limped to the bathroom and found a long wrap. You worked it around your knee and fastened it tightly, both enjoying and hating the compression it offered. It was a little while longer until Frank came back.

“Where is she?” You managed, though your voice came out raspy.

“He has her. She followed him, called us for help, and he took her.” Frank said.

He was angry and it unfortunately was pointed at you as well. It didn’t take a genius to know that the call you had gotten earlier was Amy. You missed a chance to get her, a chance to end that battle, because you were fighting Billy. All of that and you didn’t even know if Billy was dead. He was also angry at himself, for not being able to keep her. And he was angry at her for getting herself caught. 

“And where the hell were you, huh?” Frank asked and the accusation was hard to miss.

You glared at him slightly, wondering what he thought you were doing that was enough for you to miss Amy’s call and come back with a bloody leg, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. You didn’t have it in you to argue.

“Took a shot at Billy.” You admitted. “Don’t know if it’s done but he left about half his blood on the floor… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah…” Frank sighed, coming over to your side. He dropped a hand to your shoulder and gave a small squeeze. Your head fell against his forearm and you reached up to pat his hand. “You gonna be alright?”

“Always am, Frank.”

Frank stepped away to take a call. He was gone less than a minute but came back with that look you’d come to expect from him. A fight was coming and it was coming fast. You gestured for Frank to give you his hand and he helped you out of the chair.

You made your way to your bag, which you had left on the small kitchen table, and began fitting equipment into place. Your belt clipped easily around your hips and you filled its sheaths with the appropriate weapons. You slung your pack over your shoulders and you decided to leave your mask behind. Your Bites fit securely to your wrists and the blue light from them loosened a knot in your chest.

When you were ready, you and Frank decided to wait outside. He sat on the little step leading into the trailer and you positioned yourself along the junk cars. You were kneeling in the dirt, drawing figures on the ground out of boredom when the car finally pulled up.

Frank and the Man had their exchange with Amy in the middle. When she finally caught your eyes, you saw the shock make her pupils go wide. You held a finger to your lips to keep her quiet and she gave you a small nod.

You crept around the cars until you were behind their exchange. You stood and revealed yourself, flexing your hands to wake your Bites. You heard Frank tell the man - who’s name you finally learned to be John - to point the gun at him because he’d do anything for Amy.

Frank’s eyes met yours for a second but you didn’t need words for his intent.

Not yet.

You recognized that John’s gun was too close to Amy’s head, his finger too close to the trigger. So you waited, tense and ready to fight. To protect Amy and Frank, whatever the cost. You knew Frank wasn’t bulletproof, even if he believed he was, but your shirt at least was. You’d put yourself in front of whatever bullet was intended for them, because they were your family.

You’d do anything for them.

“Where’s your friend?” John asked and your head tilted.

You backed away slowly, though your weapons remained ready. You kept moving until you were able to crouch behind the car.

“Let the girl go.” You called finally. “Come on, John. You just said you have kids. Let her go, I’ll come out, and we’ll settle this.”

You didn’t look up but you felt the relief from Frank and Amy. You smiled to yourself, blinking away the tears of your own relief, before you stood. Your hands were raised and John’s gun found aim at your chest almost immediately. You kept his gaze and he frowned at your outfit. You wondered if he recognized the top, but you also couldn’t remember if that was the one you wore when you fought him last time.

You were pulled from the thought when Amy’s arms wrapped around you. Immediately, you hugged back and allowed yourself to forget John’s presence.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled against you. “I’m sorry, Livia. I tried to call but-“

“Hey.” You stepped back enough to look her in the eyes. “It’s not your fault, okay? Listen, I’m gonna give you an address. You drive straight there and knock on his door. Don’t stop knocking until he answers.”

“But Frank said-“

“I’m not worried about that.” You cut in. “You tell him that I sent you. He’ll look out for you till I come get you, alright?”

“Who is it?” She sniffled.

“You finally get to meet Red.” You smiled slightly and guided her into the car. You leaned across her to put in Matt’s address in the GPS. You scribbled his apartment number on her hand with a pen you found on the center console. “June should be with him. Tell them I’ll see you all soon.”

“Don’t die.” She whined and your heart broke. You were painfully reminded of how young she really was.

“We won’t.”

You shut the door and walked to Frank’ side with your hands raised again. You felt John’s gun following you, but it was the least of your concerns. When you heard the horn, likely part of Frank’s orders, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d you send her?” Frank asked quietly.

“Red.” You replied in the same low tone. “He’ll watch out for her.”

“He still looking out for your mini?”

“Yeah.” You smiled slightly. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know.” He nodded.

Frank and John had a quick exchange about David. Both men took dangerous steps towards each other and your whole body tensed. Once John was close enough, you acted.

You dropped a knee and shot a wire around his ankles. As you yanked his feet out, Frank was there to make sure he hit the ground. Frank pounded away at the man so you ditched the wire and hurried to kick the gun away from John’s reach. However, that didn’t stop John from hurting Frank with an old car part.

You reached behind and pulled both staffs, twisting them together quickly as John collected a new weapon of his own. Frank was regaining his bearings when you stood in front of your shared opponent.

He swung it at your head and just got your staff up in time to block it. You twisted around to force the weapon, what looked like a shovel, to the ground. Your foot slammed on top of it and you jerked the edge of your weapon to hit his jaw. He staggered and you jammed your knee up into his stomach.

His hold on the shovel fell. You kicked out at his chest to force him back against the closest car. Without hesitation, you moved in and pressed your staff against his throat.

You wanted him to die. You watched to watch the light fade from his eyes, to feel him struggle for his last breath. You wanted to kill him for everything he had done to you, to Amy, to Frank.

The thought brought out something long buried, something you didn’t want to fight against. You let that floodgate open, let the rage and pain and anger spill out.

The red haze across your thoughts and your vision served as enough of a distraction for John to use against you. One of his hands grabbed your arm and the other landed on the side of your head. He jerked you to the side and slammed your head against the car’s windshield twice. He kept you pinned, leaning his weight against your skull, and you had to squeeze one eye shut. The glass spidered beneath you and he twisted your head, slicing razor thin lines open across half your face.

Vaguely, you wondered if that was only a small fraction of the pain Frank inflicted on Billy back at the carousel with the mirror.

The pressure suddenly disappeared and you slid down the car. You dropped into the dirt, fresh blood seeping from the thin wounds. You blinked it away but you couldn’t quite tell if it was out of your eye, given the red tint the scene had taken on.

Frank had stepped in while you tried to regain control. You weren’t trying to fight the manic rage in your head or the burning sensation through your muscles. You were willing to use it, but you needed to direct it. You needed focus.

With a flex of your hands, both Bites ignited while you scanned the scene in front of you. The bright blue shifted to red and you could all but feel the electricity in your blood. It was the only thing that seemed to ground you into the present moment. That and the stinging pain down half your face.

John had just thrown Frank to the ground and was reaching for a length of chain. You twisted the long staff apart and threw one piece, ricocheting it off the ground to smack John in the throat. He stumbled away and you ran at him again.

You slipped the other staff into the pack before you shouldered into his side with enough force to head a crack. He hit the ground and rolled a few feet away. You heard the clink of the chain behind you, John coughing and wheezing in front you, while you patted your belt for a quick inventory.

Shock disks. Bites. Staff. Gun.

Your knife had disappeared when Billy did. Your retractable was long since gone. That was a weapon you didn’t think you’d miss.

You slipped two shock disks between your fingers and tightened your hands into fists. John stood unsteadily but still came at you. He landed a few heavy hits to your jaw, knocking you off balance slightly. He grabbed your chin, forced you to look at him as he raised his fist for what he intended to be a finishing blow. You took the opportunity to slam your fist into his stomach.

His entire body tensed with the electricity, gripping tighter to your face. You pried his fingers off with your other hands and shoved him away. Frank was at your side within moments, kicking at John’s head before helping you get some distance.

“You alright?” You asked before moving your jaw around. You felt the familiar throb of pain but it was still in place.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, pretending like he wasn’t covered in blood. Whose blood it was, you couldn’t say. “You?”

“Never better.” You smiled.

Frank threw himself back into the fight before you could. Fighting with Frank was starkly different than fighting with Matt. You and Matt fought in tandem, alternating punches with complimentary styles. You two moved like a pair of dancers or figure skaters, lifelong partners that could anticipate each other’s moves.

You and Frank fight in waves. His ambush would come, then while he took a retreat, you attacked. You two would alternate, creating a never ending barrage of offense. Neither of you stayed down too long because the other one always found a gap to haul the other up. You two fought like the soldiers you were.

It came to be your turn when John tackled Frank to the ground.

You took a short running start to slide on your knees around the fallen man, firing both Bites as you went. He convulsed with the sudden shock as your momentum stopped. Bracing your hands flat against the dirt, you slammed both feet forward to send John to his back.

Your previously discarded staff was close by so you scooped it up, swiped the rotating mechanism, and heard the distinct sound of the blade releasing. You jammed it forward but John managed to avoid the impalement, suffering a gash along his side instead. You shifted to a kneel and slashed upwards, cutting across the fronts of his legs as he tried to stand, then you threw the weapon like a javelin. It buried itself in his shoulder and he cried out.

You got to your feet before searching for Frank. Losing focus was your mistake. John had yanked out and discarded your weapon before he tackled you. His bloodied shoulder slammed your rib cage and the disconnected bones shifted suddenly. You screamed at the pain but John didn’t ease up. He kept pushing until your back hit a car and he could yank you over the hood.

You tried to push yourself up and get some distance, but the sharp pain made you collapse, your back flush on the hood and your head hanging off the other end. John took the opportunity to slam his elbow against the center of your chest, hard enough that you practically flipped over yourself.

Air was knocked out of your lungs. You were dizzy from the pain. Your head hurt. Your leg still hurt, even more now. The bruise was already forming across your sternum. You could barely hear the thunks, thuds, and grunts as Frank and John continued the brawl.

You wanted it over. You were just so damned tired.

You pushed yourself up and forced your feet to move. You limped over, practically dragging the useless leg behind you. Frank had gotten John to his knees by then. You stood behind John, gripping a suspender in either hand. Hard yanks allowed you to cross them over opposite shoulders and you pinned your knee between his shoulder blades while you pulled the strips of material back.

“When you- kill them-“ John choked out. Frank hesitated to listen and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t hurt- my boys.”

Frank looked at you, a silent request for you to wait. You considered it, put yourself in John’s shoes. If it was the other way around and John was going to kill you, you wouldn’t want him to go after your girls. If your last words were asking for June and Amy’s safety, you’d be okay dying.

You let go of the suspenders and John greedily gasped for air. Frank offered you a hand and you limped around to stand beside him.

“I know who you are.” John looked between you both. “You are Death.”

“What if…” Your voice was a rasp so you cleared your throat. “You mentioned your boys. What about their mother?”

“God called her home while I was here.” He confessed, nearing tears.

The red haze broke apart and you blinked at the clarity. You also understood you couldn’t orphan those boys.

“They did that on purpose.” You knelt in front of John. Frank’s hand landed on your shoulder. “They took you from your boys and your wife when they needed you so even if you failed, they had what they wanted. They’ll turn your boys into what they’ve made you. If I can keep my girls from becoming like me, I’d do anything… What if there’s a way to bring you back to your boys and end this?”

“You fight with the Devil in your eyes.” John said calmly. “But you have a good heart.”

“What do you say, John?” Frank asked. “Let’s go get your boys, eh?”

John sniffled then nodded. He looked at you both with tears shining in his eyes.

You knew you made the right choice.

The next morning, your body was stiff as you climbed out of bed. The deep purple bruise took over your chest. The stitched wound at your knee was red and swollen, making bending the joint hard. The white of your eye was red but the thin slices had healed. Your rib was less painful but you could feel it shift with each breath.

When your phone rang with the unknown number, you hesitated to answer it. Curiosity took over.

It was Billy. He confessed he was bleeding out, said he didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t expect you to forgive him. He just wanted company.

Something long since buried made you go to him. You did, however, have enough sense to text Frank to meet you there just in case.

You walked into the building and immediately knew you two were alone. Your gun was a comfortable pressure against your hip as you found the room he was in. You made a point to sit on the floor well out of his reach.

“How the mighty have fallen.” You commented.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He smiled weakly. “It’s good to see you, Livs.”

“Was it worth it?” You asked instead of acknowledging his sentiment. The worst part was that you could feel he actually meant it. “Abandoning the people who cared about you?”

He scoffed slightly, which turned to a cough and more blood spilled out his mouth. “We both know you didn’t- didn’t actually care.”

“I did.” You nodded. You figured it was about time to confess it all, especially if he wasn’t going to live much longer. “Bill, I would’ve… I thought you were going to be the one to bring me back after I lost Matt. I was scared of admitting I loved you because everyone I love gets hurt. I had just lost someone that meant everything to me. I wasn’t going to risk anyone else like that.”

“Do you remember when I said we could get married?” Another small smile.

“Yeah, we were both drunk off our asses.” You chuckled slightly. “You said there was a chapel not too far from Anvil and it’d be fun.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Because I was trying to decide if it was worth the risk.”

“Livs-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Livia.” He corrected. “Everything I’ve done to hurt you, I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He spoke with an unexpected genuineness that threw you for a moment. l

A deathbed apology was usually just to clear a guilty conscious in your experience. But Billy said those words knowing you’d be unlikely to forgive him. You felt compelled to hear him out.

“I’m not sorry for what’s happened to you.” You said plainly. “I did love you, Billy Russo, but I mourned that man a long time ago.”

You reached into your pocket and withdrew the watch he had given you. You flipped it over, ran your thumb along his etched initials, then tossed it to him. It landed atop one of many blood stains on his shirt.

“That was one of the last things you gave me.” You explained.

“Why’d you keep it?” He asked, pupils blown wide as he fought to stay. “If you hated me so bad.”

You sighed slightly, your thumb running over the bullet scar. “I guess I used to hope that when I saw you again, you’d look the same. Like you did before everything… I thought I’d see my Billy, not whatever Rawlins made you. But honestly, I’m not even sure what you became.”

Frank came in before Billy could respond. He stood behind you like a guardian taking post. Billy tried to say he was happy Frank was there and apologize, but Frank didn’t let him get the words out. You flinched at the gunshots but said nothing. You felt nothing.

You had already mourned Billy Russo, so seeing his dead body stirred nothing. Just a faint sense of relief at the thought of a threat eliminated.

“You alright?” Frank asked as you two left.

“Yeah.” You nodded slightly.

The night came sooner than you expected and it was time to put an end to the Schultzs’ plans. You didn’t know their son David enough to care about his career or his life falling apart over the pictures. You didn’t even care about the pictures themselves. It was about going after the people who sent someone for you and your family.

So long as they lived, your family’s fate was unknown. You wouldn’t stand for that.

Amy went in first but you refused to let her in alone. You ignored the mask, wanting them to look clearly into the eyes of the woman who’d end them. Frank was beside you while Amy did her talking. You two took post in the next room. angling yourselves for a clear sightline.

When you saw the wife make a move for Amy, you fired your weapon. Your bullet went through her hand and the knife clattered free. Frank’s gunshot came next, blowing a hole through her head.

The husband screamed in terror while you two marched in.

You stood quietly one protective step in front of Amy while Frank made his threats. Amy warned of going to the Bulletin with her evidence. You knew that Karen wouldn’t hesitate to run the story with or without her editor’s approval, and you’d be by her side throughout whatever backlash came from it.

“It’s your choice.” You said flatly, tossing an empty gun to the table. You pulled out a single bullet, examining it thoughtfully as you continued. “You take that gun, put it in your mouth, and blow out the back of your head. Be with your wife.” You looked at the man. Yellow fog surrounded him like a blanket and you smiled. “Or you live. Live with the truth of what you’ve done.”

You carefully placed the bullet on the table before leaving. Amy was right behind you and Frank followed after, a neat line as you left the Schultz estate.

You weren’t even out the driveway when the gun went off.

The last exchange with John was silent, understanding nods before he loaded his sons and left.

The next day, you and Frank were at the bus depot with Amy. She tried to convince Frank to go with her but he refused, saying he didn’t need her on his conscious.

“Does that means he cares?” Amy teased, looking at you with faux shock.

“Even the Grinch’s heart can grow.” You laughed and it got a chuckle out of Frank. “You’re young, Amy. Go have fun, be a kid.”

“I care about you guys, too.” She said genuinely. “I owe you pretty much everything.”

“And you’ll repay me by living your life, okay?” You squeezed her hand.

“Yeah.” She nodded with a forced smile before looking to Frank. “Why did you come after me in the bar that night?”

“The tougher you acted, the more scared you looked.” He shrugged.

“And you?” She focused back on you. “Why’d you stay?”

“You reminded me of someone.” You smiled slightly. “I couldn’t save her, but I could save you…”

You glanced around while Amy and Frank shared a hushed conversation. You caught sight of a familiar figure standing a few benches away. She met your eyes and offered an understanding smile. You nodded and she came closer.

Suddenly, you were pulled into an embrace. One of Amy’s arms was around your neck and the other around Frank. You felt Frank grab onto your arm tightly as Amy was sandwiched between you two. There was a cold chill throughout the embrace and you could hear her sniffles.

“You’ll be okay.” You told her quietly when you pulled away. Gently, you wiped a tear from her cheek.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Amy said sadly. Your brows furrowed and she gave a weak laugh. “June.”

“Take care of yourself.” You smiled sadly.

Frank reached for your hand as Amy went to climb onto the bus. You slid over to sit beside him and a new presence filled your old seat.

“What are you doing here?” You asked her.

“Thought you two would want some company.” June said softly. “Hey, Frank.”

“Hey, Junebug.” He smiled slightly.

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 4)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, smut

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

You danced around Billy for the rest of the day. He always seemed to find a way to touch you or at the least, be within reach, and always solicitous. It hadn’t taken you long to realize your folly that morning. He was testing you, making sure you were loyal to his friend. Part of you wondered if Frank had put him up to it. Was he trying to find a reason to break it off with you? Did he regret his commitment to mate you? You hated the thoughts that continuously ran through your head. You jerk your head, trying to make the ugly thoughts go away. Would you ever find any peace from your own self-doubt?

“You okay, gorgeous?” Billy asks as he studies you from across the kitchen counter. 

“Fine,” you say, not making eye contact. 

“What time do you have to be at the bar?” he asks. 

“I’ve got to go get ready now. Are you guys coming by?” You look at Frank for the answer. 

“Nah,” Frank says. 

“Of course,” Billy’s answers simultaneously. 

“Okay, well, either way, I’ll see you guys later,” you retreat to your room to change. You wished you had a moment alone with Frank to ask him what was going on with him, but he seemed content to keep you at arms length. It was as you were driving that another explanation crossed your mind. What if Billy brought back memories of Frank’s mate, Maria? He had known her and Frank’s children. The thought made you sad and you wondered if you had jumped to conclusions about Frank’s remoteness. You resolved to talk to him about it tonight after close.  

Saturday night at any bar is busy and you were glad your other bartender was here. You really needed to find another hand, if only to give you a couple nights off a week. You usually take Mondays off but you'd been called in several times lately. You loved the bar but everyone needs a break sometimes. You hadn't taken a vacation since you bought it. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts as a group bustles in through the door. Without them even making it across the floor, you get a pitcher going and gather glasses. They were regulars on Saturday nights. The group bought a few pitchers, played pool on one of the three tables, and were decent tippers. The leader of their group, Dane, came by to drop his card for the tab and grabbed the drinks. He was an Alpha and paid little attention to you outside of ordering and paying. Just how you liked them to behave. 

You were surprised when Frank and Billy actually showed. After their awkward exchange earlier, you assumed they wouldn't bother. Billy was all smiles as he approached and you set their drinks at two open spaces at the end of the bar. 

"Thanks," Frank said softly with a gentle look. It warmed your heart and you gave him a genuine smile. He looked in your eyes for what felt like the first time in days, though it had only been hours. 

"How's the night going?" Billy asks. 

"It's been busy but nothing we can't handle," you nod. 

"Can I get another?" A patron calls. 

"I'll check on you guys in a bit," you smile as you get back to work. 

The next hour goes by in a blur as customers come and go. You rarely have a moment to breathe and do little but refill glasses. The music was playing loudly and there was a commotion at one of the tables that calmed down with Jordan's quick work. It was a great night business-wise and everyone was having a good time. You had finally made it back over to the guys when, out of nowhere, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your shoulders tensed as you glanced around. 

"What is it?" Billy looked around before looking back at you. 

"I don't know..." your eyes continue to scan. 

"You probably just caught a chill," Frank attempts to reassure you. 

"Um,yeah... probably," you say softly. 

"I don't think so, Frankie," Billy disagrees. "Your face went white, gorgeous. Something set you off."

Frank glances around and shrugs, "Everything's fine. Relax. I'm gonna hit the head."

Taking a deep breath, you pour Billy another drink with a small smile, appreciative of his understanding. You glance up to check on the group at the pool table and see their pitcher getting low. You head that way to ask if they want another or to close out. Halfway there, you stop dead in your tracks when you make eye contact with a late arrival to the group. The Alpha that attacked you gave a sinister smile before lifting his glass. You look towards Jordan but he's dealing with a couple of young looking guys at the door. A hand grips your arm and you gasp, twisting to see Billy. A laugh rings out from your attacker's direction and your gut clenches. 

"It-it's him," you breathe out, frozen in place as your anger builds. 

"Who?" Billy looks and immediately knows. His hackles raise as he locks eyes, a challenge clear in the other Alpha's eyes. 

"He attacked me. Frank stopped him. He can't be here," you set off to face your attacker but Billy catches you.

"Hey, Let me handle it," Billy says. 

"It's my bar. I can handle it,"  you say confidently. 

"But you don't have to. Let me do this for you," Billy argues.

"No, I need to do this. I can stand up on my own," you pull away but, letting go of a little of your pride, you turn back to him, "But you can back me up." As you walk, you catch Jordan's eye and motion for him to join you. You approach the Alpha with them flanking you. "I'm only going to say this once, leave now."

"Brought your posse, huh?  Where's your hero with the crowbar? Couldn't hold on to him? He didn't want the broken Omega?" He says, darkly. 

"He's right behind you," Frank's gruff voice is accompanied by the sound of a pool stick taking out your attacker's knees.

"What the fuck?" Dane yells, seeing his friend being attacked. 

Frank stops him with the pool stick, "You don't want in on this."

"What is going on?" Dane looks at you for an answer.

"Last time he was here, I cut him off. After close, he attacked me by my car. He's not welcome here," you explain plainly. 

"Did he hurt you?" Dane asks.

"Nah, I hurt him," Frank grouses.

"Is that when you were in that 'car wreck', Matt?" Dane looks at his friend. 

"No. Back me up here, man!" Matt yells. 

Dane looks between Frank, Billy, and Jordan and shakes his head, "I'm good. Uh, when you're done here another round would be great."

"Sure, Dane." You look at the guys, "Get him out of my bar. Feel free to remind him why he's not welcome."

"We've got this," Billy stops Jordan from joining them. The dark smiles Frank and Billy exchange are enough to make your insides quell. Matt would be shitting his pants before the night was over. 

You grabbed the pitcher and flounced back to the bar as if nothing had happened, secure in the knowledge that he'd never show his face here again. His audacity was mind boggling. 

You settle back into the swing of things and finish off the night. Just as you were yelling last call, Billy and Frank come in with bruised knuckles. You pour them each a drink with a grateful smile. 

"Thanks for delivering the message," you wink. 

Frank smiles as he raises his glass, "Anytime."

You glance down at Billy's split knuckles, "Need some ice? Or a bandaid?"

"Nah, gorgeous," he licks the wound and takes a drink while staring at you. 

You don't know why but it was hot as fuck. Your mind immediately went to it doing other things and you have to swiftly shift your attention. You pour yourself a hit of whiskey, a rarity for you, but necessary to help you through these strange feelings coursing through you. 

“You okay, babe?” Frank eyes you. 

“Just a little keyed up,” you say, dismissively. 

“Sounds like you need an outlet,” Billy gives you a rakish look. 

Deciding to play his little game, you lean on the bar suggestively, “Any suggestions?”

Billy’s eyes betrayed him in that moment. Want was obvious but a moment of vulnerability flashed. He recovered quickly to send a smirk Frank’s way, “You’ve got a firecracker on your hands, Frankie.”

“She gets in her moods,” Frank cracks.

You raise an eyebrow at the comment but before you can reply, Dane walks up to close out his tab. He leaves a big tip and looks at Frank, “He still alive?”

“He was when we left him,” Billy says with a cagey shrug.

“He’s only in town a couple of times a year but once his dad hears about this, he won’t be back. Sorry for the trouble. Won’t happen again,” Dane nods to you as if sealing a deal. 

“Thanks. See ya next Saturday,” you say to assure his welcome to return. 

“Alright, let’s head out, Bill. Jordan, you’ll make sure she gets to her car?” Frank drains his glass.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” Jordan says nervously. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll stay with her,” Billy states. 

“Wha- No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” you retort. 

“I’d feel better if you weren’t alone,” Billy says sternly.

“Jordan will be here,” you argue. 

“She’s good, Bill. Let’s go,” Frank jerks his head toward the door. 

“You go ahead,” Billy says coldly. “I’m staying.”

“You always were a stubborn bastard,” Frank laughs, shaking his head. 

“Always,” Billy says dismissively. 

You clench your jaw in frustration but turn away to finish off the night. It was as if time sped up to leave you alone with Billy. The bar emptied quickly, the staff cleaned in record time, and before you realized it, Billy had told Jordan to head to his apartment. Taking the cash to the back room, you crouch down to lock it in the safe. It was the only way to put some distance between the two of you. His intent to get you alone was obvious to you and you wanted to get into the car quickly to limit it. What you didn’t expect was for him to be right behind you when you stood up from locking the safe. 

Gasping, you growl out, “Damn Marines and their fucking silent steps!”

Billy chuckles as he closes the little distance between you. 

“Don’t,” you put a hand up to stop him. 

“We need to finish our conversation from this morning,” Billy intimates. 

“The one where you tried to seduce your best friend’s Omega?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Were you testing me? Is this some sick game you play? Or did Frank put you up to it so he has a reason to dump me?” You practically spit the accusations. All of your anxiety and fears come to the surface with them. 

A muscle ticked in Billy’s clenched jaw. His dark eyes bore into yours as he leaned in closer. You stand your ground but you’d be lying if you said your insides didn’t quiver. His scent was suddenly more intense and you knew you had struck a nerve. His hand lashed out to grasp you by the throat and pull your face close to his. You wrap your hands around his wrist as your eyes widen. You should be scared, afraid of what this Alpha may do to you but you find yourself aroused by his reaction. Your thighs clench and heat pools in your belly despite you fighting these feelings. He takes a deep breath, pulling your scent in before speaking, “I don’t play games with other men’s Omegas. I don’t mess with Omegas at all, generally. But, I do go after what I want and from the moment I stepped in this damn bar yesterday, all I can think of doing is marking you as mine,” he growls.

“Why?” You ask, staring at him pleadingly, desperate for an answer. Mainly because you felt the same way. Your mind and body were screaming out for him. It was insanity, a delusion. It had to be. A reaction to agreeing to be mated. A seven month itch, fuck, it had to be something because whatever else it was, it was wrong.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone,” he whispers. 

“I’m Frank’s,” you reply quietly. 

“Funny,” Billy says, trailing his fingers over the scent gland on your neck and sending a shiver through you, “I don’t see a claiming mark. You’re with Frank, you’re not his. Not yet… He won’t stay. He can’t. Even if he does mate you, he won’t stay.”

Those words broke whatever spell Billy was able to put over you and you felt the anger claw its way into you, “And you will?”

Billy’s lips part but nothing comes out. 

“Exactly,” You push him away. You grab your keys from the desk and flick the lights off as you exit the back room, “Let’s go.” 

You walk away without a backwards glance. Shutting everything down as you go, you make it to your car and slip in without him bothering to say anything more. Frank had told you Billy was known for going through the Omegas but you were kicking yourself for falling for his soulful shit again. Yes, you were attracted to him but he was just passing through town and no matter how much you wanted to give in, it would be stupid to lose Frank for nothing more than a quick fuck. You rode in silence to the cabin. Your anger and frustration were too intense to allow you to speak and Billy was similarly stoic. 

As soon as you were inside, you went to shower, feeling as if all you could smell was Billy on your skin. You ran the water hotter than normal and scrubbed your skin of any smell from him or the bar. When you entered the bedroom, Frank stirred, woken by the light from the bathroom. 

“Everything okay?” Frank asks, squinting. 

“No,” you say as you get on the bed. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You pull the blankets down and straddle his naked body. Kissing him hard, you pull back just long enough to whisper, “I need you.”

His arms go around you immediately and his mouth opens to kiss you more thoroughly. You reach down to pump his cock until it’s hard enough for you to slip it inside. Your walls clench around him. Breaking the kiss, you sit up to work your hips more quickly, allowing him to fill you more. 

“Jesus, babe, what’s gotten into you?” Frank moans as his hands cover your breasts to knead. 

“Fuck, needed this cock in me. Needed it stretching me out like only you can,” you answer, throwing your head back to let out a moan. 

“Quiet, babe. Billy will hear us,” Frank chuckles, sitting up and trying to pull you to him for a kiss. 

You push him back down forcefully and ride him harder, “Then he’ll know just how good you fuck me.” Your anger returns as you ride him. Anger at Billy for his very presence, anger at Frank for making you feel he always had one foot out the door, anger at your family for making you feel less than, anger at society that considered you nothing but a wreck. You rode all those feelings out on Frank’s cock and when that wasn’t enough you dug your nails into his pecs until he grimaced. You drag them down his chest leaving angry red marks, making Frank roar as he grabs you and throws you under him. He thrusts as hard as possible, driving impossibly deep, and forcing a cry from your throat. He doesn’t relent, pounding into you harder than he ever has, enough that you know your thighs will be bruised. You lose yourself in it, allowing your mouth to fall open and release moans and cries with no regard to who hears. When you come, your body bows and you release a full-throated scream. 

You lay like a ragdoll, completely spent and grateful for the release but Frank isn’t finished with you. Pulling out, he grabs your leg and flips you over. He pulls you up onto your knees and slams into you repeatedly from behind, grunting as he uses his hands to pull you back against him. Your skin slaps obscenely and you can do little more than curl your hands into the sheets as he fucks into you. When his hand lands a punishing slap on your ass, you cry out again. 

“Don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you tonight, but don’t worry, babe, I’m gonna fuck it out of you,” Frank growls as he continues his delicious assault on your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head as another orgasm slams through you. 

“That’s right. Let it out, fuck,” Frank pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed. Turning you on your back, Frank pulls one of your legs across the other and enters you again. You're twisted in half, breasts and face where he can see them, but your ass is still displayed as he fucks you. He grasps your thigh as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. “Play with them. I wanna watch you,” Frank brings your hand up to your breast. 

You pinch your nipples, twisting and flicking as he watches. His hips drive into you steadily and his thumb makes circles around your clit. Your orgasm creeps up on you, your attention on your breast but your body suddenly spasms and you let out a high pitched moan. It comes in waves and you clench down on Frank with each one. 

“Frankie, baby, please. I need you to fill me up,” you whine, exhausted.

“You want me to fill you up, you’re gonna have to work for it,” Frank grunts, pulling you up. He positions you on top of him in reverse cowgirl. “Ride me like you did the other night and maybe I’ll give it to you. Move that ass,” he says as he delivers another punishing smack to your ass cheek. 

“Oh,” you squeal as you begin to move. You’re so tired but you put all of your remaining energy into bouncing on his cock. You stick your ass out, giving him the full view. He licks his lips as he watches your dripping cunt swallow his cock. He grabs handfuls, delivers alternating smacks, and smears slick from your cunt to play around your tight, little asshole. 

“Play with your clit. I want to feel you come around my cock one more time,” Frank demands.

“I… I don���t think I can,” you whimper. 

“I ain’t coming until you come, ‘mega. I suggest you get to work,” he flexes his hips up into you to emphasize his words. 

You circle your clit, searching desperately for that toe curling feeling. You reposition your hips to allow his cock to hit your g spot a little better and begin making shorter strokes. You find it and ride it out, begging your body to give you just one more. When you felt yourself teetering on that precipice, you whined until the spasms hit. Your hips moved in jerky motions as the orgasm made your legs shake uncontrollably. 

Frank’s deep voice groans, “Oh, yeah, fuck. That’s it. Fuck.” 

You feel his knot lock in place and you sob as pleasure rolls through you. Frank rolls you to your side while you’re still connected. His big hand caresses your cheek before resting it on the back of your head. 

“That’s what you needed, huh? Just needed my knot filling you up, huh, ‘mega?” He whispers, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, glad that you were facing away from him so you could hide your tears. You were filled by a man who wanted you, so why did you feel so empty?

Part 5

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