#billy russo the punisher imagine

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

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 : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[folkloreofyennefer]

Ben Barnes in "Nevermind"

It was never mine, so nevermind Nevermind

[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

[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

Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​ for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[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

[stvrlightgirl]

All the good girls go to hell.

pairing: dom!Billy Russo x F!Reader

word count: 4.2k

trigger warnings: NSFW 18+ (MDNI!), PiV, dom behaviour, rough sex, what can I say, I like when he’s a bit mean, fluff, aftercare, soft Billy, it’s just a pure 4k words porn without a plot, sorry not sorry

Summary: He likes it when you’re disobeying, because it’s how he can play with you, and god, he do likes the sound of you begging him to fuck you.

a/n: I definitely got carried away at some point, but that’s my first smut ever, so I wanted to test my possibilities, and I think we all will benefit from this ;)

You stood in the middle of Billy’s penthouse, trying to keep your cool while his gaze burned into you from where he was sprawled on the couch. The evening at the banquet had been all about keeping up appearances, playing the well-behaved date for him, but it was too boring. Billy should’ve known better. You were never one to play by the rules, especially when you knew just how much he loved it when you didn’t. You were just a little minx that didn’t listen at all.

His gaze was dark, heavy with unspoken desire as he watched you. He was in control, always in control, and you loved that about him. The way he could command a room with a single look, make your pulse quicken with just the arch of an eyebrow. Tonight, though, there was something different in his eyes—an edge, a hunger that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

And it was all because of your behaviour. You were proud of yourself.

“Come here,” he ordered, his voice low, a rumble of thunder that sent shivers down your spine.

You hesitated, just for a moment, savoring the power you had over him, the way his eyes flared with impatience at your defiance. But you knew better than to push him too far. With measured steps, you closed the distance between you, your heels clicking softly against the polished wood floor.

Billy’s hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist as he pulled you into his lap. You straddled him instinctively, your knees sinking into the plush cushions on either side of his hips. His grip on your wrist was firm, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.

“You look too good to be behaving like such a brat,” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

A gasp escaped your lips, your body arching into his touch as he bit down, hard enough to leave a mark. “Billy—”

His other hand found its way to your hair, tugging your head back so you were forced to meet his gaze. “What did I say about using my name like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Your heart raced, the sting of his teeth still fresh on your skin. You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of his stare. “You said not to,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“That’s right,” he purred, his fingers loosening their hold on your hair, only to trail down your neck, his thumb brushing over your racing pulse. “You’re going to be a good girl for me tonight, aren’t you?” his voice echoed through the empty room. “Since you’ve been such a brat all fucking night.” He gritted through his teeth, and you could’ve sworn it sounded almost animalistic.

There was no question in his voice, only the certainty that you would obey. And you would — God, you would do anything he asked of you, just to feel his hands on your skin, to hear that satisfied growl when you pleased him.

“Yes, sir.” you replied, the words slipping out automatically, your body already primed for whatever he had planned.

Billy’s lips curved into a predatory smile, the kind that made your stomach flip with excitement. He tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up over your hips, exposing the lacy black lingerie beneath. His eyes darkened at the sight, and you could feel the heat between your thighs growing, your breath coming faster as you watched his reaction.

“Always so eager.” he muttered, almost to himself, as he ran a hand up your thigh, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties. “You know what I love about you?” he asked, not waiting for an answer as he slid his hand beneath the lace, fingers brushing against your wetness. “You’re so fucking responsive.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you trembling in his lap. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket as you struggled to stay still.

Billy’s free hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head so he could capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It was a kiss that left no room for gentleness, his tongue demanding entry, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you opened for him, desperate to taste him.

The kiss was a battle for dominance, and you were more than willing to let him win. He kissed like he fucked—rough, unyielding, and with a single-minded focus that left you breathless and wanting more.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his fingers pressing harder against your clit, drawing a gasp from your throat. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand as the pleasure built inside you, threatening to spill over.

Billy’s smile was wicked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched you unravel beneath his touch. “That’s right.” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower, teasing your entrance. “You’re mine to play with, mine to fuck, mine to do whatever I want with.”

You moaned, your body shaking as he pushed two fingers inside you, the stretch just enough to make you crave more. He set a slow, torturous rhythm, fucking you with his fingers while his thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit.

“Billy, please.” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded, only knowing that you needed more —needed him.

But he was in no hurry. He watched you with a dark, hungry gaze, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a steady, unyielding rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Please what?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your entire body.

“Please let me come,” you cried, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

Billy’s smile was all sharp edges as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh, poor sweetheart.” He cooed teasingly. “Not yet.” he whispered, his fingers stilling inside you, drawing a frustrated whimper from your throat. “You’ll come when I say you can, and not a second before. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body ached with the need for release. “Yes, sir.” you choked out, your voice trembling with need.

His fingers resumed their torment, thumb pressing down harder on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.

The world narrowed to the feel of his hands on you, the delicious burn of pleasure and frustration building inside you as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, only to pull you back each time, leaving you gasping and desperate.

Though, you deserved it. You edged on his nerves all day with those little touches and smirks.

Finally, when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, Billy’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure, dark and commanding. “Come for me.” he ordered, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot that had you shattering around him, your orgasm crashing over you in wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure.

You screamed his name, your body convulsing in his lap as he worked you through it, his fingers never stopping, his touch guiding you through the storm until you were left trembling and spent, collapsed against his chest.

Billy’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you came down from your high, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft now, full of a quiet pride that made your heart swell.

You nuzzled into him, your breath evening out as you basked in the afterglow, the feel of his strong arms around you grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned, his voice laced with dark promise. “We’re just getting started.”

Billy’s fingers brushed over your hair, a stark contrast to the earlier harshness of his touch. You were still catching your breath, your body shivering with the aftermath of your orgasm, when he suddenly lifted you off his lap and onto the cool leather of the couch. His movements were swift, precise—he always knew exactly what he wanted.

You barely had time to process before he was on his knees in front of you, those dark eyes raking over your flushed skin. The way he looked at you, like you were something to be devoured, made heat pool between your legs again despite your body’s exhaustion.

“Spread those pretty thighs for me.” he commanded, lightly tapping on your skin, his voice a low growl that sent another wave of arousal through you.

You obeyed immediately, your legs falling open, exposing your soaked panties to him. Billy’s smirk was pure sin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly peeled them down your thighs. He took his time, savoring the way you squirmed under his gaze, the way your breath hitched when his knuckles brushed against your inner thighs.

When he finally tossed the lace aside, he leaned in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips ghosted over your knee, his teeth nipping at the flesh there before he trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses up your thigh. The anticipation was maddening, every nerve in your body on high alert, your mind spinning with the need for more.

“Billy, please,” you whimpered, your hips lifting off the couch, desperate for the touch you knew was coming.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his tongue darting out to taste you, the sensation sending sparks of electricity straight to your core. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

You moaned in frustration, your hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, trying to guide him where you needed him most. But Billy had other plans. He grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head with a strength that had you gasping.

“Fucking move those hands again and you’ll be cuffed.” he whispered with low voice as his free hand slid up your thigh, his thumb pressing just shy of where you ached for him. “I’m not going to repeat myself, sweetheart.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your body trembling with the need to be touched, to be claimed by him. But Billy was merciless, his lips brushing over your skin, so close to your heat that you could feel the warmth of his breath, but never quite where you needed him.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice rough, sending vibrations through your entire body.

“I want you,” you gasped, your hips lifting off the couch, desperate to feel his mouth on you. “Please, Billy, I need you.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your words, and for a moment, you thought he might give in, might finally take you over the edge. But instead, he leaned back, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he drank in your frustrated whimper.

“Not yet." he murmured, his thumb finally pressing against your swollen, pulsing clit, rubbing slow circles that had you moaning and thrashing beneath him. “You’re going to beg for it.”

You were already so close, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core with every slow, deliberate movement of his hand. You would have done anything in that moment to feel the release you so desperately craved.

“Please, Billy,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your body strained against the pleasure that was just out of reach. “Please, just let me cum.”

Billy’s grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he pressed harder, his fingers dipping into your heat, teasing you with just enough pressure to drive you wild, but not enough to push you over the edge.

“Not until I say so." he said, his voice firm, unyielding. “brats don’t get to cum until they’re behaving.”

His words were the only warning you got before his mouth descended on you, his tongue flicking over your clit with a precision that had you crying out in pleasure. His fingers moved in sync with his tongue, pumping in and out of you with a relentless rhythm that had your body quaking beneath him.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he devoured you, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs trembled around his head, hands fisting in his hair, tugging him closer, forgetting about his warnings.

Billy’s pace was maddening, his mouth working you over with ruthless precision. The world around you blurred into nothingness, your entire focus narrowing to the scorching heat of his tongue and the relentless rhythm of his fingers inside you. You were drowning in him, your body no longer your own as he pushed you further and further toward the edge, every nerve alight with desperate need.

Your back arched off the couch, hips grinding against his mouth as he sucked your clit between his teeth, the sharp edge of pleasure-pain sending shockwaves through you. You were teetering on the brink, every muscle in your body tensing, ready to snap. And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he stopped.

A strangled moan tore from your throat as he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, eyes dark with hunger you couldn’t describe. The look on his face was enough to make you tremble, your chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath, your body screaming for release.

“You don’t come until I tell you to,” Billy growled, his voice rough, the edges frayed with his own barely contained desire. “You should already know it.” He smirked.

What a bastard.

You could only nod, your mind too foggy, too consumed with the need for him to form coherent words. But Billy wasn’t satisfied with your silent acquiescence. He grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, the intensity of his gaze nearly searing your skin.

“Use your words,” he demanded, his grip on your jaw firm, reminding you exactly who was in control. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasped, your voice shaky, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I understand.”

A slow, satisfied smile curled his lips, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before he released you, leaning back to take you in, his gaze raking over your body with a possessive intensity that made your skin flush. “I knew you can behave, not so hard after all, hm?” he murmured, his approval sending a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs.

But before you could even think about catching your breath, Billy was on you again. He shifted you effortlessly, manhandling you onto your stomach with a speed that left you dizzy. You barely had time to brace yourself on your elbows before you felt the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance, the heat of his body blanketing you from behind.

You didn’t even noticed when he managed to get rid of his clothes.

He didn’t ease into you. Billy wasn’t in the mood for gentleness tonight. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you, the sudden stretch making you cry out, your fingers clawing at the leather beneath you as your body struggled to adjust to the sheer size of him.

“Fuck,” Billy groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he pulled back only to slam into you again, his pace brutal from the start. “So fucking tight. You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how good you take me?”

You couldn’t respond, your voice stolen by the relentless assault on your senses, your mind too overwhelmed by the rough friction, the way he filled you so completely, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

He pulled you up by your hair, forcing your back to arch, your head resting against his shoulder as he pounded into you from behind, the new angle allowing him to hit that perfect spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars. His other hand snaked around your front, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that had you keening, your body thrashing against him as the pleasure became too much, too intense.

“You’re mine,” Billy growled against your ear, his breath hot on your neck as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, sending another shock of pleasure straight to your core. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice barely recognizable, broken by the pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. “Only yours, Billy.”

His pace quickened at your words, his cock driving into you with a force that had you clenching around him, your body teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body screaming for release.

“Not yet,” he warned, his fingers moving faster on your clit, pushing you higher, your entire body trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might break apart.

But Billy wasn’t done with you yet. He wanted to see you completely undone, wanted to watch you shatter around him, knowing it was his touch, his control that had pushed you to the brink. His grip tightened on your hair, pulling your head back further as he bit down on your neck, the sharp sting sending you careening over the edge.

“Now, come all over my cock, sweetheart, that’s it.” he growled, his words your salvation as he finally gave you permission, his hand pressing harder against your clit as he slammed into you one last time.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, every muscle in your body locking up as wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure crashed over you. You screamed his name, the sound echoing off the walls as your body convulsed around him, your vision going white with the intensity of it all.

Billy followed you over the edge, his pace growing erratic as your tight heat milked him for everything he had, his own groan of release reverberating through your chest as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

He held you there, both of you trembling, trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks of your release rippled through you. Finally, he loosened his grip, letting you collapse onto the couch, your body spent, every inch of you humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure.

Billy stayed close, his hands gentler now as they brushed over your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice full of a satisfaction that made your chest swell with pride.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a tired but content smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you." you whispered, your voice hoarse, your body still thrumming with the remnants of your high.

The intensity in Billy’s eyes faded as the heat of the moment began to cool, replaced by something softer, more tender. His grip on you loosened, and he gently eased himself out, careful not to cause you any discomfort. The absence of him left you feeling oddly empty, your body still humming from the aftershocks of your release, but the warmth of his touch grounded you.

Billy moved quickly, gathering you into his arms as though you were something precious. The contrast between the way he’d just ravaged you and the gentleness with which he now held you was stark, but it was a contrast you’d come to love.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom without a word. The penthouse was silent, save for the faint hum of the city below, but it felt like your own private world in his embrace. You nestled against his chest, your cheek pressed to the warmth of his skin, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was soothing, a balm for the rawness of your body and mind.

Billy kicked the bedroom door open, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. He laid you down on the bed with a care that almost made you tear up, the tender way his hands lingered on your skin as he arranged the pillows behind your head, making sure you were comfortable.

“Stay right here,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers trailing softly along your temple. The softness in his eyes made your heart ache in the best way.

You nodded, too tired and content to do anything but sink deeper into the plush comforter. Billy disappeared into the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water running, the familiar routine of him preparing to take care of you after nights like this.

When he returned, he had a warm, damp cloth in his hand. He sat on the edge of the bed, his touch featherlight as he began to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure with the utmost care. He was meticulous, taking his time, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked.

The sensation of the warm cloth against your sensitive skin was soothing, and you sighed softly, letting your eyes flutter shut. Billy’s touch was reverent, as though he was making sure every inch of you was attended to, his hands gentle in a way that spoke of deep affection.

“Too much?” he asked softly when you winced slightly, his gaze full of concern.

“No, it’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, too comfortable to muster anything louder. “You’re perfect.”

Billy’s lips twitched into a small smile, his eyes softening even more. He finished his task, setting the cloth aside before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, the kind of kiss that was full of love, not lust. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel loved in a way that words couldn’t convey.

“You’re sweet when you’re tired." His voice low and soothing, like he was speaking to something fragile. “I’m going to get us some water, I’ll be right back." He tapped your bum gently.

You nodded, your limbs too heavy to do much else. The bed was warm and inviting, and you felt like you could drift off to sleep any second. But you didn’t want to, not yet. You wanted to stay in this moment, where everything felt perfect, where Billy was yours, and you were his.

Billy returned with two glasses of water, and you managed to prop yourself up on your elbows to take the one he offered you. He watched you closely as you drank, making sure you took slow, steady sips, and when you finished, he took the glass from your hand to set it on the nightstand beside his own.

He slid into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. You curled into his side, head resting on his chest, one leg draped over his as his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asked quietly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back, his voice full of concern.

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his chest. “No, Billy, it was perfect,” you reassured him, your voice muffled against his skin. “You know I like it when you’re rough with me.” You murmured, hiding your face in his neck.

He chuckled softly, a sound that rumbled through his chest and made you smile. “Yeah, should’ve known by now.” he murmured, his tone light, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something vulnerable. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I more than enjoyed it.” you whispered, tilting your head to look up at him. “I’m happy.”

Billy’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that spoke of love and commitment, of a bond that went beyond the physical. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, like you were the most important thing to him.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible, but they hit you with the force of a hurricane, filling every corner of your heart.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, your voice full of emotion, the words catching in your throat.

Billy smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. He shifted, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’ve got you.”

And with those words, you let yourself relax completely, your body melting into his as sleep began to pull at the edges of your consciousness. Billy’s presence was warm and comforting, his steady heartbeat beneath your ear a lullaby that coaxed you into slumber.

You drifted off with the feeling of Billy’s arms around you, the soft sound of his breathing in your ear, and the knowledge that you were safe, loved, and completely cherished. And as sleep claimed you, you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be, no one else you’d rather be with. Billy was your world, and you were his, and in that moment, everything was exactly as it should be.

[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 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

[amhrosina]

Your Pretty Heart (Billy Russo x f!Reader)

A/N: Anyone else widely obsessed with Pedro Pascal and The Last of Us right now? Being back in my Pedro era feels like getting home after a long ass trip. Should I write for some of Pedro's characters?? SOS! Also, I hit 800 followers today??? Like what??? Thank you to everyone who supports me and this account!!

Request: ex’s to lovers with Billy Russo or Matt Murdock. Where Frank and Karen “help” Billy/Matt get their ass together to get back with Reader. Because come on their clearly still in lovee. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: When you and Billy break up, Karen takes it upon herself to get you back together. Her plan comes to a head one night at Josie’s, and you and Billy must face the consequences of loving and leaving one another. 

(Warnings: so much angst, cursing, Billy is a soft!boy at heart, soft!Billy, descriptions of smut (but like romantic descriptions, not graphic ones??), I think that’s it, it’s literally just really sad until the end lol) 

“You look great.” Your date smiled, but he wasn’t looking at your face. Instead, for the third time in less than a minute, his eyes trailed the sloping curve of your cleavage as it disappeared into your dress. You shrugged his gaze off, hoping there was at least something interesting about him to keep you entertained for the evening. Something could be there. Deep, deep, down, but there, nonetheless.  

“So, Brad, what do you do for work? When Karen set this up, she didn’t tell me much about you.” 

“I’m an accountant.”  

Brad nodded his head along with yours, an awkward bob as you waited for him to return the question. He didn’t, instead choosing to fix his gaze on the jazz singer across the restaurant. Zero for two, Brad. 

“Do you, uh, have any hobbies?” You tried again to break the conversation dam, but Brad’s attention was so far away from the table you were sharing that he barely glanced at you when he responded. 

“I jog sometimes.” 

“Oh!” You lurched forward, desperate to grab onto anything that might make this date less awkward. “I like to jog, too. I’ll listen to books when I do it to pass the time. Do you read at all?” 

Brad’s eyes flicked to yours, then back to the jazz singer. Uninterested, bored, and inconvenienced. That’s what his glance told you. 

“People who need books or music when they run aren’t capable of self-reflection. It’s how you grow as a human being, you know? You should try it.”  

You blinked. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? A pompous, arrogant, prick seemed like the winning description, and you chuckled as you looped your purse handle over your shoulder. 

“Well, Brad.” You stood from your seat, drawing his attention away from the band. “Congratulations. You win. I think this is quite possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on, and that’s saying a lot.” 

You didn’t deem him with an explanation as you exited the restaurant, but a vivid memory flashed in your mind of Billy standing you up on your anniversary last year. Yeah, that date was terrible, but at least Billy hadn’t insulted you after standing you up. He’d spent weeks apologizing with flowers, jewelry, and even cutting down on his time at Anvil so he could spend more time with you, but that date would always stick out in your mind as the beginning of the end.  

You shook the thoughts from your head, digging through your purse to find your cellphone. Karen was going to explain where the fuck she met this guy, and why she thought setting him up with you would be a good idea. She picked up on the second ring. 

“Karen.” You tapped your foot on the sidewalk. “What the fuck?” 

“Hey! How was the date?”  

Wherever Karen was, it was loud. You could barely understand her through the speaker, muffled by music and what sounded like a crowd of people in the background.  

“The date was so bad.” You almost whined. Almost stomped your foot at how unfair the dating world had become. Almost thought about how much easier it was when you were with Billy. “Where did you even meet this guy?” 

“At work. Was he an asshole?” She sounded apologetic, but the volume at which she had to scream her question into the phone made the entire interaction feel a little less impactful.  

“Grade-A Asshole.” You groaned. “Where are you?” 

“I’m at Josie’s, but-” 

“Great. I’m on my way.”  

You hung up the phone before she could respond and hailed a taxi. You felt a little guilty for barging in on her evening. Karen was a good friend, one that you’d clung to since you and Billy had gone your separate ways, and she deserved a night out without your moping. But the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of your stomach told you exactly the reason you had to go to Josie’s. If you didn’t go hang out with Karen, you’d end up calling Billy, and the last thing you wanted to do was let him see you after a shitty date. You climbed into the taxi and hoped you could drink away the memories of tonight with Karen once you arrived at Josie’s.  

- 

Billy took a hefty sip of his beer as he eavesdropped on Karen’s phone conversation. Technically, it wasn’t eavesdropping if Karen had whacked him on the arm the second her phone started ringing, but it made Billy uncomfortable anyways. What they’d planned felt too much like a trick, and he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. 

“She’s on her way.” Karen grinned, raising her beer in the air to clink bottles with him.  

Billy fiddled with the bottle in his hand, unsure if there was anything to be ‘cheersing’ to. 

“C’mon, Bill,” Frank grunted, meeting Karen’s still outstretched arm, “It worked. She’s on her way. Now, all you have to do is be a lesser asshole than her date.” 

“Don’t you think she’ll be furious when she finds out her entire evening was construed by her ex-boyfriend and best friends? She doesn’t even want to see me.” 

“Trust me, Billy,” Karen angled her head for emphasis, “She does. She just won’t admit it.” 

“How do you know, though?”  

“I see it on her face, and hear it in her voice, and she’s still sleeping on my couch. And you know what that tells me?”  

Billy rolled his eyes. “What does that tell you, Karen?” 

Karen’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “That she’s not looking for another apartment. That she still has hope that she’ll be able to go home, to your apartment.” 

Billy shook his head. “The market is insane. Maybe she just can’t find an affordable one.” 

“I saw three listed in the paper this morning. She’s not looking, Billy. She misses you.” 

Billy groaned, dragging his hands over his face. This entire situation was completely and totally fucked, and it was completely and totally his fault. He’d always been warned that his ambition would get the best of him. You’d slipped through his fingers so quickly that he got whiplash when he thought about the end of the relationship. It was like you were there one day and gone the next, and he had no idea how he ended up alone, stranded in his kitchen in the middle of the night because the idea of going to bed without you hurt too much.  

“What if it’s too late? What if I can’t fix it?” 

“All you can do is try, Bill.” Frank shrugged. 

“She loves you.” Karen spoke firmly, tapping her finger on the table, “And you love her. But she needs to know that. You have to show her that you love her.” 

“How? I thought I was doing that before.” Billy let out a disgruntled breath and cleared his throat.  

“Your priorities need to change. She deserves better than last-minute cancellations and rescheduled dates. You’re your own boss, Billy. You make the rules, and no matter how much money you spend on her, or how many gifts you buy her, she’s always going to remember the times that you didn’t show up.” 

Billy nodded. Karen was right, as usual. There’d been a significant change in the amount of time Billy was spending at Anvil, sometimes returning home early in the morning, only to change suits and leave again. It wasn’t your fault – it never was – but Billy couldn’t help himself from falling back into his old patterns. When shit got too real, he retreated, and it ended up costing him the most important thing in his life.  

Tonight was his chance to fix everything – to bring you home, to remind you that he adored you, to show you that his life was falling apart without you in it. All he had to do was get you to listen, and he was sure everything else would fall into place. 

- 

You took three steps into the bar before swiveling around and marching out in a dramatic fashion. Cursing Karen for conveniently forgetting to mention that Billy was with her, you tried not to stomp down the sidewalk that led to Karen’s apartment. If you had an apartment of your own, you’d surely be stomping your way there instead.  

You didn’t make it far before you heard your name being called behind you. Two distinct voices trailed you, but you were more focused on the lack of the third. Had he stayed behind at the bar? You swung around, almost slamming into Frank’s chest. Karen was a few steps behind him, and behind her, stood beautiful and broken Billy, hands in his pants pockets.  

“What?” You screeched, eyes flickering between the group. 

“I just wanted to tell you thaaaat,” Karen’s eyes twinkled, and you should’ve known that she was about to make your night go from bad to worse, “I’m going back to my apartment with my boyfriend, who is going to do very loud things to me for hours. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the whole block tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked at Frank, whose innocent expression gave away Karen’s plan faster than you could piece it together. Clearly, this coup had been planned, and they were leaving you with no option but to spend time with Billy. 

“Is that so?” You narrowed your eyes at her, hoping she could read every nasty thought you’d ever had about her in your gaze.  

“Yep!” She hooked an arm through Frank’s and tugged him down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!” 

You watched them until they turned a corner, and you could no longer see them. When you turned to face Billy again, he had inched closer to you, standing a heady meter away with his hands still in his pockets. 

“Did you plan this?”  

The anger in your voice echoed across the concrete, slamming into Billy. He grasped his chest as if you’d shot him in the heart.  

“No. I didn’t even know there was a plan until I showed up at Josie’s earlier.” 

You hesitated to believe him, but something in the way he was looking at you told you to trust him. You looked him up and down, focusing on the way he looked worse than you’d ever seen him. For a brief second, you felt triumph over it. He deserved this after everything he did to you. He deserved to feel like shit. The triumph faded faster than it came, and an overwhelming sadness replaced the ire thoughts you were having about him.  

There were bags under his eyes, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well. He never did when he couldn’t sleep with you. The facial hair that he usually kept so neat and maintained had grown beyond his usual boundaries, and the fact that he kept subconsciously scratching at it told you he didn’t like it. You tried not to let it get to you. You probably looked like shit, too.  

“How’ve you been?” His focus remained wholly on you. You rubbed the back of your neck to try and shake off his stare. 

“We don’t have to do this, Bil.” You looked at the ground, focusing on the crack in the concrete that crawled its way across the sidewalk, drawing a line inbetween you and Billy. You couldn’t decide if that was fitting, or incredibly sad. Maybe it was both. 

“We’re not doing anything.” He shook his head innocently. 

“You know what I mea-” 

“Come home.”  

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the two of you eyed each other. 

“Billy, I-” 

“Just for tonight. Until Karen’s apartment is...safe again.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for an ulterior motive. And of course, there was an ulterior motive. You couldn’t blame him for it, because you knew if the roles were reversed, you’d be doing the same thing.  

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, more towards yourself than at him.  

“Why not?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“You know why.”  

He nodded but shrugged his shoulders anyways.  

“I’m not going to leave you out here with nowhere to go. It’s either the apartment, or we spend the next few hours in awkward silence at a diner.” 

The apartment. Not ‘my’ apartment. He didn’t consider it his when you weren’t there to claim the other half of it. You couldn’t lie to yourself. You wanted so badly to go with him, to see the home that you’d built with him. You wanted so badly to see how he’d faired over the last month without you. It was with all this in mind, and not how much you missed him, that had you nodding, agreeing to go home. Just for a visit, you repeated in your mind, just for a visit. 

When you stepped into what was once the living room you shared with Billy, you were struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. There was nothing different about it, except that the bookshelf was a little less stuffed than usual. You’d grabbed your favorites on your way out, unable to part with them, even just for a little bit. 

“Can I get you some wine?” Billy asked, already heading toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass. You nodded, shrugging your jacket off and trying to ignore the strangeness of being treated like a guest in the home that you’d lived in for years.  

When Billy returned with two particularly full glasses, you plopped down on the couch. You didn’t know how to act, or what to say, or who to be when you were around him anymore and falling back into old habits seemed like a grand way to get your feelings hurt again. 

“You didn’t answer my question earlier.” Billy took a swig from his glass, sitting on the armchair across from the couch. You silently thanked the universe that he had put distance between the two of you. The closer he was, the less clearly you could think.  

“Which one?” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Oh.” You took a sip, only because it gave you something to do with your hands. “I’ve been alright.” 

He smiled, but the corners of his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. Anyone who looked at you longer than two seconds could see that you’re clearly not doing alright, but you’d grown comfortable living in denial, and you weren’t going to admit how not alright you were.  

“Heard your date didn’t go well.” 

You scoffed. Maybe it was the wine, or the way he looked smug about the fact that you’d had a shitty date, but you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.  

“Fuck you, Billy. It’s none of your business.” 

Billy looked startled by your outburst. You gulped down another mouthful of wine before rubbing your hand down your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from.” 

“It’s okay. I probably deserve it.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. 

“What happened to us?” You asked, gazing at the ceiling. 

“You tell me, sunflower. You’re the one that left.” 

Your heart ached at the nickname. It wasn’t fair that he used it, especially when you were clearly in a vulnerable mood, but you cherished it anyways.  

“You left first.”  

It was barely a whisper, said so quietly that you weren’t quite sure he had heard you. If the palpable tension that followed wasn’t indicative of his acknowledgment, the deep sigh that erupted from his chest soon after was indication enough. He stayed quiet, swirling the remaining wine in his glass around in small circles. 

You stared at him, unflinching in your assessment of his body language. He didn’t look as miserable as you felt, and a spark of anger ignited in your belly because of it.  

“Did you ever really love me, Bil?” You barked. It was bait, and both of you knew it. You’d never questioned his love for you, and he knew you were trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help stepping up to the plate and taking the bait. 

“What kind of fucking question is that?” He watched you closely. You tried not to let your triumph show on your face. “Of course, I love you.” 

He stood from his seat and rested his hands on his hips, willing you to do the same. Meet him where he stood, he dared, show him how much you still care. You were nothing if not a daredevil. You joined him in the middle of the room, pressing your index finger into his chest. 

“Well then, what the fuck happened?”  

“You. Tell. Me.” He gritted from between clenched teeth. 

Billy wasn’t being fair to you, and he knew it. You were asking a valid question, and he was cowering behind the anger and frustration in the room.  

“I can’t do this again, Bil.” You turned, reaching for your purse. A heavy tug on your elbow had you crashing into Billy’s chest, where he enveloped his arms around you and pulled you into a crushing hold.  

“You’re not leaving, are you?”  

There was a softness in his voice that tugged at your heartstrings. For a moment, you forgot you were speaking to a grown man and not an orphaned little boy. You blew a long breath out before shaking your head. He rested his forehead against your shoulder. 

“No, Bil. I’m not leaving.” 

“I always knew I’d end up breaking your pretty heart.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you didn’t miss the slight crack in his words. “I knew I’d fuck it up eventually.” 

“I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” You blinked away the tears that had built up on your waterline.  

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

You cupped his face as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, pleaded with you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lowering your body next to his. 

“What’s going on?” You asked him, eyes flickering between his fast-blinking eyelids and rapidly shaking hands.  

“I was afraid.” He cleared his throat. “Am. I am afraid.” 

“Of what? Where is this coming from?” You gaped. You knew Billy struggled with commitment more than most – it had taken him almost a year of serious dating before he could tell you he loved you – but you thought he had moved past that. 

“Tom’s getting married.” 

Your brow furrowed. “What does Tom have to do with us?” 

“Tom’s getting married, and all I can think about is how I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give that to you, and how you deserve someone who can give you everything you want and more.” 

You let his words sink into your chest, dissecting every interaction you’d had with him leading up to your breakup. It had been a slow descent, and when it finally became too much, you’d left with no clue how you ended up alone and sleeping on Karen’s couch every night. 

“Billy,” You shuttered, shaking your head as tears began to travel down your cheeks, “I never said I wanted any of that.” 

“It’s what you deserve.” 

“But it’s not what I want. Why couldn’t you see that I was happy with the way things were?” 

“I was terrified that you’d leave me. And then I became a shit boyfriend, and you really did leave me, and it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You wiped the tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “You weren’t always a shit boyfriend.” 

Billy snorted, letting a small smile cross his face as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“Can you ever forgive me, sunflower?” 

You considered his question. If you were being completely honest, you’d forgiven him as soon as you saw his pretty, brown eyes across the bar earlier, so sad and searching for you.  

“Can you promise that you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like this again, instead of shutting me out?” You cupped his cheek, eyes flicking down to his lips and then back up to his eyes.  

“I can promise that I’ll try.” He swallowed, searching your expression. “Is that enough?” 

You lurched forward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss tasted of red wine and salt, and you were suddenly grateful that you’d slumped to the floor earlier instead of waiting until now, when your knees were weak and shaking with anticipation.  

“I love you.” Billy mumbled inbetween kisses. 

“Show me.” You responded, opening yourself to him for the first time in over a month. 

He took you right there on the living room floor, a flurry of intertwined limbs, swollen lips, and skin brushing skin. His lips only left yours long enough to whisper praises against your neck before returning to yours in a bruising kiss. When you came apart underneath him, you couldn’t stop the tears from forming, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the tears away, apologies in their own right, as he continued showing you how much he loved you. 

Later on, after hours of reconciliation and apologies, you collapsed next to Billy on the couch. You’d lost your clothes a long time ago, only covered with the throw blanket you’d purchased the year before on a whim, and you watched as he sighed in quiet contemplation.  

“We should tell Karen and Frank that their plan worked.” You rested your head on his shoulder. He smiled, pulling you into his chest.  

“Let them figure it out on their own. They’ll come around at some point tomorrow when you still haven’t gone back.” 

He was right. The next morning, when Karen and Frank knocked on the door, you and Billy were still cuddled together on the couch, so worn out from the night before that you hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to move to the bedroom. You took one glance at Billy before you were on him again, uncaring that your friends were waiting. That’s fine, you thought, let them wait. Let them wait. 

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @purple-amaranthe @raajali3 @emiemiemiii @messymissy @mossexe @fictional-hooman @oeuryale @violet-19999 @quackson03 @husherstan @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sweetserendipity65 @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @anastasianeedstoread @mxxnligxt

[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

[petertingle-yipyip]

BIGGER PERSON - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: billy x castle!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: When Frank’s sister finds out that a) her brother’s alive and b) her boyfriend is supposed to kill him, the conversation quickly turns bad.

Your brother, Frank Castle.

Months had passed and his death still didn’t feel real. You had seen the headstone, found a church that was willing to give the infamous Punisher his last rites. Even though Frank didn’t really care for religion towards the end of his life, your parents would’ve wanted it done so you made sure of it. You sent them the blessed crucifix from the private ritual.

You were frozen in place as the news story played out on your TV. The job Billy was working for the senator, the one he claimed was to protect from the unknown bomber, was also intended to protect him from Frank. Frank, the alleged accomplice to the bomber, was being framed - yet again - as public enemy number one.

You paused the screen when the channel was playing video from a cop car that very clearly showed your brother’s face and pulled your phone to text Billy. But as your finger was finding the conversation, you realized he would very likely lie to you again. He lied about the job to begin with, so why would he owe you an honest answer now.

So instead, you paced your living room until he finally made it home.

When you heard the door open, your grip tightened on the remote and you felt the urge to throw it. Either at Billy or close to it, you didn’t care, but you refrained from either. He walked in and said his usual greeting, moving in to kiss your cheek but you shoved him off.

“Tell me you didn’t know.” You said tightly, hoping the anger in your stare was enough to burn him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, a slight nervous chuckle pairing with the words.

“The bombings. All of it is being blamed on Frank.” You continued.

“Frank?” His brows furrowed and you had the urge to shove him again.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“No, I- I’m not.” His hands went up in surrender. “I want to finish this discussion, really. But honestly, baby, I’m too damn tired. Can it wait till later?”

“So my brother is alive and I find out by chance from some news story and you want to talk about it later?” You said angrily, gesturing to the paused screen that still displayed the photo captured from a police car’s dash cam.

“Can we not do this, Y/N?” Billy sighed and dropped on the couch, covering his eyes.

“No, I think we should.” You snapped. “That is my brother, Billy. If there was even a rumor that he was still alive, you should’ve told me!”

“It was just a rumor.” He enunciated, still not looking at you. “I hadn’t heard from him so how was I supposed to know it was true?”

“You still should’ve told me!”

“I’m sorry!” He shouted, standing suddenly and. pausing you to take a small step back. “What am I supposed to do about it now? What- What- What do you want from me?”

“Jesus.” You sighed and put your hands up in surrender. “Nevermind. It’s just my brother, right? Who cares? Not like I had a right to know but hey.”

You stormed off to the bedroom and ignored Billy’s muttering as you left. You didn’t even need Billy to confess that he knew or that he was helping Frank hide. All you wanted was an honest apology, but he couldn’t even do that.

The days went on and you still said very little to Billy. You still did your usual routine, breakfast and coffee ready before he went to work. Dinner either on the way or finishing on the stove when he got home. But outside of that, or answering a direct question he asked, you were busy with a book or a new TV show. Anything really that meant you didn’t have to say anything to him.

It was right before his TV interview about the attack on Senator Ori at the hotel, which they were attributing to Frank. He had came out and asked if his tie looked okay and you said “Sure, it’s fine” without facing him.

“Jesus, Y/N/N. How long you gonna act like this?” He complained.

“I shouldn’t have to be the bigger person.” You spat back, still keeping your back to him. “I shouldn’t have to bend to keep us on track. Let me ask you this, Bill. That guy with the- the eye thing. He having you go after Frankie?”

“Y/N…”

“I swear to God I will walk out that door.” You threatened and turned to face him. You watched his eyes dart between yours as he took in your expression. “Everything you’ve been doing lately, was it all about Frank?”

“Yeah...”

“Catching him?”

“Yeah…”

“Killing him?”

You didn’t even know how you managed to get that question out but you did. It felt as if your throat had tightened and the three short syllables were rung out of your voice box like water out of a towel.

“Yeah…” He answered, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart grew heavy in your chest and it nearly felt

like it had stopped beating.

“And you wonder why I’m pissed off.” You said flatly, pushing past  and leaving him behind you.

“Baby, it's just business, alright? Nothing personal.”

“It should be personal!” You turned and shouted. “That’s my goddamn brother!”

“You want me to apologize for doing my job?” He asked sharply.

“Yes!” You threw your arms forward. “Apologize for trying to kill my brother!”

“It’s my job!”

“Well excuse me for thinking you cared about me more than a fucking paycheck.” You put hands up in surrender and turned away, back into the kitchen.

“C’mon, babe.” He sighed, hurrying after you. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s always up to me, even when it shouldn’t be.” You complained. “You want me to take the blame for a fight and I do. I do because I love you and I always think it’ll be the last time.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, confused even. As if he had barely realized what the routine with you had become.

Argue about something, sometimes petty and sometimes not. Then you’ll make up when you apologize, but nothing changes. It was a vicious cycle that Billy was completely oblivious to, until now.

“I think that maybe next time you’ll be the bigger person cause I’m sick and tired of carrying the burden of every argument.” You shrugged, tears forming in your eyes that you ignored. “Keep moving my boundaries so you don’t cross lines, keep quiet when you yell. All cause I thought I had to to make it last between us.”

“I… I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He took a moment to think over his next words. It felt like a very defining moment for your relationship. He never meant to make you feel that way, and knowing he had was arguably the worst pain he’d ever felt. How did he not notice? How could he do that to you?

“Tell me how to make this right.” He said softly, gently reaching to take your hand. You looked up at him while you let your hand sit in his. He looked at you with wide, soft eyes that were begging for forgiveness. “I’ll do anything.”

“You think it’s that easy?” You countered with a small challenge. “Billy, you’ve been hunting down my brother for a man who doesn’t care about you. That guy will throw you under the bus as soon as he needs to, just like everyone else. But my brother? You know damn well Frank would’ve done anything to protect you. He never would’ve don’t this to you.”

“No… He would’ve.”

“Why?” 

He looked towards the ceiling and sighed heavily. Your stomach felt tight and your blood ran warm with anticipation while you took a step back, taking your hand away from his.

“What did you do?” You urged.

“The carousel.” He began and that knot in your stomach grew tighter.

“You were there?”

“No.” He looked back to you, a silent plea in his expression. To hear him out, to believe him, to forgive him. “No, I wasn’t, I swear.”

“You didn’t shoot him? Or Maria? Or the kids?”

“No, I wouldn’t do it.” He shook his head and you could’ve sworn you saw tears in his eyes. “I said no.”

You were quiet as things began to click and you knew it reflected in your eyes as Billy’s expression changed.

“But you knew… You knew they were coming after my brother and that’s why we went out instead of me going with them.” You realized and the thick weight of betrayal slammed into your chest so hard you thought the bones would break. “How fucking dare you stand in front of me.”

“No, Y/N, please. Let me-“

“Let you what?” You cut in sharply and your hands tightened into fists at your side. “Let you explain? What is there to explain when you just admitted to knowing that your worthless fucking friends were gonna kill my family and you did nothing?” Your voice grew to a scream as you rambled.

His eyes shot to your hands and he took a step back from you.

“My niece and nephew, Billy!” You shouted. “They were kids! And Maria, she loved you. And you just let it happen.”

“I couldn’t do anything.” He spoke quietly.

“You’re kidding, right?” You laughed in disbelief. “You could’ve warned him!”

“He wouldn’t have believed me!” He reasoned.

“Y’know what.” You took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

“Y/N..”

“Aren’t you late for your interview?”

He opened his mouth to speak but the glare you gave him kept him quiet. Instead, he collected his things and went to leave.

“I didn’t want all this.” He called from the door. “It wasn’t supposed to end up this way.”

“Yeah, you worked so hard to keep it from me.” You countered. “Good luck when Frank finds out.”

The door closed soon after and you found your phone. You scrolled your contacts until Karen’s name popped up. You had met the woman when her friends were defending Frank in court and you two had stayed decent friends. You texted and said you had seen the news about Frank and asked if she could help you get in touch with him.

karen (lawyer): just put flowers in the window

[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

Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction​ for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!